"I'd love to have you do that, Mopsy Midget; in fact, I can scarcely wait till morning to hear about it all. But it is my duty as a stern parent to order you off to bed at once. Little girls that wheedle fond fathers into letting them go to evening parties must be content to scoot for bed the minute they get home." "All right, then, Father, but do get up early in the morning to hear all about it, won't you?" "I'll guarantee to get up as early as you do, Sleepyhead," said Mr. Maynard, for Marjorie was yawning as if the top of her head was about to come off. Mrs. Maynard accompanied the little girl to her bedroom, but Midge was too tired to do more than tell her mother that it was the most beautiful party in the world, and that next day she should hear all about it. "I can wait, little girl," said Mrs. Maynard, as she tucked Midget up and kissed her good-night, but the exhausted child was already in the land of dreams. CHAPTER XII TOTTY AND DOTTY "Marjorie," said her mother, one Saturday morning, "I expect Mrs. Harrison to spend the day. She will bring her little baby with her, and I want you to stay at home, so that you can wheel the baby about if she asks you to do so." "I will, Mother. The Jinks Club meets here this afternoon anyway, and this morning I'll stay at home. Can't I ask Gladys to come over? We'd love to take care of the baby together." "Yes, have Gladys if you like. I don't mind." Mrs. Maynard went off to look after housekeeping affairs, and Marjorie ran over to ask Gladys to come and spend the morning. The two girls were sitting on a bench under a tree on the front lawn, when they saw Mrs. Harrison come in at the gate. She was wheeling her baby-carriage, and Marjorie ran to meet her. "How do you do, Mrs. Harrison?" she said. "Mother is expecting you. Come right on up to the house. Mayn't I wheel Baby for you?" "I wish you would, my dear. I gave nurse a holiday, but I didn't realize how tiresome that heavy carriage is, after wheeling it so many blocks." Marjorie pushed the little coach, while Gladys danced alongside, talking to the winsome baby. "What's her name, Mrs. Harrison?" she said. "Oh!" replied the young mother, "she has the dignified name of Katharine, but we never call her that. I'm ashamed to say we call her Totty." "I think Totty is a lovely name," said Midget. "It makes me think of Dotty, a baby who lives about a block away from us. She's just the same size as this baby." "Probably she's older, then," said Mrs. Harrison, complacently; "Totty's just a year old, but she's much larger than most children of that age." "Yes, I suppose so," said Midget, wagging her head wisely, though she really knew little about the comparative sizes of infants. Mrs. Maynard awaited them at the front door, and the procession arrived with a flourish. "Here we are, Mother," announced Marjorie, and she and Gladys lifted baby Totty out of her nest of pillows and knit afghans.