The twin rosewood beds lay side by side enveloped 299 by the transparent silken hangings of a single canopy. The room was exquisitely done in pink and everywhere were evidences that the two lucky mortals who slumbered therein were coddled and pampered to the limit of modern luxury.
Sadie’s robe de nuit, as the fashion magazines put it, was a creation of laces and ribbons and mighty becoming. She had admitted this to herself as she surveyed her reflection in the tall oval mirror only five hours before. She admitted it again as she hopped out of bed and confronted herself in the same mirror. Then she turned and ran quickly to the side of Helen’s bed.
She bent down and kissed her cousin.
“Get up, Helen,” Sadie urged, as the blue eyes reluctantly opened. “Get up and dress, dear––we haven’t much time.”
“Much time for what?” asked Helen, sitting up and going through the ceremony of rubbing her eyes.
“Much time before Auntie wakes.”
A roseate blush spread up from the ribbons at Sadie’s throat to the roots of her fair hair.
Helen’s eyes were wide open now and she looked at her cousin in frowning puzzlement.
“And Mr. Hogg is expected,” said Sadie, with swift inspiration.
“Whatever are you driving at?” asked Helen.