"I just thought of something," she said, laughing again. "Something too
funny for words. I'll have to go now," she added, as if the cause of her
mysterious mirth was in some way responsible for her departure.

"Thanks mightily for the candy, Mary. It's the best ever. You're going
to be overflowed with orders, I'm sure. Well, farewell friends and
fellow citizens, I'll see you later."

"What do you suppose it was that made her laugh so," asked A.O.,
suspiciously. "There's always some mischief brewing when she acts that
way. I don't dare leave her by herself a minute for fear she'll plot
something against me. I'll have to be going, too, Mary."

Left to herself, Mary began washing the utensils she had used. By the
time she had removed every trace of her candy-making, the confections
set out on the window sill in the wintry air were firm and hard, all
ready to be wrapped in the squares of paraffine paper and packed in the
boxes waiting for them. She whistled softly as she drew in the plates,
but stopped with a start when she realized that it was Elise's song she
was echoing:

"Amang the train there is a swain
I dearly lo'e mysel'."

"It must be awfully nice," she mused, "to have somebody as devoted to
you as the Lieutenant is to Elise and Jimmy is to A.O. If I were A.O. I
wouldn't care if the whole school came down to meet him. I'd _want_ them
to see him. I made up my mind at Eugenia's wedding that it was safer to
be an old maid, but I'd hate to be one without ever having had an