Hannah murmured something unintelligible.

Miss Farrel went on, sweetly: "So you thought you would try on my
lace gown, Hannah?" she said. "It fits you very well. I see your
hands are clean. I am glad of that. Now please take it off and put on
your own dress."

Hannah stood up. She was abject.

"There is nothing for you to be afraid of," said Miss Farrel. "Only
take off the gown and put on your own, or I am afraid Miss Hart--"

Miss Hart's name acted like a terrible stimulus. Hannah unfastened
the lace gown with fingers trembling with haste. She stepped out of
the shimmering circle which it made; she was in her own costume in an
incredibly short space of time, and the lace gown was in its
accustomed place in the closet. Then suddenly Miss Hart opened the
door.

"I thought I saw a light," said she. She looked from one to the
other. "It is after eleven o'clock," she said, further.

"Yes," said Miss Farrel, sweetly. "I have been working. I had to look
over some exercises. I think I am not quite well. Have you any
digitalis in the house, Miss Hart? Hannah here does not know. I was
sorry to disturb her, and she does not know. I have an irritable
heart, and digitalis helps it."

"No, I have not got any digitalis," replied Miss Hart, shortly. She