When I dressed Mrs. Brympton for dinner she remarked on my pale
looks and asked what ailed me. I told her I had a headache, and she
said she would not require me again that evening, and advised me to
go to bed.
It was a fact that I could scarcely keep on my feet; yet I had no
fancy to spend a solitary evening in my room. I sat downstairs in
the hall as long as I could hold my head up; but by nine I crept
upstairs, too weary to care what happened if I could but get my head
on a pillow. The rest of the household went to bed soon afterward;
they kept early hours when the master was away, and before ten I
heard Mrs. Blinder's door close, and Mr. Wace's soon after.
It was a very still night, earth and air all muffled in snow. Once
in bed I felt easier, and lay quiet, listening to the strange noises
that come out in a house after dark. Once I thought I heard a door
open and close again below: it might have been the glass door that
led to the gardens. I got up and peered out of the window; but it
was in the dark of the moon, and nothing visible outside but the
streaking of snow against the panes.
I went back to bed and must have dozed, for I jumped awake to the
furious ringing of my bell. Before my head was clear I had sprung
out of bed, and was dragging on my clothes. _It is going to happen
now_, I heard myself saying; but what I meant I had no notion. My
hands seemed to be covered with glue--I thought I should never get
into my clothes. At last I opened my door and peered down the
passage.
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