"Of course, but you mustn't call me that," said Eleanor, turning to her
with a charming smile. Beatrice Egerton had said that she should be over
in the course of the afternoon, and Eleanor had been dreading her coming.
The necessity of keeping up appearances with Beatrice and the rest was
wearing Eleanor out. It was a distinct relief to talk to Dora, with whom
no artifices were necessary. Whoever else knew her secret, Dora certainly
did not; she was as remote from the stream of college gossip as if she
had lived in another world.

"I am so glad to see that you're resting," said Dora brightly. "I take it
as an omen that perhaps you'll be able to do what I want."

"I hope I can," said Eleanor. "What is it?"

"Why, I'm going to have a sugaring-off tonight," announced Dora
impressively, "and I should be very pleased to have you come."

For a moment Eleanor hesitated, then her better nature triumphed. This
was the first thing the child had ever asked of her, and she should have
it, even at the cost of some trifling annoyance.

"How nice," she said cordially. "I shall be delighted to come. Just what
is a sugaring-off, Dora?"

Dora laughed gleefully. "It's amazing to me how few people know what it
is. I'm not going to tell you the particulars, but I will excite your
interest by saying that it has to do with maple sugar."

"How did you happen to think of having one?" inquired Eleanor curiously.