On the return journey as she hurried up the corridor, having safely passed Miss Marlowe's door, she suddenly heard a soft footfall or the swish of a kimono, and then discovered a dark form bearing down upon her. Could it be Miss Marlowe? No, it wasn't tall enough. It must be Miss Ashwell. Judith flattened herself against the wall, which was fortunately in the shadow, in the hope that she would not be seen. But it was a very slender little hope, and for the second time that evening Judith was sure that their plans for a good time were ruined, when, just as she had given herself up for lost, the figure turned about and a voice, unmistakably Miss Ashwell's, said, "Bother! I've forgotten my sponge again."
Another disaster averted!
What a gorgeous time they had! What a heavenly chicken!
What luscious meringues! And if you have never in semi-darkness balanced a precious morsel of jelly on the end of a nail-file, you have missed one of thrills of real living.
"The spiffingest feed I ever had," declared Judith as they began to pack up the remains and remove all traces of their feast.
"Well, we haven't had all the thrills that you've had to-night, Judibus, but for once I've had a perfectly good meal," confessed Rosamond, who was holding the useful little flashlight, "and now I'm good and ready for my perfectly good bed." She was voicing a unanimous thought—they had had a jolly time, but their feet had gone to sleep and their eyes were beginning to feel drowsy—yes, certainly bed would be good.
Pillows were sorted out, and Nancy with the tiny light led the way. She tried to open the door; it would not budge! She pulled hard. Josephine pulled harder; Sally May tried; and then consternation took possession of their souls. Some one had them, had them with a vengeance! Whatever would they do now?
Sally May was not in the least daunted, whatever the others might feel. "I'll tell you," she said; "it's some one who wanted to come to the party doing it for a joke"—but that brought little comfort. The party was a secret, and who would know where to find them? Forebodings as to to-morrow's punishment filled their minds.
Sally May, however, was accustomed to punishments. "Sufficient unto the day" was evidently her motto. "Come on, let's tell ghost stories," she said, and the others obediently seated themselves on the floor again. Sally May produced a large box of chocolates which they were keeping for another time, and began a long tale of a ghost who followed, and followed, and followed a man up and down, up and down, the corridors of an old manor house. The hero could hear the ghost's footsteps and its blood-curdling laugh, but he was afraid to turn his head, and when he did—very, very, very, slowly—the muscles of seven little necks stiffened obedient to Sally May's suggestion—he saw a terrible—but here Rosamond broke in with an hysterical cry, "Please, Sally May, I can't bear any more"—and Sally May's spell was broken.
Indeed they all began to be frankly miserable, for they were chilly by this time, and even schoolgirls' stomachs are susceptible to unlimited cake and candy. Nancy fell asleep and leaned on Judith, making her most uncomfortable. Sally May confessed quite openly to a feeling of sickness, and in a steady whisper poured into Judith's ear the ghastly details of how ill she had been at Knowlton after a lobster supper. The night wore on. Most of them finally went to sleep in uncomfortable attitudes, but about four o'clock in the morning, Judith, who was much too unhappy and too uncomfortable to sleep, got up stiffly from the floor and walking about the room, tried the door once more. To her huge astonishment and joy it opened! Catherine had come up a couple of hours before, but the striking of the big clock in the hall had covered the very slight noise of the turning of the lock.