“To be sure, I had forgotten. And the Phillips boys came that first holiday. Oh, yes, and that friend of yours, Mr. Danforth.” And Nettie gave Patty a little knowing look which Persis did not see. “Dear me!” exclaimed Nettie, suddenly, after they had returned from their shopping expedition. “I don’t know what to make the candy in. I hate to bother Mrs. Scott to loan me anything.” “Take that big flower-pot,—the yellow one over there,” Persis suggested. “It will make an excellent bowl.” “Sure enough; and let me see—we’ll just use sheets of white paper to spread the candies on. I’ll have to light my lamp, for I want to melt the chocolate over the gas. How will I do it?” “Can’t you set your hot-water kettle on the little gas-stove, or whatever it is, and put the chocolate in that mug? It will fit in the top of the kettle, won’t it?” Persis was always ready with expedients. “That will do exactly. Now we’re all right.” For an hour or two the girls chattered away, stirring, tasting, and patting into shape their confections until they were tired out. “Goodness, Nettie,” exclaimed Persis, viewing their work. “I don’t see why we made such a lot. We’ll never get all this stuff eaten up before it gets stale.” “What a remark to make in a community that boasts of four hundred girls, each possessing her own special sweet tooth!” rejoined Nettie. “Oh, well, if you are going to scatter them broadcast, all right,” Persis returned, sitting on the floor and hugging her knees. “What are you doing now?” For Nettie was packing away an assortment of the candies in little boxes which she had fished out from the lower part of her washstand. “Oh, I’m just disposing of these,” replied Nettie, nonchalantly. “What time is it, girls?” Patty glanced at the small clock ticking away on the dressing-table. “Ten o’clock! who would believe it! I’m going to bed. You know I was always a regular sleepy-head. Mother says that’s why I’m such a roly-poly. I sleep so soundly.” “Do you sleep soundly?” And Nettie smiled. “Yes.” “Then leave your door open. Perse and I may want to call you if we are ill from overeating.” Patty laughed, and the girls proceeded to prepare for bed. They were a long time about it, however, and it was nearly eleven before their heads were on their pillows. It seemed to Persis that she had only travelled half-way to Slumberland, and sweet sounds were already weaving themselves into her dreams, when she was awakened by a whisper from Nettie. “Listen, Persis.” “Hm?” said Persis, drowsily, for she could not detach the music from her consciousness. Nettie gave her a little shake. “Come, get up,” she said. “What for?” “We must waken Patty.” “Why?” “Don’t you hear? Why, we are being serenaded.” At this, Persis sat bolt upright, and realized that “Nellie was a lady,” was being sung by a quartette of manly young voices just below the window.