“Drink this,” she handed a glass to Martha as she spoke. “It is a harmless sedative; don’t be alarmed,” observing the woman’s expression. “You will feel better in the morning.”
“Will it make me sleep?” asked Martha, huddling down under the blankets.
“Yes.” Miriam halted by the door. “Is there anything more I can do for you?”
“No.” Martha remembered her manners and her face emerged from under the blankets. “Thank you, Ma’am—Miss. Jest blow out the lamp as you go along.”
Miriam hesitated. “You are not afraid to stay in the dark?”
“No, Ma’am—Miss. Good night.”
Miriam echoed the words as she carried out Martha’s wishes, then closing the door softly she went thoughtfully down the corridor. She had almost reached Mrs. Nash’s door when Trenholm called her name softly and joined her a moment later.
“Did you learn anything from the housekeeper?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Martha hardly spoke.” Miriam paused. “Her condition may be due to hysteria.”
Trenholm studied her expression. “But you don’t think so—”