"I shouldn't have done it if she had," declared Marian. "I'd let her wait on herself. I think you're the silliest girl I know. Put your wretched pips in the fire if you're going to."
The result was unfortunate. The one christened 'Nina' popped away promptly, much to its owner's indignation.
"You won't stick to her, you see," laughed Marian, "You'll get tired of her, and throw her over, as you do everybody else."
The amusement proved popular, and all the girls insisted upon trying the fortunes of themselves and their friends.
Connie Camden was faithless to everybody; Jessie Ellis had a solitary failure, but would not divulge the name she had chosen or make another attempt; and Gwennie, to her great disgust, turned traitor to her beloved Marian.
"We must go in together of course," said Hazel, throwing two pips, for herself and Linda, into the flames. They were fat, juicy ones, and it was a little while before they caught fire. Pop, pop, they both went, each shooting to different sides of the grate with such violence that they fell out into the fender.
"They haven't finished. We must try them again," cried Hazel, stooping over the guard to pick them up.
"No! No!" exclaimed the others. "They've flown as hard as any could fly. You've both done with each other entirely. Now someone else. Linda, see if you have better luck with Sylvia!"
It was very foolish, but Sylvia looked on with quite a feeling of anxiety as Linda dropped two carefully chosen pips into a ruddy hollow among the coals. Would they both fly apart, she wondered, or would only one leave the other, and if so which? Or would they linger together until they were burnt to ashes? It seemed to her as though it were an omen of their friendship.
"They're burning," said Nina. "One's just going to pop! No, it isn't. It's changed its mind. They've both rolled down into that hot piece. There they go! They're burnt as black as cinders. You two are friends. You're the only ones who have kept together of all we've tried."