Gladys was waiting at her own gate, and off they went to the hall. Of course, the customers hadn't yet arrived, but soon after Marjorie had taken her place inside the booth, the people began to flock to the fair. Miss Merington looked lovely in a violet crepe-de-chine gown, which just suited her exquisite complexion and golden hair. She greeted Marjorie as a companion and fellow-worker, and Midge resolved to do her best to please the lovely lady. Somehow there seemed to be a great deal to do. As the afternoon wore on the M booth had a great many customers, and Miss Merington was kept so busy that Marjorie had to be on the alert to assist her. She made change; she answered the customers' questions; and sometimes she had to go to the department of supplies for wrapping paper, string, and such things. She was very happy, for Marjorie dearly loved a bustle of excitement, and the Bazaar was a gay place. After a time old Mr. Abercrombie came to the M booth. Marjorie hadn't forgotten the day they rode behind his sleigh, and she wondered if he would buy anything from her. He looked at her quizzically through his big glasses, and said: "Well, well, little girl, and what have you for sale? Old gentlemen like myself are fond of sweet things, you know. Have you any sweet cakes?" "Yes, sir," said Marjorie, and as Miss Merington was occupied with other customers she felt justified in trying to make a sale herself. "Yes, sir; we have these very nice cocoanut macaroons." "Ah, yes; and how do you know they're nice? You must never make a statement unless you're sure." "Oh, but I am sure," said Marjorie, very earnestly. "Ellen, our cook, made them, and she's a very superior cook. I know she is, because my mother says so. And, besides, I know these are good because I've had some of them myself." "You've proved your case," said the old gentleman. "But now I'll catch you! I'll buy your whole stock of macaroons if----" "If what, sir?" said Marjorie, breathlessly, for his suggestion meant a large sale, indeed. "If you can spell macaroons," was the unexpected reply. "Oh!" Marjorie gave a little gasp of dismay, for she had never had the word in her spelling lessons, and she didn't remember ever seeing it in print. "May I think a minute?" she asked. "Yes," said Mr. Abercrombie, taking out his watch; "but just a minute, no more." This embarrassed Marjorie a little, but she was determined to win if possible, so she set her wits to work. It was confusing, for she was uncertain whether to say double c or double r, or whether both those letters were single. Then, like a flash, came to her mind the way her father had taught her to spell _macaroni_. The words _might_ not be alike, but more likely they were, so before the minute had elapsed, she said, bravely: "M-a-c-a-r-double o-n-s." "Good for you!" cried Mr. Abercrombie. "You're a smart little girl, and a good speller. I'll take all the macaroons you have."