"It is fully fifty feet to the ground," she said, simply. Miss Garrison sighed and then smiled resignedly.
Worn out in body and mind, she sank into sleep even while the mighty, daring resolve to rush over and throw herself from the window was framing itself in her brain. The resolve was made suddenly, considered briefly and would have been acted on precipitously had not the drowsy, lazy influence of slumber bade her to wait a minute, then another minute, another and another, and then--to forget.
Sunlight streamed into the room when she opened her eyes, and for a few minutes she was in a state of uncanny perplexity. Where was she? In whose bed--then she remembered. With the swiftness of a cat she left the bed and flew to the window to look out upon--space at first, then the trees and rocks below. The ground seemed a mile below the spot on which she stood. Gasping with dread she shrank back and covered her eyes with her tense fingers.
"Are you ready for me, Miss?" asked a soft voice from somewhere, and Dorothy whirled to face the maid. Her throat choked, her eyes filled with tears of the reawakening, her heart throbbed so faintly that her hand went forth to find support. The little maid put her strong, gentle arm about the trembling girl and drew her again to the bed "They are expecting you down to breakfast, but I was instructed not to hurry you, Miss."
"To breakfast?" gasped Dorothy, staring at the girl as if her eyes would pop out. "Wha--what! The impudence!"
"With--with these despicable wretches? Never! I will starve first! Go away from me! I do not need you. I want to be alone, absolutely alone. Do you hear?" She violently shoved the girl away from her, but the friendly smile did not leave the latter's face.
"When you need me, Miss, I am in the next room," she said, calmly, and was gone. Anger, pure and simple, brought sobs from the very heart of the girl who lay face downward on the crumpled bed.
A new impulse inspired her to call sharply to the maid, and a moment later she was hastily, nervously, defiantly preparing herself to face the enemy and--breakfast. Tingling with some trepidation and some impatience, she led the maid through a strenuous half-hour. What with questions, commands, implorings, reprimands, complaints and fault findings, the poor girl had a sad time of it. When at last Miss Garrison stood ready to descend upon the foe she was the picture of defiance. With a steady stride she followed the maid to the door. Just as it was opened a strong, rollicking baritone voice came ringing through the halls attuned in song: