"It's a shame to touch them," objected Irene. "But we want some cake," announced Betty and Sylvia. "Go on, give a good puff!" prompted Marjorie. "Then we can count how many you've blown out. Five! This year, next year, some time, never! This year! Goody! You'll have to be quick about it. It's almost time to be putting up the banns. Now again. Tinker, tailor, soldier! Lucky you! My plum stones generally give me beggar-man or thief. Silk, satin, muslin, rags; silk, satin! You've got all the luck to-night. Coach, carriage! You're not blowing fair, Renie! You did that on purpose so that it shouldn't come wheelbarrow! Only one candle left--let's leave it lighted while we cut the rest." Everybody agreed that the cake was delicious. They felt they had never tasted a better in their lives, although it was a specimen of war-time cookery. "I wish we could have got some cocoa," sighed Betty. "I tried to borrow a little and a spirit lamp from Meg Hutchinson, but she says they can't get any methylated spirit now." "Condensed milk is delicious by itself," suggested Sylvia. "Sorry we haven't a spoon," apologized Marjorie. For lack of other means of getting at their sweet delicacy the girls dipped lead-pencils into the condensed milk and took what they could. "It's rather like white honey," decided Betty after a critical taste. "Yes--I certainly think it's quite topping. It makes me think of Russian toffee." "Don't speak of toffee. We haven't made any since sugar went short. Jemima! I shall eat heaps when the war's over!" "You greedy pig! You ought to leave it for the soldiers." "But there won't be any soldiers then." "Yes, there'll be some for years and years afterwards. They'll take some time, you know, to get well in the hospitals." "Then there's a chance for me to nurse," exclaimed Marjorie. "I'm always so afraid the war will all be over before I've left school, and----" "I say, what's that noise?" interrupted Irene anxiously. "If the Acid Drop drops on us she'll be very acid indeed." For reply, Marjorie popped the condensed milk tin into her wardrobe, blew out the candle, and hopped into bed post-haste, an example which was followed by the others with equal dispatch. They were only just in time, for a moment later the door opened, and Miss Norton, clad in a blue dressing-gown, flashed her torchlight into the room. Seeing the girls all in bed, and apparently fast asleep, she did not enter, but closed the door softly, and they heard her footsteps walking away down the corridor. "A near shave!" murmured Marjorie. "Sh! sh! Don't let's talk. She may come back and listen outside," whispered Sylvia, with a keen distrust for Miss Norton's notions of vigilance. Next morning the girls in No. 8 Dormitory mentioned that they had heard a noise during the night. "Somebody walked down the passage," proclaimed Lennie Jackson. "Enid thought it was a ghost." "I thought it was somebody walking in her sleep," maintained Daisy Shaw.