It _was_ good; even in a community of skilful housewives, Mrs. Grey's cooking was famous. The dishes were tucked away in a big wash-tub till morning--an indulgence the Greys sometimes allowed themselves--and "the little busy B's bee," as the name was now abbreviated, ended with the girls nestled together on the steps, while the boys disposed of their length of limb lower down, and they sang again while the little July moon dipped down before them, and disappeared in the west, and the stars came out. Then Frances arose to go, and the Rutherford boys arose, too, to take her safely home, and then go their own ways. "We're no end grateful to you for giving us the very nicest party we ever went to," said Basil to Mrs. Grey as he bade her good-night. "Oh, as to that," Rob remarked, "one good cut deserves another." "Come as often as you like, my dears; we shall love to have you," said Mrs. Grey, who, on this second, longer seeing, had taken the Rutherfords quite into her motherly heart. "Did you have a good time, children?" she asked as the girls kissed her good-night, Oswyth last of all, as she always contrived to be. "Beautiful, Mardy," said Wythie. "I really think, as Basil said, it was as nice a party as I ever went to." "And I think they are glorious boys," said Prue. "I'm so glad we've found such nice new friends." "So am I; it's as fortunate for the three lassies as it is for the three lads," said Mrs. Grey. "And I am glad the grass is cut, you unpractical little girls, Mardy, Wythie, and Prudy, all three of you," said Rob, looking out with much satisfaction on the smooth lawn as she pulled down the shade and lighted her bedtime candle. CHAPTER THREE ITS MASTER The morning after the bee Oswyth was washing dishes and Prue was wiping them, while Roberta polished the stove, whistling in cheerful oblivion of the large polka-dot of blacking adorning her cheek. Mrs. Grey came in from the dining-room, which she had been brushing up, her dust-pan in one hand, her whisk-broom in the other, held straight out like parentheses, and said, without preliminary, out of her busy thoughts: "I don't see, dear girls, what we shall do this fall unless we have an extra hundred dollars. And still less do I see where we are to get even an extra five dollars. I have been lying awake nights contriving, but no suggestion comes. The coal money went to repair the roof, and bought the flour and other things--all necessities--but it must be made up, and I cannot see how. Besides, you need, each of you, warm coats this winter. I suppose Prue can wear Wythie's old one, but Wythie and Rob must have something." Prue made a wry face, but Rob cried: "Sufficient to the season is the coating thereof, Mardy. Winter coats don't appeal to me strongly this sultry morning." "Don't worry, Mardy; I am sure we can manage," said Wythie, lovingly. "But coal--well, I don't see how that can be dodged."