“I know.  The horrid interloper!”

“She may be here any minute,” said Mrs. De Peyster.  “What are we going to do?”

“We must think of something quick,” spoke up Matilda nervously.  “For it’s almost time for your funeral, ma’am, and after that—­”

“I’ve been thinking all the voyage over,” broke in Olivetta.  “And I could think of only one plan.”

“And that?” Mrs. De Peyster eagerly inquired.

There was an excited, desperate light in Olivetta’s flooding eyes.

“Couldn’t you manage, in some way, while nobody is looking, to slip into that Frenchwoman’s place; and then, before the ceremony was over, you could sit up and say you’d been in a cataleptic fit.  Such things have happened.  I’ve read about them.”

“Absurd, Olivetta!  Quite absurd!” quavered Mrs. De Peyster.

“I dare say it is,” agreed Olivetta, subsiding again into her limp misery.  “Oh, why did I ever go to Paris!  I hate the place!”

“Don’t give way; think!” commanded Mrs. De Peyster, who was in a condition not far removed from Olivetta’s.  “Think, Matilda!”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Matilda obediently.

“You think, Caroline,” whimpered Olivetta.  “You always had such a superior intellect, and were always so equal to every emergency.”

Mrs. De Peyster thus reminded of what was expected of her life-long leadership, tried to collect her scattered forces, and sat with pale, drawn, twitching face, staring at her predicament—­and her two faithful subjects sat staring at her, waiting the inspired idea for escape that would fall from her never-failing lips.  Moment after moment of deepest silence followed.

At length Mrs. De Peyster spoke.

“There are only two ways.  First, for me to go down and disclose myself—­”

“But the scandal!  The humiliation!” cried Olivetta.

“Yes, that first way will never do,” said Mrs. De Peyster.  “The second way is not a solution; it is only a means to a possible solution.  But before I state the way, I must ask you, Olivetta, if any one saw you come in?”

“There were a number of people coming and going, people preparing for the funeral—­but I watched my chance, and used my latch-key, and I’m sure no one connected with the house saw me.”

“That is good.  If any outsiders saw you, they will merely believe that you also were some person concerned in the funeral.  As for my plan, it is simple.  You must both slip out of here unseen; you, Olivetta, will, of course, say that you have returned to the city to attend my funeral.  From the outside you both must help me.”

“Yes.  But you, Caroline?” said Olivetta.

“As for me, I must stay here, quietly, just as I have done for the last three weeks.  I still have some supplies left.  After everything has quieted down, I shall watch my chance, and steal out of the house late some night.  That’s as far as I have planned, but once away I can work out some explanation for the terrible mistake and then come home.  That seems the only way; that seems the only chance.”