Escape the Night by Mignon G. Eberhart Read Free Book Online Page A

up, Serena. Good night.”
    This time he went away quickly. She moved, too, scarcely aware of it; but she was at the veranda railing again when the sound of his footsteps reached the gate, and left the flagged walk for the graveled drive, and then rapidly diminished.
    It was curious that she fell immediately into a deep sleep. It was as untroubled a sleep as if every problem that could exist for her, ever, had been solved and even in her sleep a warmth and glow lingered gently and happily, and with the strangest sense of security.
    She still had that sense of serene and happy security when she awoke. She remembered why instantly. She was at home, she was in a pleasant, sunlit room in Amanda’s house. She had seen Jem, and everything was going to be all right and she’d been right to come. Suppose she hadn’t come!
    She thought that swiftly and with the clarity of wakening and then Amanda opened the door and came in. She was dressed to riding breeches and a white shirt and carried a tray. “Darling,” she said, “you did say come in, didn’t you? It’s nearly noon. I’ve brought your breakfast. No need to ask you how you slept.”
    Serena sat up and yawned and stuffed pillows sleepily behind her back. “This is luxury,” she said, yawning again.” Oh, Amanda, I’m so glad to be home.”
    “Good,” said Amanda. She put the tray across Serena’s knees. “Darling, I hate it, but I’ve got to go out. Can you amuse yourself here? Aunt Luisa’s at home; you won’t be alone.”
    “But, of course. What marvelous coffee!”
    “Yes, Modeste’s good at coffee making. Thank Heaven, I’ve still got Ramon and Modeste. When the war began, the Japanese and Germans, in fact all enemy aliens were interned right away, of course, and it practically denuded the kitchens all along the coast. But Ramon and Modeste are natives. I’m sorry I have to leave for a few hours but—oh, Sissy dear, you were always such a lamb. Just put this little package somewhere, will you? And keep it for me.”
    “Why”—she glanced at the paper-wrapped, lumpish little package in Amanda’s hand—“of course.” She felt gay and petted and secure; nothing could have seemed wrong or out of place that morning. “No questions asked,” she said, smiling up at Amanda.
    “No questions asked,” agreed Amanda, but somberly, and both looked toward the door as a short, compact woman of about fifty, in a shabby gray flannel suit, appeared there.
    “Good morning,” she said firmly, looking at Serena with pale, observant blue eyes. “I suppose you are Serena March?”
    “Of course, Aunt Luisa. I was going to call you. This is my little sister. Serena, this is our aunt, Miss Condit.”
    “Luisa de la Vega Condit,” said Miss Condit, coming forward. She eyed Serena, who felt very young and childish, in her thin lacy nightgown, with her dark hair around her shoulders and tied back from her face with a blue ribbon. “How do you do?” said Miss Condit after a scrutiny, and turned instantly to Amanda. “Are you going out?”
    “Yes, but Sissy will be here. And I’ve got to run along now.” Amanda glanced rather sharply at Serena. “You do look marvelous, Sissy,” she said abruptly. “I never saw you look so—well, just like that. What’s come over you?”
    Oh, dear, thought Serena in amused dismay; flags out, carnivals and dancing in the street! Is it my eyes? She looked at her coffee and said mischievously, “Like what?”
    “I don’t exactly know,” said Amanda slowly. “Different. As if”—she hesitated, hunting for words—“as if somebody had given you something.”
    Luisa de la Vega Condit gave a short and unexplained laugh. Amanda’s lovely face froze. Serena risked another question. “Aren’t you coming home to lunch? Jem is to be here, isn’t he?”
    “Jem?” said Amanda in a faintly surprised tone. “Why, no.”
    “But he—I thought you said last night …”
    “Oh, Jem phoned. He’s not coming to lunch,”