"What are you talking to yourself about?" queried Grace, irritably. "A
person has a fine chance to sleep--"

"Sleep!" cried Betty, indignantly. "What on earth do you want to sleep
for? Do you know what day this is?"

"Friday," Grace answered mechanically, then seeing the point of the
question, sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes.

"Oh, I--forgot," she stammered. "They're--they're going away, aren't
they?"

"Yes; unless, they've changed their minds since last 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.