ring!); and during the whole of these
preparations she looked demurely every now and then at Tom, from under
her dark eyelashes, as if they were all a part of the pudding, and
indispensable to its composition.

For the life and soul of him, Tom could get no further in his
writing than, 'A respectable young man, aged thirty-five,' and this,
notwithstanding the show she made of being supernaturally quiet, and
going about on tiptoe, lest she should disturb him; which only served
as an additional means of distracting his attention, and keeping it upon
her.

'Tom,' she said at last, in high glee. 'Tom!'

'What now?' said Tom, repeating to himself, 'aged thirty-five!'

'Will you look here a moment, please?'

As if he hadn't been looking all the time!

'I am going to begin, Tom. Don't you wonder why I butter the inside of
the basin?' said his busy little sister.

'Not more than you do, I dare say,' replied Tom, laughing. 'For I
believe you don't know anything about it.'

'What an infidel you are, Tom! How else do you think it would turn out
easily when it was done! For a civil-engineer and land-surveyor not to
know that! My goodness, Tom!'

It was wholly out of the question to try to write. Tom lined out
'respectable young man, aged thirty-five;' and sat looking on, pen in
hand, with one of the most loving smiles imaginable.

Such a busy little woman as she was! So full of self-importance and
trying so hard not to smile, or seem uncertain about anything! It was a
perfect treat to Tom to see her with her brows knit, and her rosy lips
pursed up, kneading away at the crust, rolling it out, cutting it up
into strips, lining the basin with it, shaving it off fine round the
rim, chopping up the steak into small pieces, raining down pepper and
salt upon them, packing them into the basin, pouring in cold water for
gravy, and never venturing to steal a look in his direction, lest her
gravity should be disturbed; until, at last, the basin being quite full
and only wanting the top crust, she clapped her hands all covered with
paste and flour, at Tom, and burst out heartily into such a charming
little laugh of triumph, that the pudding need have had no other
seasoning to commend it to the taste of any reasonable man on earth.

'Where's the pudding?' said Tom. For he was cutting his jokes, Tom was.

'Where!' she answered, holding it up with both hands. 'Look at it!'

'THAT a pudding!' said Tom.

'It WILL be, you stupid fe