The girls giggled and Grace looked around for an instrument of punishment. Not finding any, she was forced to resort to sarcasm.
"I guess you must have caught that particular form of insanity from Roy," she said.
"Well, as long as it wasn't the measles—" Mollie was beginning when Amy broke in with one of those absolutely irrelevant remarks of hers, that made her different from every one else.
"I wonder," she said thoughtfully, "if the boys will fall in love with those nice little French girls. They say they're awfully attractive."
"Amy, what ever put such a thing into your head?" cried Betty, while the other two stared at her wide-eyed, not knowing whether to laugh or to be indignant.
"Oh—nothing," she answered vaguely. "I was just wondering, that's all."
"Well," said Mollie, throwing back the covers preparatory to rising, "I might suggest that the next time you feel it coming on, you might choose something more comfortable, that's all. Wondering about such things might become wearing. What's that?" she asked, as a sharp tap sounded on the door.
"A caller, presumably," Grace remarked, as she slipped on a dressing gown and approached the door.
The early morning caller proved to be, much to their surprise and delight, no other than Mrs. Sanderson.
The old lady's eyes were unusually bright, and there was a flush on her face.