Small Robert was in bed and should have been asleep; but Beatrice, listening, heard a forlorn little yawn and knew that the excitement of the evening or the tea-and-chrysanthemum dinner had been too much for his nerves. This suited her exactly; and watching her chance she stole into the room, or bed closet, known as “the boys’,” and perched herself on the pillow where Roland’s head would repose somewhat later.
“Hello, Bob! Asleep?”
“You know I ain’t. What’s up?”
“I am. I’ve something to say to you.”
“I hain’t done nothin’. What have I done?”
“Nothing but goodness, small sir. Bonny doesn’t scold, does she?”
“Sometimes,” answered the truthful child.
“Well, she isn’t going to now. She wants your assistance.”
“I’m goin’ ter sleep.”
“Pooh! I don’t want you to do anything to-night. I want to consult with you. Bob, are you awake?”