"House afire?" she asked sleepily.
"Of course not, Silly. But the world is."
Betty was evidently in high spirits, thought Grace, as she rolled over and regarded her critically.
"What do you mean—'the world is'?" she inquired grumpily, managing with great difficulty, to open the other eye. "Can't you talk sense?"
"Not on a morning like this," retorted Betty, running to the window and thrusting her head far out into the balmy air. "Look, Lazybones, the roads are pretty nearly dry and we couldn't ask for a more wonderful day."
"What time is it?" queried Grace, without enthusiasm. She was always unenthusiastic before breakfast in the morning, especially if she happened to get to bed rather late the night before.
"Half-past six," replied Betty, turning from the window and beginning hurriedly to gather her things together. "And we all agreed last night to get up at six. I wonder if I'm the only one stirring."
As if in answer to her question, there came a soft tap on the door and their hostess' voice speaking to them.
"Breakfast is almost ready," she said. "I had it prepared early especially for you."
"That was dear of you," replied Betty, adding with the greatest of optimism, considering that three of them were not yet out of bed: "We'll be down in ten minutes."