These good children had no one to suspect them, and all went smoothly; in short, the wheels of the house machinery never seemed more admirably oiled. True, had any one listened very closely there might have been heard the stealthy sound of shoeless feet ascending the rickety step-ladder which led to the large front garret. Shoeless feet going up and down many, many times. Trays, too, of precious crockery were carried up, baskets piled with evergreens and flowers were conveyed thither, the linen cupboard was ruthlessly rifled for snowy tablecloths and table napkins of all descriptions. Then later in the day a certain savory smell might have been perceived by any very suspicious person just along this special passage and up that dusty old ladder. For hot bread and hot pastry and hot cakes were being conveyed to the attic, and the sober twins themselves fetched the cream from the farm, and the ginger beer from the grocer's. No one was about, however, to suspect, or to tell tales if they did suspect. Helen came home about seven o'clock, rather tired, and very much interested in her purchases, to find a cozy tea awaiting her, and Polly anxious to serve her. The twin girls were supposed to be learning their lessons in the school-room, Katie was nowhere to be seen, and Helen remarked casually that she supposed the young ones had gone to bed. "Oh, yes," said Polly, in her quickest manner. She turned her back as she spoke, and the blush which mantled her brown face was partly hidden by her curly dark hair. "I am very hungry," said Helen. "Really, Polly, you are turning out an excellent housekeeper--what a nice tea you have prepared for me. How delicious these hot cakes are! I never thought, Poll, you would make such a good cook and manager, and to think of your giving us such delicious meals on so little money. But you are eating nothing yourself, love, and how hot your cheeks are!" "Cooking is hot work, and takes away the appetite," said Polly. She was listening in agony that moment, for over Helen's head certain stealthy steps were creeping; they were the steps of children, leaving their snug beds, and gliding as quietly as possible in the direction of the savory smells and the dusty ladder and the large dirty, spidery--but oh, how romantic, how fascinating--front attic. Never before did Polly realize how many creaky boards there were in the house; oh, surely Helen would observe those steps; but, no, she cracked her egg tranquilly, and sipped her tea, and talked in her pleasantest way of Polly's excellent cooking, and of her day's adventures.