Scene II
The next morning, Laura’s father calls from the hallway looking for the maid. He opens the door, the body laying in front of it, and is taken aback. He rushes to Laura, who has blankets covering her head. He wakes her urgently.
Father: Laura! Has any harm come to you? You seem fine. Oh, thank God you’re safe! But how could you have slept through all that? I didn’t hear a single yelp last night, and I thought you would have woken up in the middle of the night, from some nightmare or another, as you always do. Somehow, you must have slept through it all. (He embraces her, happy to see that she’s all right, not even giving her a chance to answer. He leaves her to go examine the body. Housekeepers enter.)
She’s dead and how ungodly pale! Our once rosy-cheeked Ella. I should scarcely recognize her like this, and her face is frozen in such alarm! Did she have a sickness that any of you recall? Anemia, perhaps?
Housekeeper: Not that I know of...No, she couldn’t have. She was always so vivacious and able-bodied. She always pranced through the halls after a long day of work. There was not an ounce of illness in her. She never fatigued and always bounced back like a young green twig. Even when we all caught maladies, she was the sole person spared. It would be unlike her to fall ill, and never this horribly.
Father: I can’t understand why...and the window was left open. Ella always made sure to shut it. I mean, Laura has a terrible habit of opening the windows at night. No understanding at all of what insects and cold air can do to health. I can’t fathom why she’d do it, if she always demands several blankets, even during the summer months.
Housekeeper #2: It’s probably nothing more than a child’s negligence. I shouldn’t expect any ten year old to have such forethought, no matter how intelligent, and your daughter is no exception.
Laura: My neck really hurts.
Father: Perhaps you’ve slept on it crooked, but come here I will look. That’s bizarre. What odd incisions, I’ve never seen anything like it. They don’t seem deep. Perhaps it was from the day before. You always give meaning to the term “choker,” you really ought to tie your necklaces longer. As your mother always said, “one can outgrow necklaces as they do shoes.” Don’t worry, dear Laura, they will heal in a matter of days.
Laura: I saw a pretty, though peculiar, woman in here last night.
Father: What?
Laura: I saw a beautiful woman with long, dark, shiny hair and stunning dark eyes. She had the sweetest voice, and blended into the darkness, like a cat. One could only see her eyes when they shined like silver, reflecting the light of the moon. Oh, I thought she was all good, too good, but then she attacked Ella. It was horrible, but she was too beautiful to be upset with. Much too beautiful to let myself hate.
Father: Laura, I think it was merely another nightmare. Your window is fifty feet from the ground, and if some criminal or another were to want in, he would have likely come through the downstairs. And why on earth would he attack Ella, the sweetest of all Styria? There’s some piece of evidence that we must be missing. I shall go fetch the doctor before nightfall, for she looks unnaturally pale, even for the pallor of death.
The next morning, Laura’s father calls from the hallway looking for the maid. He opens the door, the body laying in front of it, and is taken aback. He rushes to Laura, who has blankets covering her head. He wakes her urgently.
Father: Laura! Has any harm come to you? You seem fine. Oh, thank God you’re safe! But how could you have slept through all that? I didn’t hear a single yelp last night, and I thought you would have woken up in the middle of the night, from some nightmare or another, as you always do. Somehow, you must have slept through it all. (He embraces her, happy to see that she’s all right, not even giving her a chance to answer. He leaves her to go examine the body. Housekeepers enter.)
She’s dead and how ungodly pale! Our once rosy-cheeked Ella. I should scarcely recognize her like this, and her face is frozen in such alarm! Did she have a sickness that any of you recall? Anemia, perhaps?
Housekeeper: Not that I know of...No, she couldn’t have. She was always so vivacious and able-bodied. She always pranced through the halls after a long day of work. There was not an ounce of illness in her. She never fatigued and always bounced back like a young green twig. Even when we all caught maladies, she was the sole person spared. It would be unlike her to fall ill, and never this horribly.
Father: I can’t understand why...and the window was left open. Ella always made sure to shut it. I mean, Laura has a terrible habit of opening the windows at night. No understanding at all of what insects and cold air can do to health. I can’t fathom why she’d do it, if she always demands several blankets, even during the summer months.
Housekeeper #2: It’s probably nothing more than a child’s negligence. I shouldn’t expect any ten year old to have such forethought, no matter how intelligent, and your daughter is no exception.
Laura: My neck really hurts.
Father: Perhaps you’ve slept on it crooked, but come here I will look. That’s bizarre. What odd incisions, I’ve never seen anything like it. They don’t seem deep. Perhaps it was from the day before. You always give meaning to the term “choker,” you really ought to tie your necklaces longer. As your mother always said, “one can outgrow necklaces as they do shoes.” Don’t worry, dear Laura, they will heal in a matter of days.
Laura: I saw a pretty, though peculiar, woman in here last night.
Father: What?
Laura: I saw a beautiful woman with long, dark, shiny hair and stunning dark eyes. She had the sweetest voice, and blended into the darkness, like a cat. One could only see her eyes when they shined like silver, reflecting the light of the moon. Oh, I thought she was all good, too good, but then she attacked Ella. It was horrible, but she was too beautiful to be upset with. Much too beautiful to let myself hate.
Father: Laura, I think it was merely another nightmare. Your window is fifty feet from the ground, and if some criminal or another were to want in, he would have likely come through the downstairs. And why on earth would he attack Ella, the sweetest of all Styria? There’s some piece of evidence that we must be missing. I shall go fetch the doctor before nightfall, for she looks unnaturally pale, even for the pallor of death.