"We don’t care to buy anything this morning," said the girl, and made a movement as if to close the door. Peggy’s face flamed to the roots of her hair. "O, you don’t understand," she cried. "I’m a neighbor of yours. I’ve brought you over a plate of cinnamon rolls, I’ve just finished baking. They’re not for sale." Elaine was a rather pale girl. But as Peggy finished her little speech, two spots of red showed in the other’s thin cheeks. "We’re not objects of charity, thank you," she said. The door shut with a slam. Peggy, her rejected offering in her hand, stood bewildered on the step. For a moment she battled with the temptation to push open the door and force the girl inside to listen to reason. With a choked laugh, that covered not a little humiliation, she realized the folly of such a proceeding and turned away. Peggy’s eyes were absent as she entered the house. She took the second pan of rolls from the oven without feeling any disposition to gloat over their yellow-brown perfection. Then, remembering her promise to Dick and Dorothy, she put some of the rolls on a plate and carried them into the next room. Her thoughts were still full of the rebuff she had received from her new neighbor, and when she had set the plate of rolls on the table she stood with clasped hands, looking hard at nothing in particular, and frowning over her reflections. "How glad she is to see us!" "Yes, just notice her smile." "Probably those are city manners, girls. We’ll have to get used to it." A volley of mocking laughter followed these observations, and Peggy started guiltily. "I didn’t see you," she apologized, as three girls popped up from the window-seat and approached her. "Don’t try to get out of it, Peggy," teased Priscilla, slipping her arm about Peggy’s waist. "You know you can’t be glad to see us with such a face." "O, Peggy! What delicious rolls!" Amy hung over the plate with an ecstatic gasp. "Don’t they look as if they’d melt in your mouth." "Help yourself," Peggy cried. "All of you." "They’ll make you fat, Amy," warned Ruth, extending a slim hand. "Priscilla and I can eat all we want, but you’ll have to refuse. You know you’re going to leave off eating candy." "Well, they’re not candy, and, besides, I’d rather gain a few ounces than turn down such darlings," Amy replied recklessly. Suiting the action to the word she set her teeth in the golden-brown crust. "They’re as good as they look," she announced indistinctly. "Say, Peggy, are these the kind you took over to the house next door? Dick said that was what you went out for." Peggy nodded, her face betraying the peculiarly guilty expression that sensitive people wear when fearing that they will be forced to betray the wrongdoing of someone else. Priscilla eyed her suspiciously. "Well, I don’t see that there could have been a nicer introduction," Amy remarked with her mouth full. "How lovely it would be if all callers brought cinnamon rolls instead of visiting cards."