a word of what we've been doing."

"Oh, no, we mustn't," agreed Amy in alarm. "She'd be just as apt as
anything to put on her hat and leave us without a word."

"You know, it is going to be rather close quarters," sighed Grace, as they
turned to leave the room. "We won't be able to move without falling over
somebody's feet."

"You needn't look at mine," Mollie retorted with spirit. "Why is it that
whenever you make a disparaging remark you never fail to look at me?"

"That's easy," Grace returned with a twinkle. "All you have to do is to
look in your mirror--"

"Oh dear, and I suggested it," mourned Betty, as they descended the stairs
arm in arm. "We'll have to give them the cots, Amy; it would be murderous
to let those two sleep together."

"Ah, 'tis a deep, dark plot," cried Mollie, staggering dramatically and
almost falling downstairs. "I see it all--they get the bed while we, poor
wretches that we are, toss our uneasy bones upon the cot--"

Amy screamed and Grace covered her ears.

"Goodness, what do you think this is--a ghost's retreat?" demanded the
latter, while Betty chuckled joyfully. "'Toss our uneasy bones,' indeed!"

"Does sound kind of grizzly, doesn't it?" Mollie admitted. "Just the same,
I wager that's what Betty intended."