ink. She could only sit there in a
sort of dumb horror. Presently she raised her head, opened her eyes,
and deliberately surveyed the room.

Like the others she had seen, it was large and handsomely furnished.
There was a great brass bed and heavy mahogany furniture. The walls
were hung with blue, the large rug was blue-and-gold, and the chintz
hangings and covers blue-and-white. There was a great pier-glass, a
writing-desk, and a bookcase. In spite of the fact that everything
bore the appearance of having been hastily dusted, it was fairly neat
and very attractive.

Still confused, with a stunned sensation that precluded decisive
action, Elsie decided that she might as well remove the dust of travel,
and rising, slipped off her blouse.

As she turned on both faucets in the bowl in the small dressing-room
adjoining, a thick scum rose to the surface of the water, and she
realized the bowl had not been washed for some time. At first she
gazed at the dust helplessly. Utterly unused to doing anything for
herself, she looked about anxiously. Two towels, clean but not ironed,
lay on the rack. She hesitated, then grasping one of them as if it
were the proverbial nettle, she attacked the bowl, gingerly at first,
then with some vigor; and presently, with the aid of some dirty
fragments of soap she found in the receptacle, using the second towel
to dry it, she had the enamelled surface clean and shining. With an
odd sense of satisfaction, she threw the towels to the floor, opened
her portmanteau, took out her own toilet-case, and proceeded to wash.

Refreshed physically and even a trifle in spirit, she slipped on her
dressing-gown and sat down by the window to consider. She knew now
that she should have spoken immediately upon seeing Mrs. Middleton,
thus avoiding more unpleasantness than the caresses. Having delayed
her explanation of the masquerade, she had made it the more difficult.
Even now she dreaded shocking or even hurting Mr. Middleton.

She rose and moved about irresolutely. The dress she had taken off lay
on the couch against the foot of the bed, and though she had never been
accustomed to caring for her clothes, she started instinctively to hang
it away. Opening the door into the clothes-press, she shrank back.

A commodious closet with shelves and drawers, it was as much worse in
its confusion and disorder than the cupboard down-stairs as it was
larger. Each hook bulged and overflowed with clothi