"Don’t you think it’s a lot colder to-day?" asked Elaine of the company in general. Her tone was a little stiff, and Peggy, glancing in her direction, was surprised to see a flush of annoyance on her new friend’s face. Mrs. Marshall, too, had an air of having heard enough about this nocturnal intruder. It was necessary to change the subject promptly, especially as Amy and Priscilla seemed disposed to fall into an argument as to what Amy had really seen. "I haven’t asked you yet if you’d help in our Bazar, have I?" exclaimed Peggy, addressing Elaine. "It’s the tenth of this month. It was the tenth we decided on at last, wasn’t it, Ruth?" "Yes, the tenth," Ruth replied, and Priscilla took up the explanation. "It’s for the Empty Stocking Club. We buy dolls with the money we make, and dress them afterward." "And it’s an awful lot of fun," said Peggy. "Fun all the way, first making the things for the Bazar, and then the Bazar itself, and then buying the dolls and dressing them. And of course giving them to the children is the best fun of all." She looked at Elaine expectantly, but, to her surprise, Elaine hesitated. "My daughter would have been very glad to help you when our circumstances were different," said Mrs. Marshall, coming to Elaine’s assistance. "My family have always given largely to charity. Solicitors for philanthropic objects often said to my father, ’We like to come to you first, Mr. Elwell, because you always give so generously, and that inspires others.’ And Mr. Marshall, before his business reverses, thought nothing of writing a check for a hundred dollars for a worthy cause." "The trouble with me," said Elaine abruptly, "is that it is all I can do to help myself." She looked about the little circle, somewhat defiantly, and Peggy, who knew that this piece of confidence was not in the least like Elaine, felt a twinge of regret at having unintentionally forced her to make such an admission. "You don’t understand. Of course none of us can give big things," she explained hastily. "Now, last year, one of the best sellers at our Bazar was as simple as it could be, and it hardly cost anything. It was only a gingham belt, with two dangling tapes, and, at the end of each tape, a square of gingham padded for lifting things out of the oven. They really are the most convenient things; for, generally, when the cake’s ready to come out, you can’t find anything to lift it with, and so you take your apron, or else a dish towel. We sold them for twenty cents apiece and took orders for a lot more than we had ready." "And, sometimes, you can make a dear little work-bag out of pieces you have in the house," suggested Ruth. "I made a real pretty one last year: don’t you remember, Peggy? If I had piece of newspaper I could show you just how it was done. You can use scraps of silk and ribbon you wouldn’t think were good for anything."