"Just where we always do, Sarah," replied Nelly, much surprised at this question.
"Well, miss, I'll be up long before light and get the house as warm as toast by the time you can see to tell the toes from the heels of your stockings," said Sarah. "Good-night, Miss Nelly. Good-night, Master Rob."
"What could she have meant asking where we'd be sleeping?" said Rob.
"I'm sure I don't know," said Nelly; "it's very queer. We've never slept anywhere but in these two beds since we were babies. I don't know what's got into her head. It's the queerest thing I ever knew. I guess she was sleepy," and in a few moments both the children were fast asleep.
Rob was the first to wake up. It was not much past midnight.
"Nelly," he whispered. No answer.
Twice he called: still no answer. There was not a sound to be heard except the loud ticking of the high clock at the head of the stairs. Presently there came a rustle and quick low steps, and his mother stood by his bed.
"What do you want, my dear little boy?" she said. "Is your throat worse?"
"No; isn't it time to get up?" said Rob. "Hasn't Sarah made the fire?"
"Oh, mercy!" exclaimed Mrs. March. "Is that all? Why Rob! it isn't anywhere near morning. You must go to sleep again, child; it is a terribly cold night," and she tucked the bed-clothes tight around him, and ran back to her own room.