However, it was just as well to pack while she had time. She could keep
the suit-case hidden until the auspicious moment arrived. It would only
take a moment to open it and sweep her toilet articles into it from the
top of her dresser.
She had just taken a fresh shirtwaist out of the drawer when there was a
light, determined rap at the door. When she opened it, she was much
astonished to see Aunt Francesca come in, dressed for a drive.
"Are you almost ready, Isabel?" she asked, politely.
"Ready," gasped the girl. "For what?"
It seemed for the moment as though she had been anticipated in her
departure and was about to be put out of the house.
"To drive over to Kent's," answered Madame, imperturbably. From her
manner one would have thought the drive had been long planned.
Isabel sat down on her bed. "I'm not going," she said.
"Oh, yes, you are," returned Madame, in a small, thin voice. "You may go
in your tea gown and slippers if you prefer, but I will wait until you
dress, if you are quick about it."
"I won't," Isabel announced, flatly. "I'm sick. You know I'm all bruised
up and I can't walk.
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