It seemed warm and murky after the sharp fresh from the sea, and Edna, for all her excitement, was ready for bed early. Just as she was going upstairs the telephone rang, and Celia answered. "Someone for you, Edna," she said, and Edna went to the 'phone.
"Hallo, Edna," came Dorothy's familiar voice "I couldn't go to sleep without saying good-night [188]to you. I thought I could but I couldn't. Are you all right?"
"Yes. Are you? Wasn't it funny that we didn't find anyone home when we got here. Why didn't you come over?"
"Why didn't you?" Then each heard a little giggle, for the same reason was in the mind of each.
"Well, good-night. I kind of miss you, Edna," came Dorothy's final words.
"And I kind of miss you. Good-night."
There was no sound of murmuring waves on the beach, no Jennie in the next room, and no Dorothy as bed-fellow, but instead there was the murmur of leaves making a pleasant song, there was Celia playing softly on the piano, and best of all there was mother very near; so Edna turned over with a sigh of content, glad that she was in her own home.
THE END.
Transcriber's note:
The following corrections have been made: