tore away.

Peachy stood looking after them with wrinkled brows. She was a peppery
little person, and her temper was up for the moment. All the same,
Doris's parting shot struck home. Unfortunately it was true. The
Camellia Buds had proclaimed themselves as "Fairy Godmothers, Limited,"
had adopted juniors with much flourish of trumpets, had certainly fought
a crusade and defended them against injustice and infringement of their
rights, and then--and then--alack!--in the excitement of other matters
had almost forgotten all about them.

Peachy remembered clearly that for the first week of her championship
she had made a point of speaking daily to Olive, Doris, and Natalie.
Now, for a full fortnight she had scarcely nodded to them at the
breakfast table. They had certainly had no opportunity of pouring their
childish woes into the sympathetic and motherly ear which she had quite
intended should be always open to them.

"I've a wretched memory," she ruminated remorsefully. "Poor kiddies.
They've really got rather a grievance, though they needn't have been so
cheeky--the young imps! I guess I'd better call a meeting of the
Camellia Buds and see what's to be done. I don't believe any of us have
taken any notice of them just lately."

Nine would-have-been philanthropists, reminded of past schemes of
benevolence, blushed uneasily, and tried to revive interest in their
protegees.

"They always seemed very busy with basket-ball and other things, and
not exactly hankering after us," urged Agnes in excuse.

"They could have come to us if they'd wanted, of course," added Mary.

"That wasn't entirely the pact," said Peachy, driving in her tacks with
firm hammer. "We offered to 'mother' them, and then forgot all about
them. No wonder they think us frauds. What's to be done about it?"

"Get some more cakes somehow and ask them all to a party," suggested
Irene enthusiastically. "We have been pigs! I promised Desiree to paint
something in her album, and the book's been in my drawer for weeks, and
I've never touched it."

"How are we going to get the cakes?"

"Wheedle Antonio again, I suppose. We needn't have any ourselves. If
there are two slices apiece for the kids, it will do. We must keep some
of our biscuits from lunch so that we can seem to be eating something
ourselves. Peachy, you can coax him."

"You always leave it to me. Antonio isn't so easy to manage. Sometimes
he's an absolute Pharisee, and won't buy me so much