night," returned
Betty dryly. "Oh, Grace, please don't look so sleepy. You--you annoy me,"
she finished hysterically.

"Well, I'm sorry," said Grace, trying comically to appear dignified. "But
it really isn't so strange that I should look the way I feel--"

"Goodness, if I looked the way I feel, I'd be an awful mess," sighed Amy
from the other bed.

"Maybe you do," chuckled Mollie. "Shall I get you a mirror?"

"Well, if you'd been awake almost all night," Amy began, but Mollie cut
her short with a bear's hug.

"Forgive me, Amy," she said, with unusual humility. "I do know how awful
it is to lie awake nearly all night and just think.

"And I shouldn't blame any one the least bit," she finished, "for calling
me a mess, because I know I am. I'm positively afraid to look in the
mirror."

"All right, we'll have 'em all draped in black, just for your special
benefit," said Grace dryly. "Mollie, where did you put my stockings?"

"Goodness, what do you think I am?" retorted Mollie. "Your little French
maid?"

"Nothing half so cute," returned Grace ungraciously, while Betty and Amy
exchanged glances which, interpreted, meant: "We'll have our hands full
with these two, to-day, all right."

"Anyway, you didn't answer my question," Grace persisted. "I asked you
what you did with my stockings."

"Oh, I've got 'em on," replied Mollie sarcastically, smothering a yawn. "I
mislaid my slumber shoes and used them instead."

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. Wh