“I told her to eat,” and Miss Louise looked venomously at the invalid.
“I came to get my dinner and you had taken all the breast of the chicken. I wasn’t going to eat your leavings,” declared Miss Ella, color coming back into her wan cheeks and the fire of battle to her faded eyes. Helen laughed happily. The sisters were quarreling again and everything was assuming a more normal aspect.
“Now both of you ladies must get to bed,” insisted the doctor, after Miss Louise had been persuaded to eat some of Helen’s good toast.
“I think you have had ball enough for tonight.” He looked at his watch. “I will take you back to Weston,” he whispered to Helen.
Helen would not go until both of her old friends were tucked peacefully in their great bed and then, kissing them good-night, she stole quietly from the room. She was greatly relieved that things had turned out so well and delighted that she was to be taken back to the ball.
“It’s pretty nice to do your duty and still have a good time,” she said to herself.
Dr. Wright was waiting in the hall for her. He silently bundled her up in her cape and hood and together they stepped on the gallery.
The lazy moon was up now and outshining the faithful stars. The great box bushes and thick hedge cast deep shadows across the lawn. The two stood for a moment in silence, drinking in the beauty of the scene.
“We can’t lock the front door,” said Dr. Wright finally. “I see it has an old-fashioned great brass key and the only way to lock it is to fasten the old ladies in the house.”
“Why, nothing will ever hurt those dear old folks,” laughed Helen. “There are as safe as can be. They tell me they often go to bed without locking doors. They usually have a quarrel about whether the front door has been locked or not, and get so excited they both forget to do it.”