She came flying back, in a moment, with a small package in her hand.
"I wonder if this won't do just as well," she said. "It's marked elastic starch, instead of cornstarch, but it looks ever so much like the other, and it's all there is, anyway."
Molly eyed it with little favor.
"It isn't just the same," she said thoughtfully; "but if we can't get anything else, we may as well use it. Here goes, anyway." And she added a heaping spoonful.
The pudding was mixed, poured into a baking dish and set into the oven.
"There," said Molly, with an air of relief, "that's done, all but watching to see that it doesn't burn."
"And clearing up the table," sighed Polly. "It doesn't seem as if we could have used so many dishes, just for one little pudding; does it, Molly?"
"Never mind," said Molly consolingly; "when it's done, we shall feel paid for it all. I don't mind washing dishes. You put the sugar and stuff away, while I do them. I wish I felt sure about this other starch," she added, taking up the paper and glancing at it.
Polly's back was turned, when she heard an exclamation of horror. Looking around, she saw Molly who, with the package still in her hand, had dropped into a chair.
"What is it?" she asked anxiously.