Lillian and Bee scramble into bed, Dorothy and Betty hide behind screen, Florence, Vivian and Maude dive under bed. Effie unlocks door, calmly fills her hands and apron with goodies and gets into the box couch. Someone knocks twice, then door opens and Mrs. Waterman enters.
Mrs. Waterman. Lillian! Beatrice! (No answer. She lights lamp and looks around her, advances to bed, holds lamp high.) Lillian! Beatrice! (Still no answer. Girls appear to be asleep. She gives a quick glance behind screen, then seats herself near table, occasionally glaring at or beneath the bed. Talks aloud to herself.) Well, I think Miss Dunham must have been mistaken as to the number of voices she heard. No one here but Beatrice and Lillian and they sound asleep. I suppose their brains are weary from over study. (Looks at table.) I suppose this is the contents of Beatrice’s box. Spread out to see how much show it would make, I presume. A midnight feast, Miss Dunham seemed to think, but this seems hardly touched. I believe I’ll try a glass of that lemonade. How prodigal of Beatrice to make up so much at once. Doesn’t she know it won’t be nearly so good in the morning? (Pours out lemonade and sips it.) Delicious, I’m sure, and I believe a slice of that cake would be nice. (Takes it and tastes.) Ah, what an excellent cook Mrs. Mortimer is and what a delicate, refined little lady. I’m glad she has brought up her daughter to be sensible and keep her goodies for morning, when they’ll be digestible. I told Miss Dunham she was mistaken. Beatrice and Lillian are both too fond of me to grieve me by such a flagrant breach of rules. I told her she might go to bed and I’d go the rounds and see who was missing. It seems unnecessary now, however. (Betty gives a slight cough, immediately suppressed. Mrs. Mortimer looks toward bed.) There, Lillian has taken cold again. Her chest is so delicate. She must take a bottle of cod liver oil, I think. I’ll give her some in the morning. These things ought not to remain here, they’ll attract the rats. Let me see, there’s that clothes hamper. I’ll pack them in that and take them to my room for safe keeping. I presume Beatrice will be asking permission to have a party tomorrow afternoon or evening. Let’s see. I believe I can guess whom she will ask, even. Betty and Maude, Florence and Vivian and Dorothy. “We are Seven,” and where one is, behold the other six. Dear girls, I wonder if they know how truly I have their interests at heart, and how well I love them all. (Packs basket, commenting on food. As she rises from packing last of it, her eyes meet Effie’s, peeping out from couch. Effie dodges back, Mrs. W. advances, lifts cover and motions her to get out.) Why, Effie Warren! This is a surprise. How did you come in there?
Effie. I hid when I heard you coming.
Mrs. W. But how came you here at all? What are you doing in a room belonging to two large girls, when those two girls are abed and asleep?
Effie. Well, they didn’t want me and I just came.
Mrs. W. And you have been eating Bee’s goodies! Oh, what a pig! Did Bee give any of these to you?
Effie. No’m, but—
Mrs. W. What do we call it when one person takes another’s goods without their knowledge or permission?
Effie. Truly, I wasn’t stealing, Mrs. Waterman. The idea! I wouldn’t! Besides they did know.
Mrs. W. And said you might?