ing hands assisted her as she reached the lower rounds, then Cleo
followed, descending so quickly she reached the ground almost as soon
as did Mary.

It was a strange sight. All the girls in their pajamas. Grace had
secured an extra green jersey sweater. Madaline was garbed in the
lavender cape Cleo had discarded when she climbed through the window,
while Mary stood like a statue, in her clinging white, with Cleo beside
her, looking as if she had stepped out of a comic opera in her blue
bird pajamas. But the audience was unresponsive.

Michael, the dignified, was too busy to notice costumes. Jennie had
troubles of her own with her quickly arranged attire, and Mrs. Dunbar
was far more concerned with the whole situation than to take any notice
of its special, striking effect.

"Oh, what was it?" Mary murmured, rubbing her hand across her head as
if in pain. "I thought Reda called. She said Grandie wanted me, and I
hurried to her!"

"You likely did hear a call," said Mrs. Dunbar, "but it may have been
our pet owl. Come, let us all get inside. Isn't it fortunate no one
was hurt? Cleo, however did you get out on that tree without shocking
Mary from her perch?"

But Cleo had observed she, of ail the group, was alone in a real pajama
outfit, and consequently took herself off promptly to more secluded
quarters, and was then not at hand to answer for her courage.

It was almost an hour before the excitement had sufficiently abated to
permit thoughts of returning to bed, and then it was arranged that all
four girls should pile into the room with the twin beds, while Mrs.
Dunbar's room was thrown open between, by rolling back the folding
doors.

Such chattering, such gabbing and such giggling! Naturally the night's
experience was entitled to a thorough review, and it must be said the
girls did the subject full justice.

Mary, however, was inclined to be taciturn. Every now and then her
eyes would "shoot," as Grace called the queer expression, and when the
lights were still on, and this peculiar look could be noticed, her
friends made no apology for their good natured remonstrance.

"Here, now, Mary!" Grace would then call. "Don't you dare go off
walking trees in your sleep again. This was a wonderful night,
but--let's call it a day."

"One night of this kind is a regular week," Cleo added, "and I vote we
make this very minute the end of a perfect day."

It really was "a lot of fun" to be all tucked into