she heard the servants stirring. She hastily undressed and retired between the sheets, but not to sleep. Her mind worked. She was seriously alarmed.
At the usual time Martha arrived with tea.
"Awake, Miss Betty!" she said. "I hope you had a nice evening. I dare say it was beautiful."
"But," began the girl, then checked herself, and said—
"Is my aunt getting up? Is she very tired?"
"Oh, miss, my lady is a wonderful person; she never seems to tire. She is always down at the same time."
Betty dressed, but her mind was in a turmoil. On one thing she was resolved. She must see a doctor. But she would not frighten her aunt, she would keep the matter close from her.
When she came into the breakfast-room, Lady Lacy said—
"I thought Maas's voice was superb, but I did not so much care for the Carmen. What did you think, dear?"
"Aunt," said Betty, anxious to change the topic, "would you mind my seeing a doctor? I don't think I am quite well."
"Not well! Why what is the matter with you?"
"I have such dead fits of drowsiness."
"My dearest, is that to be wondered at with this racketing about; balls and theatres—very other than the quiet life at home? But I will admit that you struck me as looking very pale last night. You shall certainly see Dr. Groves."
When the medical man arrived, Betty intimated that she wished to speak with him alone, and he was shown with her into the morning-room.
"Oh, Dr. Groves," she said nervously, "it is such a strange thing I have to say. I believe I walk in my sleep."
"You have eaten something that disagreed with you."
"But it lasted so long."
"How do you mean? Have you long been subject to it?"
"Dear, no. I never had any signs of it before I came to London this season."
"And how were you roused? How did you become aware of it?"
"I was not roused at all; the fact is I went asleep to Lady Belgrove's ball, and danced there and came back, and woke up in the morning without knowing I had been."
"What!"
"And then, last night, I went in my sleep to Her Majesty's and heard Carmen; but I woke up in the conservatory here at early dawn, and I remember nothing about it."
"This is a very extraordinary story. Are you sure you went to the ball and to the opera?"
"Quite sure. My dress had been used on both occasions, and my shoes and fan and gloves as well."
"Did you go with Lady Lacy?"
"Oh, yes. I was with her all the time. But I remember nothing about it."
"I must speak to her ladyship."
"Please, please do not. It would frighten her; and I do not wish her to suspect anything, except that I am a little out of sorts. She gets nervous about me."
Dr. Groves mused for some while, then he said: "I cannot see that this is at all a case of somnambulism."
"What is it, then?"
"Lapse of memory. Have you ever suffered from that previously?"
"Nothing to speak of. Of course I do not always remember everything. I do not always recollect commissions given to me, unless I write them down. And I cannot say that I remember all the novels I have read, or what was the menu at dinner yesterday."
"That is quite a different matter. What I refer to is spaces of blank in your memory. How often has this occurred?"
"Twice."
"And quite recently?"
"Yes, I never knew anything of the kind before."
"I think that the sooner you return to the country the better. It is possible that the strain of coming out and the change of entering into gay life in town has been too much for you. Take care and economise your pleasures. Do not attempt too much; and if anything of the sort happens again, send for me."
"Then you won't mention this to my aunt?"
"No, not this time. I will say that you have been a little over-wrought and must be spared too much excitement."
"Thank you so much, Dr. Groves."
Now it was that a new mystery came to confound Betty. She rang her bell.
"Martha," said she, when her maid appeared, "where is that novel I had yesterday from the circulating library? I put it on the boudoir table."
"I have not noticed it, miss."
"Please look for it. I have hunted everywhere for it, and it cannot be found."
"I will look in the parlour, miss, and the schoolroom."
"I have not been into the schoolroom at all, and I know that it is not in the drawing-room."
A search was instituted, but the book could not be found. On the morrow it was in the boudoir, where Betty had placed it on her return from Mudie's.
"One of the maids took it," was her explanation. She did not much care for the book; perhaps that was due to her preoccupation, and not to any lack of stirring incident in the story. She sent it back and took out another. Next morning that also had disappeared.
It now became customary, as surely as she drew a novel from the library, that it vanished clean away. Betty was greatly amazed. She could not read a novel she had brought home till a day or two later. She took to putting the book, so soon as it was in the house, into one of her drawers, or into a cupboard. But the result was the same. Finally, when she had locked the newly acquired volume in her desk, and it had disappeared thence also, her patience gave way. There must be one of the domestics with a ravenous appetite for fiction, which drove her to carry off a book of the sort whenever it came into the house, and even to tamper with a lock to obtain it. Betty had been most reluctant to speak of the matter to her aunt, but now she made to her a formal complaint.
The servants were all questioned, and strongly protested their innocence. Not one of them had ventured to do such a thing as that with which they were charged.
However, from this time forward the annoyance ceased, and Betty and Lady Lacy naturally concluded that this was the result of the stir that had been made.
"Betty," said Lady Lacy, "what do you say to going to the new play at the Gaiety? I hear it very highly spoken of. Mrs. Fontanel has a box and has asked if we will join her."
"I should love it," replied the girl; "we have been rather quiet of late." But her heart was oppressed with fear.
She said to her maid: "Martha, will you dress me this evening—and—pray stay with me till my aunt is ready and calls for me?"
"Yes, miss, I shall be pleased to do so." But the girl looked somewhat surprised at the latter part of the request.
Betty thought well to explain: "I don't know what it is, but I feel somewhat out of spirits and nervous, and am afraid of being left alone, lest something should happen."
"Happen, miss! If you are not feeling well, would it not be as well to stay at home?"
"Oh, not for the world! I must go. I shall be all right so soon as I am in the carriage. It will pass off then."
"Shall I get you a glass of sherry, or anything?"
"No, no, it is not that. You remain with me and I shall be myself again."
That evening Betty went to the theatre. There was no recurrence of the sleeping fit with its concomitants. Captain Fontanel was in the box, and made himself vastly agreeable. He had his seat by Betty, and talked to her not only between the acts,