"Scared to death, and so unconscious of her charms. There Janie, my
brain is sound asleep this moment. If I say real words they must be
coming from another world. This is gone." Judith ducked deeper into
the pillowless couch. She plainly was sleepy.

"Why Judith Stearns," called Jane severely, "you are giving me as
much trouble as a baby. Don't you dare fall asleep. We have got to
make beds yet. That comes of your notion not to have ready-to-wear
beds in our suite. And you can just see how much fun it is to drag
things out on tired nights." Jane sprang up from the divan and tried
to yank the sleepy girl after her. "Come on, Pally," she implored.
"I'll do most all the fixing, only I really demur at the disrobing.
You know my hatred for buttons and fastenings. I wouldn't leave one
snap to meet its partner. Come on Judy," the feet were again on the
rug, "we will be simply dead in the morning, and we have got to be
very much alive. We do miss the Weatherbee. I don't see why we let
her go. Dear, prim, prompt Weatherbee! Now we know we loved her. Her
successor is too young to be motherly."

"Jane Allen, you're a pest," groaned Judith. "I can't hear a thing
but words, and I suppose you are calling me names. Who's this guy
Bed, I heard you mention? Lead me to her," and whether the collapse
was assumed or real Judith rolled over twice and once more stretched
out on the long runner at Jane's feet.

"Have it your own way. Stay there if you insist and sneeze your head
off, but I'm going to bed," decided Jane helplessly.

"That's the girl. Her name is Bed. I want to meet her. Heard so much