frightened cry--to find herself lying on her own bed in utter darkness.

A moment later her bedroom door opened without a sound and the light
from the hall streamed over Kathleen's bare shoulders and braided hair.

"Geraldine?"

The girl scarcely recognised Kathleen's altered voice. She lay
listening, silent, motionless, staring at the white figure.

"Dearest, I thought you called me. May I come in?"

"I am not well."

But Kathleen entered and stood beside the bed, looking down at her in
the dim light.

"Dearest," she began tremulously, "Duane told me you had a headache and
had gone to your room to lie down, so I didn't disturb you----"

"Duane," faltered the girl, "is he here? What did he say?"

"He was in the library before dinner when I came in, and he warned me
not to waken you. Do you know what time it is?"

"No."

"It is after midnight.... If you feel ill enough to lie here, you ought
to be undressed. May I help you?"