Ellsworth, blissfully ignorant that the iron chain was broken, and
enjoying her power to wound. "I've been sitting up watching the clock. My
fire's nearly out, and no more coals in the scuttle, the servants all
three snoring while I am kept up. If I'm in bed with a cold to-morrow I
shall have you to thank, Miss Grayle."

"I'll get you some more coal if you want it," said Annesley. "Hadn't you
better go to bed now I am back?"

"Not till I've made you understand that this must never occur again,"
insisted the old woman. (Annesley was shocked at herself for daring to
think that the unwieldy bulk in the gray flannel dressing gown looked
like a hippopotamus.) "You don't seem to realize that you've done
anything out of the way. You're as calm as if it was eight o'clock. Not
a word of regret! Not a question as to _my_ evening, you're so taken up
with yourself and your smart clothes--clothes I gave you."

"I haven't had much chance to ask questions, have I?" Annesley ventured
to remind her mistress. "Won't you tell me about your evening when you
are in bed and I have made up your fire? You say it is bad for you to
stand."

"I say so because it is the truth, and doctor's orders," rapped out Mrs.
Ellsworth. "I thought I had been upset enough for one evening, but this
last straw had to be added to my burden."

"Why, what can have upset you?" Annesley inquired, more for the sake
of appearing interested than because she was so. But the look on her
mistress's face told her that something really had happened.