Before her lay her black-and-white muslin dress on the bed; on the table were her white twelve-button gloves folded about her fan. She took them up, and below them, somewhat crumpled, lay the play-bill, scented.
"How very unaccountable this is," she said; and removing the dress, seated herself on the bed and thought.
"Why did they turn out the lights?" she asked herself, then sprang to her feet, switched off the electric current, and saw that actually the morning light was entering the room. She resumed her seat; put her hands to her brow.
"It cannot—it cannot be that this dreadful thing has happened again."
Presently she heard the servants stirring. She hastily undressed and retired between the sheets, but not to sleep. Her mind worked. She was seriously alarmed.
At the usual time Martha arrived with tea.
"Awake, Miss Betty!" she said. "I hope you had a nice evening. I dare say it was beautiful."
"But," began the girl, then checked herself, and said—
"Is my aunt getting up? Is she very tired?"
"Oh, miss, my lady is a wonderful person; she never seems to tire. She is always down at the same time."