which could hardly be properly
characterized as chilly, for the reason that the atmosphere there was
frankly freezing.

As near as possible to the gable window stood a monster structure the
nature of which the beholders did not instantly recognize. Phyllis was
the first to cry out: "A loom! It must be a very old one, too. Oh, how
fascinating! What do you make, Jan--fabrics?"

"Rugs," explained Georgiana, pulling at a pile upon the floor. "Such
rugs as these. Good looking? Yes, dear classmates?"

"Stunning!" cried Madge Sylvester, with a smothered shiver at the
penetrating cold of the place.

"Simply wonderful!" "Too clever for anything!" and, "Oh, Jan, do you
make them to sell?" "Can I buy this one?" "I'm wild over this dull blue
and Indian red!" came tumbling from the mouths of the eager girls, as in
the fading light from the attic window they examined the hand-woven
rugs. There was sincerity in their voices; Georgiana had known there
would be; she was sure of the art and skill plainly to be found in her
product.

"I'm afraid not, Phyl. These are all orders, and I'm weeks behind. They
go to certain exclusive city shops, and I have all I can do."

"You must have struck a gold mine. I'm so glad!" congratulated
warm-hearted Phyllis.

"Well, not exactly. It's rather slow work, when you do housework, too,"
acknowledged Georgiana. "However, it does very well; it keeps us in
firewood--and oysters--for the winter."

She instantly regretted this speech, for it led, presently, as she might
have known it would, to delicately worded expressions of hope that she
would in the future give her friends the pleasure of purchasing her
wares.

Down by the fireplace again Georgiana turned upon them in her old
jesting way, which yet had in it, as they all felt, a quality which was
new. "Stop it, girls. No, I'll not sell one of you a rug of any size,
shape, or colour. I'm far behind, as I told you. But--I'll send Madge a
gorgeous one for a wedding present, if she'll tell me her preferences,
and I'll do the same for each of you, when you meet your fates. Now stop
talking about it. I only showed you to demonstrate that this is a busy
world for me as well as for you, and that I'm very content in it. Dot,
don't you want just one more of these fruitkins? By the way, since you
like them so much, I'll give you the recipe. I made it up--wasn't it
clever of me?"

"You're much the cleverest of us all, anyway," murmured Dot meekly,
nibbl