er Celestine's idea of taking her up and carrying her, she was glad to
be carried.

But having shed her tears, Celestine was now the nurse again. "Don't
speak another word!" she said, peremptorily. And then, with careful
hands, she undressed Margaret and put her to bed.

At the end of the third day Margaret was able to present herself again
in Aunt Katrina's sitting-room.

"I suppose you've got to get it over _some_ time," was Celestine's
reluctant assent.

"But how in the world, Margaret, did you ever come to go back to that
house all alone, _late_ at night, and without letting a soul know?"
demanded Aunt Katrina, in the course of her cross-examination. "I've
_tried_ to conceal what I thought of such a freak!"

"It was not late," Margaret answered, "it was early. I changed my mind
about sleeping at the hotel, I thought I should rather sleep in my own
house, after all; so I went back. Then when I found that Mr. Moore had
already gone to bed, early though it was, I decided not to disturb him."

"What a piece of craziness!--and to think, too, that at your age you
should have gone wandering about with matches! Well, I am glad that _I_
at least have no such tastes; when I say I am going to sleep in a place,
I sleep there, and you have no idea what sacrifices I have made
sometimes, when travelling, to keep my word--keep it merely to myself;
it _is_ so much better to do what you say you're going to, and not keep
changing your mind. I can never be thankful enough that Lanse was not
there; _he_ could never have escaped so easily as you did, poor fellow;
it really seems almost providential--his having gone off on that journey
just at that time. And as to the wandering about with matches, Margaret
(for it all comes back to that), it's an excellent rule for people who
have those manias never to allow themselves to get out of bed (until the
next morning, of course) after once they're in; now do promise me that
you will make it yours, at least as long as you are staying here;
otherwise I shall be so nervous."

"I wasn't in bed at all," said Margaret.

"A lounge is the same thing; don't quibble," said Aunt Katrina,
severely.

Here Betty, hurrying in, fell on Margaret's neck and kissed her, holding
her closely in her affectionate arms. "Oh, my dearest child! restored to
us from that _dreadful_ danger, thank God! To think how near you
came--Oh, my dear, dear girl!" She kissed her again, and got out her
handkerchief to dry he