“They won’t be awake.”

“Of course they won’t; that’s the fun of it!  We’ll throw little pebbles up at their windows, and wake them up, and make them come out.”

“Well, all right, I will.”  Kitty reached this decision after a few moments’ consideration, as Marjorie felt sure she would.  Kitty usually agreed to her older sister’s plans, but she made up her mind slowly, while Midget always reached her conclusions with a hop, skip, and jump.

So the girls began to dress, and in a very few minutes they were buttoning each other’s frocks and tying each other’s hair ribbons.

Marjorie had invented a way by which they could tie each other’s hair ribbons at the same time, but as it oftenest resulted in pulled hair and badly made bows, it was not much of a time-saver after all.

“But I do think, Kit,” she said, “being in such haste this morning, we might manage to button each other’s dresses at the same time.  Stand back to back and let’s try.”

The trial was a decided failure, and resulted only in a frolic, after which the buttoning was done separately and successfully.

“And anyway, we’re not in such a hurry,” commented Kitty, “and don’t ever try that stunt again, Mopsy.  My arms are nearly twisted off!”

“All right, Kit, I won’t.  Now are you ready?  Come on; don’t make any noise; we don’t want to wake anybody.”

They tiptoed downstairs, and as a greater precaution against waking the sleeping grownups, they went through the kitchen, and out at the back door, which they easily unbolted from the inside.

“We’ll have to leave this door unfastened,” said Marjorie.  “I hope no burglars will get in.”

“Of course they won’t; burglars never come around after sunrise.  Oh, isn’t it lovely to smell the fresh morningness!”

Kitty stood still, and sniffed the clear, crisp air, while the exhilarating effects of the atmosphere caused Marjorie to dance and prance in circles round her quieter sister.

“When you’ve sniffed enough, come on, Kit,” she said, dancing away toward Stella’s house.

Kitty came on, and soon they stood on the greensward directly beneath Stella’s bedroom window.

The morning was very still, and the Martins’ house looked forbidding, with its silent, closed-up air.  It was not yet half-past five, and not even the servants were stirring.

Marjorie’s courage failed her.  “I guess we won’t try Stella first,” she whispered to Kitty.  “Stella’s so scary.  Once I just said ‘boo’ at her, and she cried like fury.  If we fire pebbles at her window, like as not she’ll think it’s a burglar and have yelling hysterics.”

“Burglars don’t throw pebbles to wake people up.”

“Well, Stella’s just as likely to think they do.  You never can tell what Stella’s going to think, or what she’s going to do, either.  Anyway, let’s go to Molly’s first; you can’t scare her.”