"Oh, somefing," answered Elsie, wagging her head mysteriously. "None of
the rest of you must know, Cousin Helen said so, it's a secret she and
me has got."

"I don't believe Cousin Helen said so at all," said Katy, crossly. "She
wouldn't tell secrets to a silly little girl like you."

"Yes she would too," retorted Elsie angrily. "She said I was just as
good to trust as if I was ever so big. And she said I was her pet. So
there! Katy Carr!"

"Stop disputing," said Aunt Izzie. "Katy your top-drawer is all out of
order. I never saw anything look so badly. Go up stairs at once and
straighten it, before you do anything else. Children, you must keep in
the shade this morning. It's too hot for you to be running about in the
sun. Elsie, go into the kitchen and tell Debby I want to speak to her."

"Yes," said Elsie, in an important tone, "And afterwards I'm coming back
to write my letter to Cousin Helen."

Katy went slowly up stairs, dragging one foot after the other. It was a
warm, languid day. Her head ached a little, and her eyes smarted and
felt heavy from crying so much. Everything seemed dull and hateful. She
said to herself, that Aunt Izzie was very unkind to make her work in
vacation, and she pulled the top-drawer open with a disgusted groan.

It must be confessed that Miss Izzie was right. A bureau-drawer could
hardly look worse than this one did. It reminded one of the White
Knight's recipe for a pudding, which began with blotting-paper, and