was almost as anxious for my triumph as I was myself, I succeeded
in turning out my cream, pure, rich, white, just the right consistency,
and deliciously flavored. It was but a small quantity, however; just a
trial sample, not enough for family distribution; and, calling Allie
and Daisy to the secret session which Thomas and I were holding in the
butler's pantry, I divided the luscious morsel between them, exacting,
first, the most solemn promise of secrecy. Allie demurred to this at
first, having conscientious scruples about keeping any thing from
mother; but she was finally persuaded to look upon it as a preparation
for an agreeable surprise, as I assured her that this was only the
prelude to a more extensive treat to the whole family, as well as the
class. Moreover, the sight of the dainty, and Daisy's enjoyment of it,
were too much for her, she having rather a leaning towards the
flesh-pots.

I was quite uplifted in my own estimation for the next twenty-four
hours or so, and pleased myself mightily with the thought of out-doing
all the other girls with my dainty, luscious dish. Allie and Daisy
could be trusted "not to tell," when they had once given their promise;
but they went about with a portentous aspect of having a secret, which
almost made me regret that I had taken them into my confidence.

It being leap-year, and our advantages, or possibly disadvantages, in
connection with that period being about to come to an end with the
close of the year, we had determined upon making the most of them.
Hence our guests, when they should arrive, were to submit to be waited
upon, and to receive such attentions as they were accustomed to bestow
upon us.

The day and the hour had arrived, and the members of the class, each
one with an enormous protecting apron over her pretty dress, had
assembled in our front basement, which, being convenient to the kitchen
and store-room, had been chosen as the workshop for the occasion. Each
was intent on her own dish, and each in her turn was superintended and
overlooked by cousin Serena; but merry talk and laughter held their
own, in spite of business.

"What are you making, Amy?" asked Mollie Morgan. "How delicious and
creamy that looks, and how readily you go to work about it. Why, I
thought you were no cook at all; but one would think you had been doing
that all your life. What is it?" she repeated, as I cast a guilty,
deprecating look at Miss Craven. But cousin Serena had no tho