CHAPTER XLIII.
THE CIRCUMVENTION OF AUNTIE.
Sadie sat up with a start and rubbed her eyes.
“All right, Nanette,” she said sleepily. “I’m awake.”
The trim, rosy-cheeked maid smiled and swiftly left the room.
She had deposited one armful of fluffy things on a chair beside Sadie’s bed and another armful of fluffy things on a chair beside Helen’s bed. She had also performed other mysterious little offices noiselessly before going to the side of Sadie’s bed.
“And sleeping like an innocent babe,” said the comely Nanette to herself with a depth of affection in her tone. Then she bent down and called in Sadie’s ear:
“Ten o’clock, Miss Sadie.”
She had to repeat the whispered call several times before Sadie’s eyelids fluttered and she stirred into life. The maid had vanished by the time the younger of the two sleeping beauties had removed the cobwebs from her eyes.