The girls parted at Gladys' gate, and Marjorie went on home to luncheon.
"It's perfectly lovely, Mother!" she cried, as she entered the house. "I never saw such a beautiful fair."
"That's good, girlie; and now you must eat your luncheon and then lie down for a little rest before you go this afternoon."
"Oh, Mother Maynard! Why, I'm not a bit tired. You must think I'm an old lady."
Mrs. Maynard smiled at the bright face and dancing eyes, which certainly showed no trace of weariness.
But after luncheon she said: "Now, Midget, you must go to your room, and lie down for half an hour. Close your eyes, and rest even if you do not sleep."
Midget drew a long sigh, and walked slowly off to obey. She lay down on her own little white bed, but though she managed to close her eyes for nearly half a minute, they then flew wide open.
"Mother!" she called out. "I can't keep my eyes shut, unless I pin them. Shall I do that?"
"Don't be foolish, Marjorie," called back Mrs. Maynard, from her own room. "Go to sleep."
"But, Mother, I can't go to sleep. I'm as wide-awake as a—a weasel. Mother, what time are you going to the fair?"