The Story Continued by Marian Halcombe

“Count, you are keeping Miss Halcombe standing,” she said. The moment he turned round to get me a chair, I seized my opportunity⁠—thanked him⁠—made my excuses⁠—and slipped out. An hour later, when Laura’s maid happened to be in her mistress’s room, I took occasion to refer to the closeness of the night, with a view to ascertaining next how the servants had been passing their time. “Have you been suffering much from the heat downstairs?” I asked. “No, miss,” said the girl, “we have not felt it to speak of.” “You have been out in the woods then, I suppose?” “Some of us thought of going, miss. But cook said she should take her chair into the cool courtyard, outside the kitchen door, and on second thoughts, all the rest of us took our chairs out there too.” The housekeeper was now the only person who remained to be accounted for. “Is Mrs. Michelson gone to bed yet?” I inquired. “I should think not, miss,” said the girl, smiling. “ Mrs. Michelson is more likely to be getting up just now than going to bed.” “Why? What do you mean? Has Mrs. Michelson been taking to her bed in the daytime?”