Just at that moment Mrs. Jeffrey appeared. Alarmed by the unusual
noise, and fancying the young gentlemen might be robbing the house as
a farewell performance, she had donned a calico wrapper, and tying a
black silk handkerchief over her cap, had taken her scissors, the only
weapon of defense she could find, and thus equipped for battle she had
sallied forth. She was prepared for burglars--nay, she would not
have been disappointed had she found the young men busily engaged in
removing the ponderous furniture from their rooms; but the sight of
Madam Conway, at that unseasonable hour, was wholly unexpected, and in
her fright she dropped the lamp which she had lighted in place of her
candle, and which was broken in fragments, deluging the carpet with
oil and eliciting a fresh groan from Madam Conway.
"Jeffrey, Jeffrey!" she gasped; "what have you done?"
"Great goodness!" ejaculated Mrs. Jeffrey, remembering her adventure
when once before she left her room in the night. "I certainly am the
most unfortunate of mortals. Catch me out of bed again, let what will
happen;" and turning, she was about to leave the hall, when Madam
Conway, anxious to know what had been done, called her back, saying
rather indignantly, "I'd like to know whose house I am in?"
"A body would suppose 'twas Miss Margaret's, the way she's conducted,"
answered Mrs. Jeffrey; and Madam Conway continued, pointing to the
boots: "Who have we here? These are not Margaret's, surely?"
"No, ma'am, they belong to the young men who have turned the house
topsy-turvy with their tableaux, their Revolution celebration, their
banner, and carousing generally," said Mrs.
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