During the confusion and bewilderment of the second day Mary hid herself
in the nursery and was forgotten by every one. Nobody thought of her,
nobody wanted her, and strange things happened of which she knew
nothing. Mary alternately cried and slept through the hours. She only
knew that people were ill and that she heard mysterious and frightening
sounds. Once she crept into the dining-room and found it empty, though a
partly finished meal was on the table and chairs and plates looked as
if they had been hastily pushed back when the diners rose suddenly for
some reason. The child ate some fruit and biscuits, and being thirsty
she drank a glass of wine which stood nearly filled. It was sweet, and
she did not know how strong it was. Very soon it made her intensely
drowsy, and she went back to her nursery and shut herself in again,
frightened by cries she heard in the huts and by the hurrying sound of
feet. The wine made her so sleepy that she could scarcely keep her eyes
open and she lay down on her bed and knew nothing more for a long time.

Many things happened during the hours in which she slept so heavily, but
she was not disturbed by the wails and the sound of things being carried
in and out of the bungalow.

When she awakened she lay and stared at the wall. The house was
perfectly still. She had never known it to be so silent before. She
heard neither voices nor footsteps, and wondered if everybody had got
well of the cholera and all the trouble was over. She wondered also who
would take care of her now her Ayah was dead. There would be a new Ayah,
and perhaps she would know some new stories. Mary had been rather tired
of the old ones. She did not cry because her nurse had died. She was not
an affectionate child and had never cared much for any one. The noise
and hurrying about and wailing over the cholera had frightened her, and
she had been angry because no one seemed to remember that she was alive.