Mrs. Force turned pale as death while she read the note. When she finished it, she stooped forward and dropped it into the red heart of the coal fire.

Then, averting her head, that no one might see the blanching of her face, she said, in a tone of enforced calmness, to the waiting servant:

“Tell the messenger that there is no answer.”

The servant bowed and withdrew.

“What is it, dear?” inquired Abel Force.

“Nothing that needs attention to-night,” she replied, with assumed indifference.

And Abel Force, thinking it to be some little domestic matter that might not be discussed before a stranger, and perfectly unsuspicious of anything secret or serious—thinking no evil—dropped the subject then and there, and forgot.

“Ah-h-h! Yaw-w-w! I never was so tired and sleepy in all my life before!” cried Mrs. Anglesea, throwing herself back in her chair, and stretching her mouth and limbs with a tremendous yawn.

“No doubt you are, madam. You have had a most fatiguing day. Permit me!” said Mr. Force, and he lighted a wax taper and put it in her hand.

“And what on earth am I to do with this, old man?” she demanded, between two gapes.

“It is to light you to your room,” said Mrs. Force, answering for her dismayed husband. “Can you find your way, or shall I see you to the door?”

“Is it that fine room fixed up with maple wood and blue calico, where the gals took me to take off my bonnet and wash my face and hands?”

“Yes, it is the same. Shall I show you the way?”

“Lord, no, ’oman! I ain’t a baby! But I reckon you may toss me in a nightgown and nightcap before you go to bed yourself, for, you know, I come here right from the church, and, of course, didn’t fetch any ’long o’ me.”

“I think you will find all those conveniences laid out on your bed,” said Mrs. Force.

“All right! Good-night, ole ’oman!” And she kissed Mrs. Force, to that lady’s dismay. “I’m sorry I had to make such a fuss in the church to-day, but I couldn’t help it, and it is all for the best. Good-night, ole man! Lord, why, I feel just as if I had knowed you all the days of my life, and you was my own kinfolks! So here goes!” And she stood on tiptoes and pulled down Mr. Force’s black-whiskered face and kissed him.

And he bore the punishment with much more fortitude than his wife had done.

Then the frank, rude, handsome creature, in whom there was no wickedness at all, took up her wax taper again, laughed, nodded and went out.

“Well, for a woman who has been robbed of her fortune and forsaken by her husband, she takes life quite cheerfully,” said Elfrida Force, with a touch of sarcasm in her manner.

“It is her healthy constitution and happy, animal spirits that enables her to do so,” said Abel Force, apologetically.

“She is very ill bred!” said Elfrida.

“That is her misfortune, not her fault, poor thing! But enough of her. How is our darling this evening?”

“Fast asleep, with a regular, normal pulse and respiration. To-morrow she will be quite restored, I think.”

“Heaven grant it!” fervently exclaimed Abel Force.

Then he touched the timbre that was to summon Jake, to close up fenders and put out lights.

And then the husband and wife went upstairs together.

When they reached the landing, they were startled by a loud rapping on the inside of Mrs. Anglesea’s door.

“She wants something that has been forgotten, I suppose. Go on, Abel, and I will stop and see what she requires,” said Elfrida Force.

And the gentleman passed on to his apartments, while the lady paused at their visitor’s door.

“Say! Hi! Ole ’oman! You! I want you!” cried the guest, from within, as the lady approached.

“Well, what is it?” inquired Elfrida Force.

“Is your ole man outside?”

“No; he has gone to his room.”

“Then it’s all right, and I can come out,” replied the woman, opening the door and standing there in her ascension robes, while she held up, at arm’s length, one of Elfrida’s own fine cambric nightdresses, and exclaimed:

“Look here, I say! I can’t get into this thing! Why, look at me and look at it! You might’s well try to squeeze a pumpkin into a pint pot, as me in it!”

Mrs. Force saw, and recognized the dilemma. The stout woman could not wear one of her night robes; and, if not one of hers, certainly not one of Miss Meeke’s, or of either the young girls’—all of which were smaller than her own. What was to be done now?

The lady stood confounded for a moment, and then a bright thought struck her.

“I will find one to fit you, and bring it,” she said.

“That’s you!” exclaimed the woman.

Elfrida Force turned away and went into her own room to get the wax taper which her husband had carried there, and then she went up into the garret and waked up old Aunt Lucy, who was even stouter than Mrs. Anglesea, and who had a treasure that was the pride of her heart—a small chest, full of fine, snow-white underclothing, that was laid up in lavender, and only taken out to be shown to acquaintances, but never worn.

When Luce was roused out of her sleep, to see her mistress standing over her, with a taper in her hand, she was frightened half out of her wits at—she knew not what, but she instinctively gasped out:

“It’s a habit dey gibs deirselves—nuffin’ ’tall but a habit dey gibs deirselves!”

“Luce, wake up! I want you to do me a favor.”

“Yes, mist’ess! It’s a hab——” But a wide gape cut off her proverb.

“Luce! I want you to be so kind as to lend Mrs. Anglesea one of your best, new nightdresses,” said the lady.

“Yes, mist’ess, nightgowns. It a hab——You!” with another yawn.

It was full ten minutes before the lady could bring the half-sleeping woman to a consciousness of what was wanted.

Then, indeed, Luce was all attention and alertness, proud to accommodate the visitor. She went to her chest and opened it, filling the room with the fragrance of sweet herbs, and she selected her finest gown, “the one trimmed with torture lace,” as she called it, meaning torchon, and she offered to take it herself down to the stranger. But Mrs. Force would not permit her to do that, and, with the gown over her arm, she went downstairs and into the room of her guest.

“Now, then, this here is something like a gownd,” said Mrs. Anglesea, admiringly. “And, oh, sakes! don’t it smell sweet! Hoome! Ah-h-h!” she exclaimed, pressing the garment up to her face and strongly inhaling its fragrance.

“Good-night,” said the hostess, turning away.

“Good-night! Hoome—ah-h-h! how sweet it is!”

“And what a thorough animal you are!” thought the lady, as she left the happy creature delighting herself in the fragrance of lavender and amber.

One more visit Mrs. Force made before she sought her own pillow. She went into Odalite’s room, and found her sleeping quietly, with little Elva, in a warm wrapper, lying in an easy chair by her side.

“Why, my little darling, why are you not in bed?” inquired the lady.

“Oh, mamma, because I thought I would sit here with Odalite until you should come, to see if she should want anything.”

“It was a kind thought, my tender, little love; but now you may go to bed. Kiss me. God bless you, little tender heart!”

And so, with love and kisses and blessings, Elfrida Force dismissed her gentlest child to rest.

Then she bent over Odalite, and saw that she was sleeping well and breathing easily. She took her hand, and found that her skin was cool and moist, and her pulse was regular.

She kissed the sleeper on the brow, and then knelt and prayed for pardon of that long-past folly, as she prayed daily and nightly; she prayed for protection for those she loved from the machinations of the evil and the designing, and for guidance and help in her perplexities and sorrows. When she finished, she arose and left the chamber.