Very obligingly Mr. Folsom consented to the change of time, and the entire family sat up until eleven o'clock that night figuring out how to make motor bonnets of left-over coats and planning vacation motor trips for ten years in advance.
At five-thirty the next morning Treasure and Zee made a tour of the house, wakening every member of the family in no idle manner.
"Going to sleep all day?" Zee demanded in a peevish voice when she had shaken Rosalie four times. "Get up, so you'll be ready for the car."
"Zee Artman, you go right back to bed, and let me sleep," protested Rosalie. "Do I have to sit up all night just because the car is coming to-morrow?"
"You get out, or we'll pull you out. Treasure and I are all dressed. We're not going to have things held up at the last minute because somebody isn't down yet. Are you going to get up— Have you got the water, Treasure?"
In the face of such persistence the others were helpless, so they rushed down and had a feverish breakfast, with Zee dashing away from the table every three minutes to see if the car had come, and at seven-thirty they were grouped impatiently at the front window.
"Keep behind the curtains," Rosalie urged, "or he will think we never had a car before in our lives."
"We must call it the machine," said Zee. "Machine sounds so unconcerned."
"Motor, you little goose," said Rosalie. "Machine is what the business men call it. The highbrows say, 'The motor will be here at six.'"