“Look on the cold, the gay, the proud,
And is there one among them free?”
“Viola is taking a protracted beauty-sleep this morning,” observed Mrs. Herman at breakfast, next day, seeing her brother glance impatiently at his daughter’s empty chair. Judge Van Lew, who was a stickler for punctuality at meals, immediately sent a servant to call Viola, and the meal proceeded in silence.
Presently the neat maid Eliza came tripping in excitedly.
“Miss Viola’s door has been locked ever since ten o’clock last night, and she is not up yet,” she said.
“Go and knock upon the door,” said Mrs. Herman.
“Oh, ma’am, I’ve knocked time and again this morning, but she does not answer me. It’s strange for Miss Viola to sleep so late, and—and—I’m almost frightened!” the girl whimpered in alarm.
“Go and knock again very loudly, and if she does not respond, I will go myself,” Judge Van Lew said, sternly.
He pushed back his plate and began to glance over the morning papers while the placid Mrs. Herman sipped her coffee.
Suddenly she heard a strange choking sound, and glanced up in alarm to see her brother lying back in his chair, his face purple, his breath coming in excited gasps.