She awoke to feel the radiant influence of the afternoon sun through the green blinds.  Impregnated with a delicious languor, she slowly stretched out her arms, and, lifting her head, gazed first at the intricate tracery of the lace on her silk nightgown, and then into the silent dreamy spaces of the room.  Everything was in perfect order; she guessed that Ethel must have trod softly to make it tidy before leaving her, hours ago.  John’s bed was turned down, and his pyjamas laid out, with all Bessie’s accustomed precision.  Presently she noticed on her night-table a sheet of note-paper, on which had been written in pencil, in large letters:  ‘Ring the bell before getting up.’  She could not be sure whether the hand was Ethel’s or Rose’s.  ‘Oh!’ she thought, ’how good my girls are!’ She was quite well, quite restored, and slightly hungry.  And she was also calm, content, ready to commence existence anew.

‘I suppose I had better humour them,’ she murmured, and she rang the bell.

Bessie entered.  The treasure was irreproachably neat and prim in her black and white.

‘What time is it, Bessie?’ Leonora inquired.

‘It’s a straight-up three, ma’am.’

‘Then I must have slept for eleven hours!  How is Mr. Myatt going on?’

Bessie dropped her hands, and smiled benevolently:  ’Oh!  He’s much better, ma’am.  And when the doctor told him about poor Miss Myatt, ma’am, he just said the funeral must be on Saturday because he didn’t like Sunday funerals, and it wouldn’t do to wait till Monday.  He didn’t say nothing else.  And he keeps on telling us he shall be well enough to go to the funeral, and he’s sent master down to Guest’s in St. Luke’s Square to order it, and the hearse is to have two horses, but not the coaches, ma’am.  He’s asleep just now, ma’am, and I’m watching him, but Miss Rose is resting on Miss Milly’s bed in case, so I can come in here for a minute or two.  He told the doctor and master that Miss Myatt was took with one of them attacks at half-past eleven o’clock, and he went for Dr. Adams as lives at the top of Oldcastle Street.  Dr. Adams wasn’t in, and then he saw a cab—­it must have been coming from the ball, ma’am, but Mr. Myatt didn’t know as there was any ball—­and he drove up to Hillport for Dr. Hawley, him being the family doctor.  And then he said he felt bad-like, and he thought he’d come here and send master across the way for Dr. Hawley.  And he got out of the cab and paid the cabman, and then he doesn’t remember no more.  Wasn’t it dreadful, ma’am?  I don’t believe he rightly knew what he was doing, the poor old gentleman!’

Leonora listened.  ‘Where are Miss Ethel and Miss Milly?’ she asked.

’Master said they was to go to Oldcastle to order mourning, ma’am.  They’ve but just gone.  And master said he should be back himself about six.  He never slept a wink, ma’am; nor even sat down.  He just had his bath, and Miss Ethel crept in here for his clothes.’