"Would it bother Jenny if I fussed around the stove a little, while she's doing the dishes?" she asked eagerly.
"Why, no," hesitated Miss Martha in surprise. "What do you want to do?"
"I want to make something with my berries."
"Why, child. Wait till to-morrow. Jenny will make anything you want her to."
"No, Aunt Martha." Sylvia had the unconscious air of an eager, pleading child. "It's an experiment I want to try. Please let me. I'll tell you about it afterward."
"Well, of course if you'd rather go into that hot kitchen than stay on the piazza with the others; but what in the world"—
"Oh, don't ask me, and don't tell them. They're talking about music, and they won't miss me for a little while."
Sylvia fled upstairs for her treasured pail, and down again, smiling and sparkling, into Jenny's domain. The good-natured girl made her welcome, and although Miss Lacey wished to come too, and see what her niece would be at, Sylvia laughingly closed the door upon her.
"I was never more astonished," soliloquized Miss Martha, amused and rather pleased.
She moved outdoors, and took a rocking-chair at the opposite end of the piazza from John and Edna. The latter finally interrupted her own remarks to glance at the figure sitting in the dusk. "Come over here, Sylvia. What makes you so exclusive?"