"There you are," she announced triumphantly, after an interval during which the girls had watched with eager eyes and bated breath. "That was a mean one. Thought it was going to make me rip out the whole row--but I showed it! Now, please, don't anybody drop any more. I must finish that pair of socks to-day." "Oh, dear," sighed Amy resignedly. "Then our last hope is gone." "Goodness, that sounds doleful," chuckled Betty, stretching her arms above her head and reveling in the brilliant sunshine. "What particular thing seems to be the matter now, Amy? Has Will been misbehaving?" Amy flushed vividly and bent closer over her work. "How could he be when he's been in town for over a week?" she retorted with unusual spirit. "It's just that nobody will read the paper, and I'm just dying to hear the news. I want to keep up with the times." "Well, if that's all," said the Little Captain, sitting up with alacrity, "I'm always willing to oblige. Mollie, you're sitting on it!" "Knit one, purl two," chanted Mollie. "Wait till I get this needle off and I'll give it to you. I can't stop now!" "All right, then I'm going to get my knitting." Betty made as though to rise but Amy held her down and turned despairingly to Mollie. "Mollie," she pleaded, "be reasonable. You know very well that if Betty ever gets started with her knitting then nobody'll read the news." "Knit one, purl two, knit one, purl two," sang Mollie imperturbably. "There, now, isn't that beautiful?" She sprang from the seat and whirled around upon them, holding up the almost-finished sweater for their inspection. "Isn't it beautiful?" she repeated enthusiastically. "Of course," said Grace, dryly, while Betty deftly grabbed the paper. "It's the most beautiful and most curious thing I ever laid eyes on. It isn't as though," she added, with biting sarcasm, "I had seen hundreds just like it within the last month or two--" "Oh, you can't make me mad," said Mollie, settling down with energy to the final finishing. "You're just jealous, that's all, and the more you turn up your nose, the more you show your real feelings." "Oh, is that so?" retorted Grace, reaching out for the candy box for the twentieth time that morning. "Well, as my kind of nose has never, under any circumstances whatsoever, been known to turn up--" "Oh, do stop chattering," Mollie interrupted heartlessly. "Who cares what kind of noses we've got? Go ahead, Betty, you'd better get started before Grace gets to quarreling on the subject of eyelashes or something." "I never quarreled with my eyelashes," said Grace haughtily. "I leave that to other people." "My, isn't she conceited!" chuckled Betty. "Now I'm going to read," she added, letting her eyes rest upon the glaring headlines of the first page. "If you want to listen, all right; and if you want to talk about sweaters and eyelashes--" "Oh, Betty, do go on," sighed Amy. "We've been waiting so long."