One full busy night had done all that! And yet—
She glanced down at herself. Under her pink chin was the lace and ribbon of a night-dress. She could not remember being put to bed—could not even recall coming up in the bronze cage. And was the plaid gingham with the patch-pocket now hanging in the wardrobe? Brows knit, she slipped one small foot sidewise until it was close to the edge of the bed-covers, then of a sudden thrust it out from beneath them. The foot was as white as if it had only just been bathed! Not a sign did it show of having waded any stream, pattered through mud, or trudged a forest road!
Presently, "Moth-er,"—sleepily.
"Yes, darling?"
"Who are Law and Order?"
A moment's silence. Then, "Well—er—"
"Isn't it a fath-er-and-moth-er question?"
"Why, yes, my baby. But I—"
"Father will tell you, dear." He was seated beside her once more. "You see it's this way:"
"Can you tell it like a story, fath-er?"