“I had to finish unpacking,” Lily said. “I suppose Mr. Ponting is just going? Do remember me to him—I didn’t say good-bye to him, you know.”
“I will—I will!” said the Countess hurriedly. “Goodnight, and sleep well.”
Something—she could not have told you what—made Lily open the door after she had heard the Countess go down the steep, narrow stairs.
And then all at once there came Aunt Cosy’s loud hearty voice: “Good-bye, Mr. Ponting, good-bye—and good luck!”
The words echoed through the quiet house. And Lily, now suddenly feeling very, very tired, after the many adventures of the day, undressed, said her prayers, and blew out the light. She was glad to feel that her first day at La Solitude was over, and that a long, quiet night lay in front of her.
CHAPTER V
It may have been an hour later when suddenly Lily Fairfield sat up in bed. In a moment she knew where she was, and yet she did not really feel awake. She told herself with a feeling of fear that she was asleep—asleep, as she had been asleep that night ten days ago, when she had started walking in her sleep, so frightening greatly Uncle Tom.
Something now seemed to be impelling her, almost ordering her, to get up and to begin walking through the silent, sleeping house. She fought against the impulse, the almost command; but it was as if a stronger will than her own was forcing her to get out of the low, old-fashioned Empire bed.
She did so, slowly, reluctantly, and then she walked automatically across to the door of the room and opened it.
Surely she was asleep? Had she been awake she would have put on a wrapper before going into the passage. As it was, she felt impelled to open also the door opposite to that of her own room—the door which she had been told led into the room in which old Cristina, the friend-servant of the host and hostess, slept.