she teased again, she got no nearer to the facts. And Polly
proposing that they make candy, the chafing dish was gotten out; and
Alexia, who was quite an adept in the art, went to work, Jasper cracking
the nuts, and Polly and Clare picking out the meats.

And then all the story of Pickering's splendid advance in the tough work
of making up his lessons came out, Jasper pausing so long to dilate with
kindling eyes upon it, that very few nuts fell into the dish. So Polly's
fingers were the only ones to achieve much, as Clare gave so close
attention to the story that he was a very poor helper.

In the midst of it, Alexia threw down the chafing-dish spoon, and
clapped her hands. "Oh, I know!" she exclaimed.

"Oh," cried Polly, looking up from the little pile of nut-meats, "how
you scared me, Alexia!"

"I know--I know!" exclaimed Alexia again, and nodding to herself wisely.

Jasper threw her a quick glance. It said, "If you know, don't tell,
Alexia." And she flashed back, "Did you suppose I would?"

"What do you know?" demanded Clare, transferring his attention from
Jasper to her. "Tell on, Alexia; what do you know?"

"Oh, my goodness me! this candy never will be done in time for those
meats," cried Alexia, picking up the spoon to stir away for dear life.
And Jasper dashed in on what Mr. Faber said about Pickering's chances
for college; a statement that completely carried Clare off his feet, so
to speak.

"You don't mean that he thinks Pick will get in without conditions?"
gasped Clare, dumfounded.

"Yes, I do." Jasper nodded brightly. "If Pick will only study; keep it
up, you know, I mean to the end. He surely said it, Clare."

It was so much for Clare to think of, that he didn't have any words at
his command.

"Now isn't that perfectly splendid in Pickering!" cried Alexia, making
the spoon fly merrily. "Oh dear me! I forgot to put in the butter.
Where--oh, here it is," and she tossed in a big piece. "To think
that--oh dear me, I forgot! I _did_ put the butter in before. Now I've
spoilt it," and she threw down the spoon in despair.

"Fish it out," cried Polly, hopping up and seizing the spoon to make
little dabs at the ball of butter now rapidly lessening.

"But it's melted--that is, almost--oh dear me!" cried Alexia.

"No, it isn't; there, see how big it is." Polly landed it deftly on the
plate and hopped back to her nut-meats again.

"And I should think you'd better shake yourself, Clare," said Jasper,
o