did. Then she set Clementine to crushing ice for the oysters, a task

which that young woman accomplished successfully and with great pride in her own achievement.

“All right,” said Patty, with an abstracted air; “now toast these rounds of bread, while you can have the fire; and then put them in the oven to keep hot.”

This performance was not so successful, for when Clementine showed her plate of toast it was a collection of burnt crisps and underdone, spongy bread.

“For goodness’ sake!” exclaimed Patty, “can’t you toast better than that? They won’t do at all. Cut some more bread and hurry up about it!”

“You said you’d be cross,” murmured Clementine, as she cut more bread; “but you didn’t say you’d snap my head off like a raging tiger.”

Both girls laughed, but Patty toasted the bread herself, as she wasn’t willing to take any more chances in that direction.

But the real excitement began when the luncheon hour actually arrived.

Though not exactly nervous, Patty’s mind was strung to a certain tension which can only be appreciated by those who know the sensations of an _amateur_ cook preparing a formal meal.

Precisely at half-past one Patty placed on the dumb-waiter eight plates of grape-fruit, the appearance of which caused Clementine to clasp her hands in speechless admiration. Each golden hemisphere nestled in a bed of clear, cracked ice, and was marvellously decorated with crimson cherries and glossy, green orange leaves.

After this the various courses followed one another in what seemed to the girls maddeningly rapid succession.

Clementine soon discovered that she could do only the simplest things, but her quick wit enabled her to help in other ways, by getting the dishes ready and handing Patty such things as she wanted.

It was a thrilling hour, but Patty’s spirits rose as one course after another turned out the very acme of perfection. The croquettes were the loveliest golden brown, the quail broiled to a turn, the lobster hot in its paper cases and the salad a dream of cold, crisp beauty. At last they reached the dessert. This was a complicated affair with various adjuncts in the way of sauces and whipped cream. The main part was frozen and was packed in a large tub of ice and salt. Clementine volunteered to get this out, and as Patty was busy, she let her do it.

But alas, the inexperienced girl opened the pudding-mould before taking it from the freezer, the salt water rushed in, and in a moment the delicious confection was totally uneatable.

Patty grasped the situation, Clementine fully expected she would be cross, now if ever; but, as Patty afterward explained, the occasion was too critical for that.

“The dessert is spoiled!” she said, in an awe-stricken whisper. “We must make another!”

“What out of?” asked Clementine, in the same hushed tone.

“I don’t know; what have you in the house?”

“Bread!” exclaimed Clementine, with a sudden inspiration from the loaf on the table.

“Ridiculous! there must be something else! Have you any stale cake?”

“I don’t know. Yes, wait a minute, there’s plenty of fruit-cake; but it’s locked up in one of the pantry cupboards.”

“Where’s the key? Quick!”

“Why, I don’t know; I suppose it’s in mamma’s desk.”

“Run and get it!” and Patty fairly glared at Clementine. “Fly! and don’t be gone more than half a minute!”

Poor Clementine, bewildered by the awful emergency which she had herself brought about, flew for the key, and luckily found it at once.

She returned with a huge fruit-cake, and in a second Patty’s anxious face broke into smiles.

“The country is safe!” she cried, dancing round the kitchen; “Fate cannot harm us now, nor salt water either.”

“I don’t believe mamma will like just fruit-cake for dessert,” said Clementine, dubiously.

“Huh!” said Patty, tossing her head in the air; “watch the magician! But first, have you any rather large-sized wine-glasses? Tall, you know, with slender stems.”

“Yes,” said Clementine, already disappearing in quest of them.

When she returned Patty had eight discs of cake, which she had cut from slices, and placing one in each glass, she put on each a spoonful of the sauce that had been intended for the unfortunate frozen pudding. This she topped with a shapely mound of whipped cream, on which she daintily placed candied cherries.

The desserts were ready in ample time, and after sending up the coffee Patty drew a long sigh of relief.

Then the two hungry girls sat down in the kitchen to eat their own luncheon, for which there was an ample supply of the good things left, and to talk over the exciting experience.

“You’re a wonder, Patty,” said Clementine; “I had no idea you could do things like that.”

“Oh, I’ve been a housekeeper in my day, you know,” said Patty; “and it was only after lots of failures that I learned to do those things right.”

Later on, Mrs. Morse undertook to express her gratitude to the little girl who had rescued her from so much trouble and mortification. But the good lady’s delight was too great for words, and she promised that the time would yet come when she would reward Patty in some appropriate way.

“I don’t want any reward,” said Patty, looking lovingly at her friend, “except to know that I helped you when nobody else could.”

“You certainly did that,” said Mrs. Morse.