CHAPTER XVII.

HELEN DECLARES HERSELF.


Twenty minutes later Helen returned to her brother's home, her arms
loaded with cured meats, bread, a pie, some frosted cup-cakes, a glass
of jam, and a bottle of stuffed olives.

"There," she said, as she deposited her bounteous burden on the table.
"I couldn't get any tea or sugar or butter, but even without those we
can have quite a feast in a very short jiffy."

"I have some tea and some light brown sugar, which the children like
on their bread for a change after they've got tired of corn syrup,"
Mrs. Nash said.

"Good!" exclaimed Helen with genuine enthusiasm. "That's fine! Butter
and white sugar are unnecessary luxuries sometimes. Now we'll get busy
and will soon be feasting like a royal family."

And there was no mistake in her prediction. True, it was an extremely
democratic royalty--proletariat, to be more exact--but no child prince
or princess ever enjoyed the richest viands in a king's dining room
more than little Margaret, Ernest and Joseph Nash enjoyed the feast
spread before them by the girl auntie they had not seen for two years.

The conversation between Helen and Mrs. Nash, interrupted by the
former's errand to the delicatessen and drug stores, was taken up
again at the table of the royal feast. The way the children laughed