rgaret's chances looked
a little foggy; but we hadn't quite given up hope. A very little thing
might sway Aunt Susanna one way or the other, so that we walked very
softly and tried to mingle serpents' wisdom and doves' harmlessness in
practical portions.

When Aunt Susanna came in Laura was crocheting, Kate was sewing, and I
was poring over a recipe book. That was not deception at all, since we
did all these things frequently--much more frequently, in fact, than
we painted or fiddled or wrote. But Aunt Susanna would never believe
it. Nor did she believe it now.

She threw back her lovely new sealskin cape, looked around the
sitting-room and then smiled--a truly Aunt Susannian smile.

[Illustration]

"What a pity you forgot to wipe that smudge of paint off your nose,
Laura," she said sarcastically. "You don't seem to get on very fast
with your lace. How long is it since you began it? Over three months,
isn't it?"

"This is the third piece of the same pattern I've done in three
months, Aunt Susanna," said Laura presently. Laura is an old duck. She
never gets cross and snaps back. I do; and it's so hard not to with
Aunt Susanna sometimes. But I generally manage it for I'd do anything
for Margaret. Laura did not tell Aunt Susanna that she sold her lace
at the Women's Exchange in town and made enough to buy her new hats.
She makes enough out of her water colors to dress herself.

Aunt Susanna took a second breath and started in again.

"I notice your violin hasn't quite as much dust on it as the rest of
the things in this room, Kate. It's a pity you stopped playing just as
I came in. I don't enjoy fiddling much but I'd prefer it to seeing
anyone using a needle who isn't accustomed to it."

Kate is really a most dainty needlewoman and does all the fine sewing
in our family. She colored and said nothing--that being the highest
pitch of virtue to which our Katie, like myself, can attain.

"And there's Margaret ruining her eyes over books," went on Aunt
Susanna severely. "Will you kindly tell me, Margaret Thorne, what good
you ever expect Latin to do you?"

"Well, you see, Aunt Susanna," said Margaret gently--Magsie and Laura
are birds of a feather--"I want to be a teacher if I can manage to get
through, and I shall need Latin for that."

All the girls except me had now got their accustomed rap, but I knew
better than to hope I should escape.

"So you're reading a recipe book, Agnes? Well, that's better than
pori