But not having asked which was Mr. Patten’s room, I was at a loss and almost discovered by a maid who was turning down the beds—much to early, also, and not allowed in the best houses until nine-thirty, since otherwise the rooms look undressed and informle.
I had but Time to duck into another chamber, and from there to a closet.
I remained in that closet all night.
I will explain. No sooner had the maid gone than a Woman came into the room and closed the door. I heard her moving around and I suddenly felt that she was going to bed, and might get her robe de nuit out of the closet. I was petrafied. But it seems, while she really was undressing at that early hour, the maid had laid her night clothes out, and I was saved.
Very soon a knock came to the door, and sombody came in, like Mrs. Patten’s voice and said: “You’re not going to bed, surely!”
“I’m going to pretend to have a sick headache,” said the other Person, and I knew it was the One-peace Lady. “He’s going to come back in a frenzey, and he’ll take it out on me, unless I’m prepared.”
“Poor Reggie!” said Mrs. Patten. “To think of him locked in there alone, and no Clothes or anything. It’s too funny for words.”
“You’re not married to him.”
My heart stopped beating. Was she married to him? She was indeed. My dream was over. And the worst part of it was that for a married man I had done without Food or Exercise and now stood in a hot closet in danger of a terrable fuss.
“No, thank Heaven!” said Mrs. Patten. “But it was the only way to make him work. He is a lazy dog. But don’t worry. We’ll feed him before he sees you. He’s always rather tractible after he’s fed.”