not—even though she kept her eyes closed tightly, she could not. Something was forcing her to awaken—something in the room. It was a sense of light, and a sound—the sound of a crackling, roaring little fire.
“Oh, I am awakening,” she said mournfully. “I can’t help it—I can’t.”
Her eyes opened in spite of herself. And then she actually smiled—for what she saw she had never seen in the attic before, and knew she never should see.
“Oh, I HAVEN’T awakened,” she whispered, daring to rise on her elbow
then came Lilian Evangeline Maud Marion, Rosalind Gladys, Guy Clarence, Veronica Eustacia, and Claude Harold Hector.
One evening a very funny thing happened—though, perhaps, in one sense it was not a funny thing at all.
Several of the Montmorencys were evidently going to a children’s party, and just