Serious, moaning and groaning, and predicting all sorts of calamities from the presence of the unconscious child, went up before her mistress and opened the bedroom door.
Roma laid the child on the outside of the bed and began to undress her so softly and deftly that Owlet never fully waked up, but only sighed with relief at being able to stretch out her tired limbs.
“Open that bag on the floor and give me the little nightdress out of it,” said the lady.
Serious groaned, and obeyed.
And Roma, having gently slipped the dainty white cambric gown on the small sleeper, turned down the bed and tenderly laid the little one within it.
Then she dismissed Serious for the night, and disrobed, and retired to rest, and—thanks to the day’s fatiguing journey—she also, notwithstanding her anxiety, sank to sleep.
“Oh! oh! oh!”
These words were the first sounds heard by Roma when she awoke on the morning after her arrival at Goblin Hall.
She looked up, and saw little Owlet standing, in her white nightgown, at the front window, which, with her usual innocent assurance, she had taken the liberty to open.
“Well, little one, up so early?” said Roma cheerfully.