r. Trohm I
thought.

Whether the almost deathly quiet into which the house had now fallen, or
the comforting nature of my meditations held inexorably to the topic I
had chosen, acted as a soporific upon me I cannot tell, but greatly as I
dislike to admit it, feeling sure that you will expect to hear I kept
myself awake all that night, I insensibly sank from great alertness to
an easy indifference to my surroundings, and from that to vague dreams
in which beds of lilies and trellises covered with roses mingled
strangely with narrow, winding staircases whose tops ended in the
swaying branches of great trees; and so, into quiet and a nothingness
that were only broken into by a rap at my door and a cheerful:

"Eight o'clock, ma'am. The young ladies are waiting."

I bounded, literally bounded from my chair. Such a summons, after such a
night! What did it mean? I was sitting half dressed in my chair before
my door in a straightened and uncomfortable attitude, and therefore had
not dreamed that I had been upon the watch all night, yet the sunshine
in the room, the cheery tones such as I had not heard even from this
woman before, seemed to argue that my imagination had played me false
and that no horrors had come to disturb my rest or render my waking
distressing.

Stretching out my hand toward the door, I was about to open it, when I
bethought me.

"Turn the key in the lock," said I. "Somebody was careful enough of my
safety to fasten me in last night."

An exclamation of astonishment came from outside the door.

"There is no key here, ma'am. The door is not locked. Shall I open it
and come in?"

I was about to say yes in my anxiety to talk to the woman, but
remembering that nothing was to be gained by letting it be seen to what
an extent I had carried my suspicions, I hastily disrobed and crept into
bed. Pulling the coverings about me, I assumed a comfortable attitude
and then cried:

"Come in."

The door immediately opened.

"There, ma'am! What did I tell you? Locked?--this door? Why, the key has
been lost for months."

"I cannot help it," I protested, but with little if any asperity, for it
did not suit me that she should see I was moved by any extraordinary
feeling. "A key was put in that lock about midnight, and I was locked
in. It was about the time some one screamed in your own part of the
house."

"Screamed?" Her brows took a fine pucker of perplexity. "Oh, that must
have been Miss Lucetta."

"Luce