Jane Allen: Junior | Page 5

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
about her. Jane dear introduce me, there's a dar--link," Judith muttered.
"Someone is coming and I just hope it is Prexy or Proxy. I'll open the
door wide as I can," declared the outraged Jane.
She stepped over the long girl but even the tap on the door did not
disturb Judith.
"It's I--are you up, Jane?" The voice came as the tap subsided.
"Yes Dozia. Come along in. I can't get Judy to bed. Just look at her!"
"Poor child," commiserated Dozia, surveying the figure on the floor
very much as a policeman looks upon an ambulance case. "We ought to
help her. Is the day bed translated?"
"Yes, I got it ready. But Judy won't undress," Jane protested.
"Why need she? If I ever slept like that I would murder a disturber. Just

get hold of that rug Janie, and we'll dump her into bed."
Judith was actually sleeping when the two compassionate friends
picked up the rug, hammock fashion, and proceeded to "dump her into
bed." She never moved voluntarily. Judith Stearns knew a good thing
when it came her way, and what could be better than this?
"She'll ruin her skirt," suggested Jane as they drew the rug out from
under the blue accordion pleats.
"What's a mere skirt compared with that?"
Dozia stood aside to admire the unconscious Judy, but striking a
statuesque pose she caught the critical eye of Jane and was rewarded
with a most complimentary smile.
"Where did you get that wonderful robe, Dozia?" Jane asked. "You
simply look like--like some notable personage in those soft folds and
with your hair down. What a pity we must make ourselves ugly to be
conventional."
"Ain't it now," mocked Dozia, abusing language to make comedy. She
swung the velveteen folds about her and spun around to wind them
tighter. "Like this? Do I resemble a movie queen? That's what brought
me, Janie. This nocturnal visit is consequent upon a disaster. My
hammer, the one I put my queens up with, fell through the mirror. Silly
little hammer. You know how this house staff feels about breaking
looking-glasses."
"Yes, spoils the set of course. You are not insinuating anyone here
might be superstitious? I am awfully sorry you broke the mirror. How
did it happen?"
"Sissh!" Dozia sibilated, pointing to Judith who had actually turned
over. "Don't wake her, this really is a secret. Girlie," dragging Jane
down into a chair, "have you noticed that ugly, fat, common country
girl, with the wire hair and gimlet eyes? Well, she came in, pushed her
way in really, and squatted down plumb in my best Sheraton chair. The

size of her!" (This with seething indignation.) "I was so provoked--why,
Jane, what is the matter? You are frightened or nervous or something.
Have you seen a ghost anywhere?" broke off Dozia.
"Oh no, but I am so tired," Jane edged away from the suspector. "After
all I do believe Judy is sensible, see her slumber."
"Jane Allen, you are a fraud," pronounced the girl in the velveteen robe.
"You are