Ellen looked ready to cry. After all her efforts, to have such a thing happen was too much. Lucilena stood, arms akimbo, head one side, looking down at the freezer as if she expected a genie to appear and set things right. Ellen, with clasped hands, gazed pleadingly at Mrs. Todd, who looked aloft as she spatted her hands together thoughtfully. Mrs. Hale shook her head mournfully at Lucilena. Presently Mrs. Todd thought of the remedy. “Put the cover back on the freezer, Lucilena,” she ordered. “We can serve it with chocolate sauce and no one will know the difference. It won’t take long to make it. I’ll run over home and get the chocolate; I have plenty.” She hurried off. Ellen breathed a sigh of relief. This was a way out, but again came a difficulty when Caro said: “But every one doesn’t like chocolate sauce. I know my father doesn’t.” “Oh!” Ellen again clasped her hands in dismay. But here Mrs. Hale, inspired by Mrs. Todd, came to the rescue. “Don’t worry, Ellen,” she said; “we can have strawberry sauce, too, for those that don’t care for the chocolate. Run over, Lucilena, and get that box of strawberries out of the refrigerator.” “Oh, but I don’t like to take your strawberries,” protested Ellen. “It’s up to me to do what I can to correct the mistake,” declared Mrs. Hale. “We can have some other kind of fruit for breakfast as well as not. For my own part I’ll enjoy the berries much more with the ice-cream.” Mrs. Todd was back in no time with the chocolate, and following her came Lucilena, the box of berries in one hand, and sleepy Billy slung over her shoulder. “He jes’ cryin’ pitably,” she explained, “t’arin’ his mouf open an’ yellin’, ‘Daddy, Daddy! dey ain’t nobody here to tek keer o’ me but angels, and it’s too dark to see ’em.’” “The little dear,” murmured Ellen, as she carried the child to his mother, who cuddled and comforted him, though, with so many to take care of him, he was soon broad awake and clamoring for ice-cream. While Mrs. Todd was busy making the chocolate sauce the girls prepared the strawberries, and before long everything was ready, the delay being scarcely noticed by the guests. Then the girls scurried to the front with plates and doilies, these last borrowed from Mrs. Hale, and the ice-cream was served, praised, and consumed without the least suspicion that in its original form it lacked flavor. Most of the cakes were delicious, though, to her mortification, Miss Sophia Bennett’s was found to be “sad,” and was set aside. Nobody missed it, however, for there was an abundance without it.