sly till three o'clock, and then fell into a
heavy sleep.

The sun was shining into the room, and I heard the voices of people on
the lawn when I awoke. When I went down, after a hurried and nervous
half-hour of dressing, I found the morning, apparently, half gone, and
the breakfast-table cleared.

Mary Leighton, with a croquet mallet in her hand, was following Kilian
through the hall to get a drink of water. She made a great outcry at me
and my appearance.

"What a headache you must have," she cried. "But ah! think what you've
missed, dear! The tutor has been down at breakfast, or rather at the
breakfast-table, for he didn't eat a thing. He is a, little paler than
he was at dinner day before yesterday--and he's gone up-stairs; and
we've voted that we hope he'll stay there, for he depresses us just to
look at him."

And then, with an unmeaning laugh, she tripped on after Kilian to get
that drink of water, which was nothing but a ticket for a moment's
_tete-a-tete_ away from the croquet party. Richard had seen me by this
time, and came in and asked how I felt, and rang the bell in the
dining-room, and ordered my breakfast brought. He did not exactly stay
and watch it, but he came in and out of the dining-room enough times to
see that I had everything that was dainty and nice (and to see, alas!
that I could not eat it); for that piece of news from Mary Leighton had
levelled me with the ground again.

That I had missed seeing him was too cruel, and that he looked so ill;
how could I bear it?

After my breakfast was taken away, I went into the hall, and sat down on
the sofa between the parlor doors. Pretty soon the people came in from
the croquet ground, talking fiercely about a game in which Kilian and
Mary had been cheating. Charlotte Benson was quite angry, and Charley,
who had played with her, was enraged. I thought they were such, fools
to care, and Richard looked as if he thought they were all silly
children. The day was warm and close, such a contrast to the day before.
The sudden cold had broken down into a sultry August atmosphere. The
sun, which had been bright an hour ago, was becoming obscured, and the
sky was grayish. Every one felt languid. We were all sitting about the
hall, idly, when a servant brought a note. It was an invitation; that
roused them all--and for to-day. There was no time to lose.

The Lowders had sent to ask us all to a croquet party there at four
o'clock.

"What an hour!" cried So