"I wouldn't have cared if she had sent me. I'd rather come to an issue with the Empress anytime than with Miss Baylis. But the whole thing was funny as the mischief," answered Beverly from her big wicker chair. "Let's make some fudge. I've got the needfuls, and it will sweeten our tempers. Such things make me cross for hours. We don't indulge in petty squabbles at home. Mother would be disgusted if she knew of some of the things which take place here, and father would say there was something wrong with the gasoline. He's just bought a new car so his metaphors are apt to be gasoliney," laughed Aileen. "What will you make the fudge in? You let Hope MacLeod have the chafing dish." Aileen looked daunted for a moment. Then her face lighted. "I've a tin pail. I can make it in that." "But _how_? You can't boil it without the lamp." "Can't I? Just you watch me do it." Aileen was resourceful. In a few minutes she had the mixture in her pail, and the pail swinging by a string over the gas jet. Leslie Manor was quite up-to-date. It had gas as well as electricity, though gas was not supposed to be used excepting in cases of emergency. Once or twice the electric current had failed. Aileen had fastened the string from one side of the room to the other on a couple of picture hooks. A none too secure support. Then all three sat down to wait until the fudge gave signs of boiling and promptly became absorbed in a new interest, the Easter vacation. In the midst of the conversation, Beverly paused. She had suddenly remembered Petty's note. "What's the matter?" asked Sally. "I've forgotten something," she answered, scrambling from her chair and crossing to her desk for her history. She would take the note back to Petty. It was utter nonsense of course, but it was Petty's and if she was pleased with such nonsense, she was welcome to it. She looked hurriedly through the book. The note was not in it. Where could she have dropped it? No, she had not dropped it, of that she was certain. She had taken pains to keep the book tightly closed. She meant to have given the note to Petty directly after luncheon. How provoking! Maybe Petty had seen her catch it up and had come for it herself. She would go and ask her. As she turned to make her intention known to the others there was a snap overhead. The heat had burned Aileen's string before the fudge had begun to boil and pail and contents descended upon the study table with a rattle and splash, the hot mass scattering in every direction. For the ensuing half hour the three girls had their hands full and Petty, notes, history examination and all minor affairs were forgotten. CHAPTER XIV COMPLICATIONS But Petty had _not_ taken the note from Beverly's history. It had been removed by quite a different person. In fact about the last one either Beverly or Petty would have dreamed of. But of this a little later.