he boys left to their own resources.

It was after all this that Dorothy and Tavia gave their personal views of
the two young men from college.

"They may help along our charity play," suggested Dorothy. "They look as
if they might be able to act, especially Mr. Jennings."

"Yes, I fancy he could act some parts--a big part with a whole lot of
sitting down in it," said Tavia.

"And Mr. Scott might be something on the Christmas tree," returned
Dorothy. "In a pretty, striped dress he would make a dear little
cornucopia, his blond head sticking out of the top like a sweet little
doll."

"I'm just going to tell him that," threatened Tavia. "Then I will be more
sure than ever of--his attention."

"Tavia! you wouldn't do anything like that!"

"Why not? You were only complimenting him."

"Now, really, if you do, Tavia, I shall be positively angry," and Dorothy
frowned indignantly. "When we are exchanging confidences I don't think it
fair to betray them."

"Oh, all right, if you feel that way about it. But I really do think
these two boys quite an acquisition. They will help out wonderfully."

"But college boys are old enough to be engaged," said Dorothy, "and
perhaps we will get no more of their attention than was bestowed upon us
to-day," and she made a wry face to express her fears on that score.

"Engaged! All the more fun. I just simply love to make girls jealous. Now,
what girl on earth would be able to hold her admirers against you?"

"Don't be silly!" snapped Dorothy. "It's all very well to joke, but when
you get personal--"

"Oh, I beg your pardon! And there's Aunt Winnie. I promised to line the
darning bag--"

Tavia's love for idleness was no hidden sin--she seemed to glory in it.
But occasionally it betrayed her good intentions. She really did intend to
put the pretty blue lining in the dainty darning bag which Mrs. White was
making as a gift for old Mrs. Brown, the family mender. Now the chatter
about the college boys had completely driven the task from her mind.

As Mrs. White appeared in the hall Tavia grasped the neglected little
article. Dorothy had been sewing as she talked. She loved to do certain
kinds of stitches, particularly those of floss silk on fine flannel, and
this morning she had almost finished the shawl for John's wife's new baby.

Mrs. White had been out, and was just returning. She wore her handsome
prune-colored gown, with her mink-tail furs, and both Dorothy and Tavia
looked u