She rose in dismay. She had slept so soundly that she had missed the ball.
She rang her bell and unlocked the door.
"What, miss, up already?" asked the maid, coming in with a tray on which were tea and bread and butter.
"Yes, Martha. Oh! what will aunt say? I have slept so long and like a log, and never went to the ball. Why did you not call me?"
"Please, miss, you have forgotten. You went to the ball last night."
"No; I did not. I overslept myself."
The maid smiled. "If I may be so bold as to say so, I think, Miss Betty, you are dreaming still."
"No; I did not go."
The maid took up the satin dress. It was crumpled, the lace was a little torn, and the train showed unmistakable signs of having been drawn over a floor.
She then held up the shoes. They had been worn, and well worn, as if danced in all night.