ever," declared Nora cruelly. "You say
you have lost ten pounds, but--" she shrugged her shoulders
significantly.

"Cruel, cruel," moaned Hippy. "It is sad to see such calloused
inhumanity in one so young. Pass me the cakes, Anne, the chocolate
covered ones. They, at least, will afford me sweet consolation."

"I object," interposed Reddy Brooks. "Don't give him that plate. Hand
him one or two, Anne. I like the looks of those cakes, too."

"Man, do you mean to insinuate that I am not what I seem?" demanded
Hippy, glaring belligerently at Reddy.

"No, I am stating plainly that you are exactly what you seem. That's why
I am looking out for my share of the cakes."

"Always prompted by selfish motives," deplored Hippy. "How thankful I am
that the sweet blossom of unselfishness blooms freely in my heart. It is
true that I would eat all the cakes on that plate, but from a purely
unselfish motive."

"Let's hear the motive," jeered Tom Gray.

"I would eat them all," replied Hippy gently, favoring the company with
one of his famously wide smiles, "to save you, my beloved friends, from
indigestion. It is better that I should bear your suffering."

"Thank you," retorted David Nesbit dryly, helping himself to the coveted
cakes and passing the plate over Hippy's head to Mrs. Gray, "I prefer to
do my own suffering."

"Oh, as you like," returned Hippy airily. "I have always been fonder of
Mrs. Gray than I can say." He sidled ingratiatingly toward where Mrs.
Gray sat, her cheeks pink with the excitement of having her Christmas
children with her.

From the time Grace, Miriam and Anne stepped off the train into the
waiting arms of their dear ones, their vacation had been a season of
continued rejoicing. Mrs. Gray, who, Tom gravely declared, would
celebrate her twenty-fifth birthday next April, was tireless in her
efforts to make their brief stay in Oakdale a happy one. On Christmas
night she had gathered them in and given them a dinner and a tree. She
had also given a luncheon in honor of Anne and a large party on New
Year's night. It was now the evening after New Year's and the morning
train would take the boys back to college. Grace, Miriam and Anne would
leave a day later for Overton. Nora and Jessica were to remain in
Oakdale until the following week. It seemed only natural that they
should spend their last evening together at the home of their old
friend. Outside the "Eight Originals," Miriam had been the only one
invite