Beezus. “If you want, you can get in bed

with me.”

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“We better leave lights on for Daddy.”

Ramona turned on the porch light, as well

as all the lights in the living room and hall, before she climbed into her sister’s bed.

“So Daddy won’t fall over anything,” she

explained.

“Good idea,” agreed Beezus. Each sister

knew the other felt safer with the lights on.

“I hope Algie will hurry,” said Ramona.

“So do I,” agreed Beezus.

The girls slept lightly until the sound of a key in the door awoke them. “Daddy?”

Beezus called out.

“Yes.” Mr. Quimby came down the hall

to the door of Beezus’s room.“Great news.

Roberta Day Quimby, six pounds, four

ounces, arrived safe and sound.Your mother is fine.”

Barely awake, Ramona asked, “Who’s

Roberta?”

“Your new sister,” answered her father,

“and my namesake.”

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“Sister.” Now Ramona was wide-awake.

The family had referred to the baby as Algie so long she had assumed that of course she would have a brother.

“Yes, a beautiful little sister,” said her father.

“Now, go back to sleep. It’s four o’clock in the morning, and I’ve got to get up at seven-thirty.”

The next morning, Mr. Quimby over-

slept and ate his breakfast standing up. He was halfway out the door when he called back,

“When I get off work, we’ll have dinner at the Whopperburger, and then we’ll all go see Roberta and your mother.”

The day was long and lonely. Even a swim-

ming lesson at the park and a trip to the

library did little to make time pass.“I wonder what Roberta looks like,” said Beezus.

“And whose room she will share when she

outgrows the bassinette,” worried Ramona.

The one happy moment in the day for

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the girls was a telephone call from their mother, who reported that Roberta was a

beautiful, healthy little sister. She couldn’t wait to bring her home, and she was proud

of her daughters for being so good about

staying alone. This pleased Beezus and

Ramona so much they ran the vacuum

cleaner and dusted, which made time pass

faster until their father, looking exhausted, came home to take them out for hamburgers

and a visit to the fifth Quimby.

Ramona could feel her heart pounding as

she finally climbed the steps to the hospital.

Visitors, some carrying flowers and others looking careworn, walked toward the elevators. Nurses hurried, a doctor was paged

over the loudspeaker. Ramona could

scarcely bear her own excitement. The

rising of the elevator made her stomach feel as if it had stayed behind on the first floor.

When the elevator stopped, Mr. Quimby led

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the way down the hall.

“Excuse me,” called a nurse.

Surprised, the family stopped and turned.

“Children under twelve are not allowed

to visit the maternity ward,” said the nurse.

“Little girl, you will have to go down and wait in the lobby.”