“As if she could get out of bed——”
“Why couldn’t she? After last night I wonder if she will ever feel safe in bed again. Seems to me,” said the incorrigible Wynnie, “she could do lots more good sitting up—raiding attics and things like that.”
“But Chicks,” said Thistle from a rumpled pillow, “isn’t that child a dream?”
“You mean didn’t that child dream——”
“No, I do not. I think she is the most adorable thing. Why, she looks exactly like a painting we have——”
“There—there,” soothed Treble.
“Don’t get homesick,” Pell called out. “We have a few more days to go before time to break camp and you want to be in at the big party, don’t you?”
“I think the prince part simply the most marvelous story I have ever heard,” said Treble, under her breath. It was too early to join in a general wake-up.
“Leave it to Alma,” whispered Laddie. “I always said these quiet little girls have the most fun. I heard Wyn groaning in her sleep after every one else was aslumber. That’s the kind of fun she has.”
“Looks as if Nora had not walked in her sleep, at any rate,” put in Betta. “I move we get up and slick things up early. How do we know but the myth flew away in the night?”