“And now you must put the batter into a bright cake pan, perfectly dry, and bake fifty minutes in a slow oven.” “But how can I tell whether the oven is slow or quick?” he asked. “That is something beyond your comprehension. One of the things out of your reach, you know.” “Ah, I see! I confess I have my limitations. But what is the name of this snowy creation? Didn’t I hear Mrs. Wylie speak of angels?” “Certainly! This is angel’s food.” “Ah! Food for angels, or made by them? Which?” “Neither. It is of the earth, earthy. Even you can safely eat it.” But Donald was watching the graceful contour of the dimpled elbow beneath the uprolled sleeve, and did not for a moment respond to her retort. “Yes—ah—what is it?” he asked, recalling himself. Tibby’s pink chin was elevated. “Shakespeare never repeats,” she said sententiously. “But you are not Shakespeare.” “Well, I’m nearly the same thing. I’m bakin’,” she said with a giggle. “O, you’re too bad! Such a pun as that is atrocious! Bacon? Oh!” And Donald sank back in his chair and made a feint of fanning himself. “I’m struck all in a heap.” “Well, when young men are so impolite one feels like throwing puns, or any handy weapon, at their heads. I may take the rolling pin next,” said Tibby. “Really, Miss Tibby, I beg your pardon for my inattention, but the fact is, I was following a train of thought which was—” “Composed of empty cars,” put in Tibby. “No, I assure you, heavily freighted.” “Indeed!” with an exasperating lifting of the brows. “No doubt you were reflecting upon your past misdeeds.” “I was thinking of you.” “Then your thoughts were not worth questioning. Your train was surely overloaded. To punish you, I shall bid you adieu, and go to get ready for my ride,” replied Tibby, with a severe tightening of her pretty lips, as she went over to the sink and began to wash the dusting of flour from her arms and hands. “I suppose you do not intend to invite me to ride with you,” Donald remarked tentatively. “No, indeed. You might take cold. And besides you prophesied a storm.” “If you should be caught out in a blizzard I might be of some help to you.” Tibby turned and faced him, her mischievous, glowing eyes holding his. “You?” she said. “Yes, even I.” “But if I don’t want you along?” “I shall meekly stay at home, of course. But it strikes me you are extremely unkind.” “Not to myself. Besides, I do not want you to run into danger. See?” She gave him a sidelong glance from the corner of her eyes. “Mr. Bartram, I am going to ride and meditate all by myself to-day.” “If I withdrew to a safe distance couldn’t you meditate at home?” Donald looked through half-closed lids at the mocking eyes and pouting lips before him. “There is nothing like a canter over the prairies to aid one’s meditation.” “I wish I could persuade you to stay at home to-day. You are certainly taking a great risk in going, at least in going so far.” “It is my risk. No one else need worry about it.”