"Anna, are you well?" asked the voice from behind the door. Anna jumped. It was her mother.
"Father said he saw you in the parlor. He said you had taken off your dress. Do you have a fever, child?"
"I’m … fine … Mother," Anna replied weakly.
"Then why did you disrobe? Really, Anna, such behavior is highly inappropriate for a proper young lady."
Anna looked down at Miss Celeste, hoping to find the answer in her painted brown eyes, then turned her face toward the door. She detested the thought of lying
to Mother, but not as much as she feared telling her the truth. "I … I had a bee in my petticoats. I thought it was going to sting me.
A chuckling rang in Anna’s head.
"In the future, you will either allow yourself to be stung, or find a more appropriate place in which to remove the offending insect," replied her mother through the
door. "Anna, is Miss Celeste in there with you. I need to speak with her."
Anna’s eyes grew wide. "Circe!" cried the panicked girl in a muffled shout. "What do I do? I can’t let Mother find Miss Celeste like this!"
"But Mistress," answered Circe. "I cannot tell you what to do. I can only do what you tell me to do."
"Miss Celeste. Anna," said Anna’s mother with a note of displeasure. "Will one of you please open this door."
"Stop speaking to me in riddles," said Anna as the doorknob began to turn. "I order you to remedy this situation immediately."
"Very well, Mistress," answered Circe, just as the heavy door creaked open.