"You haven't told us what it is yet. Is it a game?"
Gipsy laughed till she nearly collapsed off the table.
"A game? No; Fudge is candy—the most delicious adorable stuff you ever tasted. Get me a pan, and some sugar, and some milk, and some butter, and I'll make some for you this instant. How you'll bless me!"
"Don't I wish you could!" sighed Norah Bell. "But we're not allowed to make toffee except on the 5th of November. They let us have a pan then, and we boil it over this fire."
"We'll have a pan of our own here," said Gipsy cheerily. "I'll go out and buy one to-morrow. I can't exist without Fudge."
"But we aren't allowed to go out and buy things," exclaimed the girls in chorus.
"Do you mean to tell me we mayn't go on the least scrap of an errand if we ask leave?"
"Not if you ask ever so!"
"Why, that's dreadful! I can't be boxed up like that. I'd as soon be in prison. I'm afraid you'll find me walking out on my own sometimes."
"You'll get into an uncommonly big scrape if you do!"