Her original plan began to re-present itself to her; modified, of course, to meet the altered conditions.

If she could only remain here, undiscovered, then months hence, when it was announced that Mrs.De Peyster (she sent up a warm prayer for Olivetta!) was homeward bound, Jack and Mary and that unthinkable Mr.Pyecroft would decamp, if they had not gone before, and leave the way clear for the easy interchange by Olivetta and herself of their several personalities.
As she lay there in the gentle Sabbath calm, in the extra-curled hair of her ultra-superior mattress, this revised version of her plan, in the first glow of its conception, seemed alluringly plausible.

She had to be more careful, to be sure, but aside from this the new plan seemed quite as good as the original.

In fact, in her reaction from the alarms of yesterday, it somehow seemed even better.
Twelve hours before there had seemed no possible solution to her predicament.

And here it was--come unexpectedly to her aid, as was the way with things in life; and a very simple solution, too.
Lazily, hazily, a poet's line teased and evaded her memory.