"Well, they sound all right, but I don't believe handmaidens ought to wear trailing gowns. How could they handmaid?"
"That's so," said Kitty, a little crestfallen.
"Never mind; I spect they could. They could gracefully throw the trails over their arms, as they glide along in their sandalled feet."
"Yes, and strains of music came from concealed luters—"
"Huh! looters are burglars, and it's slang besides."
"No, not that kind. Luters that play on lutes, I mean. And the Princess Delight would sniff attar of rose, and fan herself with waving peacock feathers."
"A slave ought to do that."
"Well, all right, let him. And then the Princess falls asleep 'neath her silken coverlet, and lets her sister put out the lights,—like this!" and with a jump, Kitty bounced into her own little bed, and pulled up the down coverlet to her chin.
Imitating the white-robed handmaidens, Marjorie swayed around to an improvised chant of her own, and putting out the electric lights with much dramatic elaboration, she finally swayed into her own bed, and after they had both chanted a choric good-night, they soon fell sleep.