Slipping on a skirt and a long ulster, Mary took her departure with Judith and the other girls, who did not have rooms at Queen’s, and pretty soon the party had disbanded.
“I’ll stay and help you gather up the loaves and fishes,” Judy announced. “It’ll soon be ten, but we can hang a dressing gown over the transom and draw the blinds and no one will know the difference just this once,” she added, proceeding to carry out her ideas of deception.
“I’m still hungry,” observed Nance. “I had to wait on so many people I didn’t have a chance to eat any supper myself.”
“So am I famished,” said Molly; “but I was ashamed to confess it.”
“I’d like a cup of hot tea,” observed Judy, who had waited on nobody but herself.
“When Mrs. Markham comes around,” cautioned Nance, “in case she knocks on the door, one of us be ready to put out the light. Judy, you slip into the closet. She’s been known to come in, you know, after one of these jamborees.”
“Mrs. Markham’s away,” answered Judy. “‘Steel beads’ is taking her place until after Thanksgiving.”
The girls munched their sandwiches and talked in low voices. Suddenly there was a sharp rap on the door. Instantly the light went out and there was dead silence. Judy, crawling on all fours toward the closet, was about to conceal herself behind protecting skirts, when the rap was repeated.
“Well, what is it?” called Nance, the boldest among them, “the light is out.”
There was no answer and the rap was not repeated.