"Assist Miss Vanstone," said the captain. "And the next time you forget
yourself in your chair, fall asleep straight--don't annoy me by falling
asleep crooked."
Mrs. Wragge opened her eyes a little wider, and looked at Magdalen in
helpless amazement.
"Is the captain breakfasting by candle-light?" she inquired, meekly.
"And haven't I done the omelette?"
Before her husband's corrective voice could apply a fresh stimulant,
Magdalen took her compassionately by the arm and led her out of the
room.
"Another object besides the object I know of?" repeated Captain Wragge,
when he was left by himself. "_Is_ there a gentleman in the background,
after all? Is there mischief brewing in the dark that I don't bargain
for?"
CHAPTER III.
TOWARD six o'clock the next morning, the light pouring in on her face
awoke Magdalen in the bedroom in Rosemary Lane.
She started from her deep, dreamless repose of the past night with that
painful sense of bewilderment, on first waking, which is familiar to all
sleepers in strange beds. "Norah!" she called out mechanically, when she
opened her eyes. The next instant her mind roused itself, and her senses
told her the truth.
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