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warned Ann not to be surprised if she entered her room unexpectedly in the dark.

“Just lead me back to bed if I’m still asleep. I may wake up quite naturally; but don’t be frightened and scream at me.”

Searching now with a lighted candle on the dressing-table for the aspirin, Ann noticed that the french windows leading to the eastern veranda were open.

“I wonder if she leaves them open all night,” she thought. “Not very safe if she’s inclined to wander.” But the wire screens were closed. “Perhaps she has some way of fastening those.”

It was some time before Ann found the aspirin and got the water from the dining-room; and when she returned to the veranda Mrs. Holmes was there alone. She was sitting in the shadow with her hand over her eyes. For a moment Ann thought she had been crying. Then she dismissed such a foolish idea.

“How does the head feel now?” she asked.

“Perfectly rotten,” answered Vera. “Neuralgia, I think. I suppose I shan’t sleep a wink tonight.”

She took the aspirin, and swallowed it.

Ann hesitated for a moment beside her.

“Were you displeased with me for dancing, Mrs. Holmes?” she said.

“No, of course not. What makes you ask that?”

There was a queer harsh note in the elder woman’s voice.

“I don’t want to displease you,” went on Ann. “I’m happy here, and I want to stay.”

“Why?”

“Because I love this kind of life. It fascinates me—and I’m fond of the children and… and of you.”