“Bonnie May,” she announced, “I think it’s high time for a little girl to be in bed.”
CHAPTER VI
CONCERNING A FROCK
It might have been, and should have been, apparent to the several members of the Baron household that Bonnie May had been giving an admirable exhibition of self-repression from the moment she had entered the house.
A change came at last—when Mrs. Baron disturbed the reading of the play and announced, at nine o’clock, that it was “high time for a little girl to be in bed.”
Mrs. Baron couldn’t possibly have realized how Bonnie May had been accustomed to divide her hours between sleeping and waking. The guest had spent her life among player people, whose active hours begin at noon or later, and who do not deem the day ended until after midnight—sometimes far later than midnight. Nor had it been found convenient—or needful—by Bonnie May’s fellow workers to make any exception to the rule on her behalf. She had been one of them, and she had fared well and pleasantly.
Thus it was that when Mrs. Baron appeared, somewhat like a bolt out of a clear sky, the child gave way to overwhelming rebellion.
“I’m not used to going to bed at this hour,” she declared bluntly. She arose and stood by her chair, like a soldier by his guns, as the saying is. And taking in the inexorable expression in Mrs. Baron’s eyes, she turned appealingly to Baron. She was relying upon him to help her.
“Couldn’t she—” began Baron weakly, and added, quite without conviction: “You know it’s Saturday night, mother!” He was glad he had thought of its being Saturday, though he couldn’t see why that should make very much difference. He really believed his mother’s position was strong enough, if she had only gone about the matter more tactfully.
“Saturday night doesn’t make any difference,” declared Bonnie May, her rebellion now including Baron in its scope. “It just isn’t a reasonable bedtime.”
Baron felt ready to surrender. “Anyway, it won’t be so bad just for one night,” he ventured.