She looked around, but could discover nothing to help her. The two girls were sleeping soundly, and upon the face of Rosebud there was a smile. She was dreaming of the ball—again surrounded by a crowd of admirers.
Snowdrop dreamed of the dear papa; he was angry with them for their disobedience, and her long eyelashes were wet with tears.
“How different they are in their ways, even in sleep!” said the duenna.
She turned away, and as her eye fell upon the forgotten slippers, her searching glance detected that they had been worn.
“What does this mean? So much worn, and bought yesterday! ’Tis very strange!” mused she, and put them in her pocket.
She woke the young girls, but they fell asleep again. They were so unused to dancing late at night, that they were very tired; and when the bell rang for breakfast, they did not appear.
“Where are my dear daughters?” said the father, with a clouded face.
She could only tell him that they were still asleep, and seemed very tired.
“So are my horses,” replied he, angrily; “but I will see about this.”
The duenna was afraid to show him the shoes, lest he should blame her; but in her confusion, as she drew her handkerchief from her pocket, one of them dropped out upon the floor.