Madame came in, pulled up the shades and flooded the room with sunshine. "I'm sorry if I've disturbed you, dear, but I was afraid you were ill. I've been here twice before."
Aroused from Sleep
Edith sat up and rubbed her eyes. "What time is it?"
"Half-past nine."
"Oh, I'm so sorry! You mustn't spoil me this way, for I do want to get up to breakfast. Why didn't you call me?"
Madame sat down on the side of the bed and patted Edith's outstretched hand with affectionate reassurance. "You're to do just as you please," she said, "but I was beginning to worry a bit, for you've been the soul of punctuality."
"Did—" Edith closed her lips firmly upon the instinctive question, "Did he miss me?" She dismissed it as the mere vapouring of a vacant brain.
"Did what?" asked Madame, helpfully.
"Did you miss me?"
"Of course. Alden did too. The last thing he said before he went to school was that he hoped you were not ill."