“And you’re not to have kimono confabs all night, either,” she ordered. “Patty, you’ll be good for nothing tomorrow, if you don’t get some rest. And the others, too.”
But there was more or less chattering and giggling before the girls separated for the night. It seemed natural for them to drift into Patty’s boudoir and in their pretty negligées they dawdled about while Patty brushed her hair.
“What goldilocks!” exclaimed Marie, in admiration. And truly, Patty’s hair was a thing to admire. Thick and curling, it hung well below her waist, and shone with a golden glimmer as the light touched its rippling lengths.
“It’s an awful nuisance,” Patty declared; “there’s such a lot of it, and it does snarl so.”
“Let me help you,” cried Daisy, springing up and taking the brush from Patty’s hand. “Mona, do the other side.”
Mona seized another brush and obeyed, and as the two brushed most vigorously, Patty’s little head was well pulled about.
“Thank you, girls, oh, thank you ever so much, but truly, I don’t mind doing it myself! Oh, honestly, I don’t!”
Patty rescued her brushes, and soon had the rebellious locks in two long pigtails for the night.
“Now, scoot, all of you,” she said, “this is the time I seek repose for my weary limbs, on beds of asphodel—or—whatever I mean.”
“Beds of nothing,” said Mona, “I’m not a bit sleepy. Let us stay a little longer, Patty, dear,—sweet Patty, ah, do now.”