{{betlep210.png}}

"I've a headache, Will, and I'm going to the
dressing room to the maid a moment."

That was satisfactory to the befuddled lad,
and Betty, troubled and disgusted, and wonder-
ing how she was going to get home, flew up-
stairs. The maid was not in the dressing room
where Betty had left her wrap and the scarf
she wore around her head at her mother's sug-
gestion. She was glad of that. If she had to
get home by street car it would not be so bad.
But she had worn her light satin slippers and
oh -- it was raining! They would be ruined.
Where was the telephone? She could call her
father, though he might be in bed. It was mid-
night by this time, Betty supposed.

She wondered where the maid was and tim-
idly wandered down the hall, peeping into rooms
evidently used, or intended to be used, by any
guest. Then the maid came hurrying from some-
where, too intent on whatever her errand was to
notice Betty. But Betty asked, "Where is Mrs.
Huxley, please?"

"Oh, dem folks is gwine off somewhere. Dey
tells me to look afteh the young folks, an' it's
too big a job foh one pusson. I done tol' her
so, but she'd had too much o' dat bootleggeh
stuff hehse'f at dinneh. Ah's goin' down afteh

 [[210]]