"The nurse's clothes!" thought Dorothy. "If I could get into Miss Bell's things! They are here—in her suit-case. Then I might walk out! But I would faint if they spoke to me? No, I would not, I must have courage! I must be brave! In getting out I may save my dear folks more anxiety, and I can save this poor little woman!"
She looked kindly down at the sleeping nurse. The face, even in sleep, was troubled, and the young woman tossed uneasily.
Every hour the clock struck in the outside hall, but Dorothy heard it in her prison room. Her mind was first forming this plan, and then that, until she felt, if she did not get some sleep, she would never be able to carry out any plan at all. Finally, as the steps and voices in the hall grew fainter, Dorothy did fall asleep, but only to wake with a start just as the clock struck five.
A tap sounded at the door. Miss Bell was dressed and waiting. The nurses were going down to breakfast, and as she left Dorothy, with a pleasant word, the other attendant stepped in, picked up a novel, and without noticing Dorothy, any more than if she had been wooden, she sank lazily down in a chair, and started to read.
How could Dorothy get on her disguise now? She sighed heavily, and almost gave up her plan. But not quite, for in desperate straits one clings to the proverbial straw, and now Dorothy was clutching frantically at—anything—at hope.
A man poked his head in at the door.
"Hello, Tom!" said the attendant, in no polite voice, "What have you got for me?"
The man winked, and Dorothy turned away. "Can't you leave her?" he whispered.
The woman looked at Dorothy, who pretended to be almost stupid. She had hidden her face in her hands.
"I guess she'll keep," Dorothy heard her say, and with that the nurse stepped out of the door, and Dorothy heard a laugh in the hall. But she did not yet dare to move. In another moment the woman returned. "I have got to go out for a minute," she said; "just take this pill and sleep. You look tired."