ia echoed
it.

"To think you should have so little sense!" said Aunt Janet in a
disgusted tone.

"I think it was real mean of her to pretend she was deaf," said
Felicity, almost on the verge of tears.

"That was Agnes Clark all over," chuckled Uncle Roger. "How she must
have enjoyed this afternoon!"

She had enjoyed it, as we learned the next day, when a letter came from
her.

"Dear Cecily and all the rest of you," wrote the Governor's wife, "I
want to ask you to forgive me for pretending to be Aunt Eliza. I
suspect it was a little horrid of me, but really I couldn't resist the
temptation, and if you will forgive me for it I will forgive you for the
things you said about the Governor, and we will all be good friends. You
know the Governor is a very nice man, though he has the misfortune not
to be handsome.

"I had just a splendid time at your place, and I envy your Aunt Eliza
her nephews and nieces. You were all so nice to me, and I didn't dare
to be a bit nice to you lest I should give myself away. But I'll make
up for that when you come to see me at Government House, as you all must
the very next time you come to town. I'm so sorry I didn't see Paddy,
for I love pussy cats, even if they do track molasses over my clothes.
And, Cecily, thank you ever so much for that little bag of pot-pourri.
It smells like a hundred rose gardens, and I have put it between the
sheets for my very sparest room bed, where you shall sleep when you come
to see me, you dear thing. And the Governor wants you to put his name on
the quilt square, too, in the ten-cent section.

"Tell Dan I enjoyed his comments on the photographs very much. They were
quite a refreshing contrast to the usual explanations of 'who's who.'
And Felicity, your rusks were perfection. Do send me your recipe for
them, there's a darling.

"Yours most cordially,

AGNES CLARK LESLEY.

"Well, it was decent of her to apologize, anyhow," commented Dan.

"If we only hadn't said that about the Governor," moaned Felicity.

"How did you make your rusks?" asked Aunt Janet. "There was no
baking-powder in the house, and I never could get them right with soda
and cream of tartar."

"There was plenty of baking-powder in the pantry," said Felicity.

"No, there wasn't a particle. I used the last making those cookies
Thursday morning."

"But I found another can nearly full, away back on the top shelf,
ma,--the one with the yellow label.