"Who locked her in?"
"I don't know--unless it was Madame Guise. Papa and mamma and I were at dinner at Stilborough--at the Barclays', Mary. Harry would not go. It was a nice party. We had singing in the evening."
"But about the door?"
"Well, Madame Guise thought she might have unintentionally done it. She said she went in last night to look at Flora. I can scarcely think she did it, for she had gone in many a time and never turned the key before. Or the keys of other doors, either."
"At least, it does not seem to have been of any consequence.
"No; only mamma made it so. I tell you every little trifle that I can, Mary," she added, laughing quietly. "Shut up here, it seems to me that you must like to hear news from the outer world."
"And so I do," was the answer. "I have not lost all interest in my fellow pilgrims, I assure you, Ethel."
"I wore my black net trimmed with white satin ribbons: you can't think how nice it looked, Mary," said Miss Ethel, some of her vanity creeping to the fore. "And a silver flower in my hair."
"I have no doubt the dress and the flower did look well, considering what a pretty girl it was adorning," was Mary's reply. And Ethel blushed slightly. She knew how nice-looking she was.
"Does Madame Guise continue to suit?"