ed to her friend.

"I think it would be fine. Oh, Nettie you will have things that aren't a
bit like anyone else has had and they will all be so good. I am sure the
girls will say so."

Nettie beamed. This was such a pleasant thing to hear. "But I haven't
spent but twenty-five cents of my prize money," she said.

"Are you so very sorry for that?" her mother asked.

"No, but--Is it all mine, mother, to do what I choose with, even if I
don't spend it for the club?"

"Why, of course, my dear. You earned it, and if I am able to help you
out a little that should make no difference."

"Then I think I know what I should like to do with it. I shall make two
secrets of it and one I shall tell you, mother, and the other I can tell
Edna."

"Tell me mine now," said Edna getting down from the chair.

Nettie took her off into the next room where there was much whispering
for the next few minutes. "I shall get something for mother," Nettie
explained. "I don't know exactly what but I will find out what she needs
the most."

"I think that is a perfectly lovely plan," agreed Edna. "Now I must go
back and tell Ben, for he will want to know. You come up this afternoon,
Nettie, won't you?"

Nettie promised, and after Edna had gone she said to her mother,
"Mother, I think I will spend part of my money on a birthday gift for
Edna. It was all her doings about the puzzle and I would like to have
her have something I could buy with the money. Will you help me?"

"Indeed I will, my dear, and I think that is an excellent plan."

So Nettie had her two secrets and in time both gifts were given.

Her meeting was an interesting one. The girls always liked the old attic
and it was seldom that a meeting there did not turn out to be one which
was thoroughly enjoyed. The refreshments received even more praise than
Edna had predicted, for not a crumb of gingerbread, not a single
maple-sugar cream, nor a drop of raspberry shrub was left, and the
honorary member went home in an exalted frame of mind.

On the very evening of this meeting, while Edna was looking over her
favorite page of her father's paper, she heard him say to his wife.
"Humph. That was a bad failure of Green and Adams to-day. Adams was a
pretty high-flyer, and a good many of the men on the 'Change have been
prophesying this crash."

"What Adams is that?" asked Mrs. Conway.

"Oliver Adams. He lives on the square, you know, in that large white
house with the lions in front.