Martha approached cautiously, still feeling her way, though there was no need for it, the room being full of light.
She groped like a blind woman for Miss Juliana's forehead, laying her hand there before she looked into her face.
After some fumbling futile experiments with brandy, a looking-glass and a feather, old Martha hid these things carefully out of sight; she disarranged the bed, turning back the clothes as they might have been left by one newly wakened and risen out of it; drew a shawl over the head and shoulders of the figure in the chair; pulled down the blind and closed the curtains till the room was dark again.

Then she groped her way out and down the stairs to her mistress's door.

There she stayed a moment, gathering her feeble wits together for the part she meant to play.

She had made up her mind what she would do.
So she called the Old Lady as usual; said she was afraid there was something the matter with Miss Juliana; thought she might have got up a bit too early and turned faint like.
The Old Lady answered that she would come and see; and the two crept up the stairs, and went groping their way in the dark of the curtained room.
Old Martha fumbled a long time with the blind; she drew back the curtains little by little, with infinite precaution letting in the light upon the fearful thing.
But the Old Lady approached it boldly.
"Don't you know me, Jooley dear ?" she said, peering into the strange eyes.

There was no recognition in them for all their staring.
"Don't know _me_, m'm," said Martha soothingly; "seems all of a white swoon, don't she ?" Martha was warming to her part.