forgot to buy
another yesterday," Cyn said, putting on the potatoes.

"We will call our contrivance a coffee-urn; it sounds aristocratic,"
suggested Nattie, as she cleared the books from the least shaky table,
and spread it with three towels, in lieu of a table-cloth. "But what
shall we do for plates to put the pies on?"

"Take those two wooden box covers in the closet," promptly responded
Cyn. "That is right, and see, here is room also for the coffee--pardon
me, I had almost said commonplace coffee-pot!"

"But the tomato! what _can_ we pour that in?" suddenly exclaimed Nattie,
with great concern.

Cyn scanned every object in the room with dismay.

"The--the wash-bowl!" she insinuated at last, determined not to be
daunted.

"Don't you think it rather large? to say nothing of its being too
suggestive?" said Nattie, laughing.

Cyn did not press the point, but shook her head, dubiously.

"I have it!" cried Nattie, "there is a fruit-dish in my room."

"Just the thing!" interrupted Cyn ecstatically, "I will run and bring
it, if you will attend to the cooking."

"Look out for Miss Kling," said Nattie, warningly; "if she catches a
glimpse of you making off with my fruit-dish, she will never rest until
she finds out everything."

"Rely on me for secrecy and dispatch," said Cyn, going. "If she sees me,
I will mention nuts and raisins; merely mention them, you know."

But Miss Kling, for once, was napping; perhaps dreaming of him Cyn
called the Torpedo--Celeste's father--and she obtained the dish, reached
her own door again without being seen by any one except the Duchess, and
was congratulating herself on her good luck, when suddenly, like an
apparition, Quimby stood before her.

Cyn started, murmured something about "oranges," slipped the soap-dish
she had also confiscated into her pocket, and tried to make the big
fruit-dish appear as small as possible.

She might, however, have spared herself any uneasiness, for this always
the most unobservant of mortals, was too much overburdened with some
affair of his own, to notice even a two-quart dish.

"Oh! I--I beg pardon, I--I was coming with a a--request to your room,"
he said eagerly. "I--would it be too much to--to bring a friend, he
knows no one here, and I am sure he and you would fraternize at once, if
I might bring him, you know."

"Certainly--yes!" replied Cyn, too anxious to get away to pay much
attention to his words, particularly as an odor of steak re