And now the house was still, and our four friends in their bathrobes were seated on the hearth rug around the wood fire in one of the bedrooms, talking in whispers, as girls will do after a party.
“Do you suppose Belle Rogers has been converted, or reformed, or something?” observed Nancy. “What else could have induced her to be so unselfish as to wear Fannie’s old dress and let Fannie wear her best one?”
“It’s the mystery of the age,” said Elinor. “And how different she seemed, too. How quiet and meek. Perhaps, after all, it was her clothes that made her haughty. Who could be anything but lowly in a faded yellow muslin?”
“She was angry at first,” put in Mary. “I saw the danger signals at dinner. But I really believe she had as good a time as any of us afterwards. Perhaps she realized that without the blue satin, she was just on a par with the rest of us, and she forgot to be conscious.”
“And how different Fannie was under the influence of the blue satin,” continued Elinor. “She talked and laughed quite loudly, and she was really rude to Belle several times. Girls, if we ever have blue satins, will they change our dispositions——”
A tap at the door interrupted the conversation, and Mrs. St. Clair, in a long lavender dressing gown, tripped into the room.
“I hope our talking hasn’t disturbed you, Mrs. St. Clair,” said Billie.
“No, no, dear, I am glad you were talking, because I had hoped to find some one of you still awake. I have come to ask a great favor. Will one of you, or all of you, go with me up in the attic for a few minutes? I should have asked one of the servants, but their lights are all out. I suppose they are sound asleep. Percy is asleep, too. I have just come from his room. He is tired out. You can’t think how hard he has worked in the last few days.”
“Let me go with you, Mrs. St. Clair,” put in Elinor.
“Let us all go,” suggested Billie.