n what the queer
expression on Mr. Drummond's face meant, and he did not know himself;
but he had the strongest desire to laugh at this.

They parted after this the best of friends; and Phillis tasted the
cherries, and pronounced them very good.

"You have quite forgiven me?" Mr. Drummond said, as she accompanied
him to the door before rejoining her sisters. "You know I have
promised not to do it again until the next time."

"Oh, we shall see about that!" returned Phillis, good-humoredly.
"Forewarned is forearmed; and there is a triple alliance against
you."

"Good heavens, what mockery it seems! I never saw such girls,--never!"
thought Mr. Drummond, as he took long strides down the road. "But
Mattie is right: they mean business, and nothing in the world would
change that girl's determination if she had set herself to carry a
thing out. I never knew a stronger will!" And in this he was tolerably
right.

CHAPTER XXII.

"TRIMMINGS, NOT SQUAILS."

The longest week must have an end; and so at last the eventful Monday
morning arrived,--"Black Monday," as Dulce called it, and then sighed
as she looked out on the sunshine and the waving trees, and thought
how delicious a long walk or a game of tennis would be, instead of
stitch, stitch, stitching all day. But Dulce was an unselfish little
soul, and kept all these thoughts to herself, and dressed herself
quickly; for she had overslept herself, and Phillis had long been
downstairs.

Nan was locking up the tea-caddy as she entered the parlor, and
Phillis was standing by the table, drawing on her gloves, and her lips
were twitching a little,--a way they had when Phillis was nervous.

Nan went up and kissed her, and gave her an encouraging pat.

"This is for luck, my dear; and mind you make the best of poor Miss
Milner's dumpy, roundabout little figure. There I have put the
body-lining, and the measuring-tape, and a paper of pins in this
little black bag; and I have not forgotten the scissors,--oh, dear,
no! I have not forgotten the scissors," went on Nan, with such
surprising cheerfulness that Phillis saw through it, and was down on
her in a moment.

"No, Nan; there! I declare I will not be such a goose. I am not
nervous,--not one bit; it is pure fun, that's what it is. Dulce, what
a naughty child you are to oversleep yourself this morning, and I had
not the heart to wake you, you looked so like a baby: and we never
wake babies because they are sure to squa