"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.