ell. Oh yes, I have though, once. There was
a saffron cake in the hamper. Fanny's own, too. Why," with sudden
recollection, "I haven't had a good talk with Fanny yet. Aunt Pike was
about all the time, and dried up the words in my throat. I'm going down
to see her this very moment as ever is." And that moment he went.

The other three followed swiftly but silently, for Anna was at home and
in her bedroom, resting, preparatory to going to a party that evening--
the break-up party at Hillside--at least she was supposed to be resting.
Her sharp ears, though, were ever on the alert, and if she guessed what
was going on, she would come out and spoil everything. Mrs. Pike was
shopping--buying gloves, and elastic for Anna's shoes, and a few trifles
for herself, for she too was going to the party.

The kitchen was very snug and warm and full of business, as well as
savoury odours, when they reached it. Fanny had a large Christmas cake
out cooling on the table, and mince pies and tartlets all ready to go
into the oven, while on a clean white cloth at one end of the table were
laid half a dozen large saffron cakes and a lot of saffron nubbies to
cool.

"O Fanny, how I adore you!" cried Dan, hugging her warmly. "No one in
the world reads my thoughts as you do. The one thing I wanted at this
moment was a nubby, and here it is." And seizing a couple he began to
eat them with a rapidity that was positively alarming. "I know, though
you don't say much, that you are overjoyed to see me home again; I can
see it in your eyes. The house is a different place when I am home,
isn't it?"

"It is _different_ certainly," said Fanny with emphasis and a sniff, but
not quite the emphasis Dan had asked for. Her coolness did not put him
out, though. Fanny had a soft spot in her heart for him, and he knew
it, the scamp; but though Dan was perhaps her favourite, at any rate for
the moment, the others benefited by the favour shown to him.

"I knew you would feel it," he said sympathetically; "I was afraid it
would tell on you. How thin you have gone, Fanny," with an anxious
glance at Fanny's plump cheeks.

"Get along with your iteming. Master Dan," she said severely.
"I should have thought they'd have learnt you better at school; and if
anybody'd asked me, I should have said that the kitchen wasn't the place
for young gentlemen."

"But nobody has asked you," said Dan. "And how," melodramatically,
"could you expect me to keep a