But when breakfast time came round again Lola reported a blank night as
far as visions were concerned.

"I don't suppose I had as much as ten minutes' sleep, and, certainly, no
dreams."

"I'm so sorry, for your sake in the first place, and ours as well," said
her hostess; "do you think you could induce a short nap after breakfast?
It would be so good for you--and you _might_ dream something. There
would still be time for us to get our bets on."

"I'll try if you like," said Lola; "it sounds rather like a small child
being sent to bed in disgrace."

"I'll come and read the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_ to you if you think it
will make you sleep any sooner," said Bertie obligingly.

Rain was falling too steadily to permit of outdoor amusement, and the
party suffered considerably during the next two hours from the absolute
quiet that was enforced all over the house in order to give Lola every
chance of achieving slumber. Even the click of billiard balls was
considered a possible factor of disturbance, and the canaries were
carried down to the gardener's lodge, while the cuckoo clock in the hall
was muffled under several layers of rugs. A notice, "Please do not Knock
or Ring," was posted on the front door at Bertie's suggestion, and guests
and servants spoke in tragic whispers as though the dread presence of
death or sickness had invaded the house. The precautions proved of no
avail: Lola added a sleepless morning to a wakeful night, and the bets of
the party had to be impartially divided between Nursery Tea and the