"No, but wait; I'll get it," and away he went, coming back in a moment with an empty glass, into which he poured half the cool refreshing contents.
"There! To be more social, you see. Now, mademoiselle, let's drink to health, happiness, and everlasting peace and friendship between us, from this moment henceforth. Shall we?"
"Yes," said Kat, with her brightest smile; so they clinked glasses and drank merrily in the shady porch; then shook hands to strengthen the contract, and made mutual resolves to smoke the pipe of peace forever.
Meantime Kittie, unconscious of the great reconciliation just being sealed, was having a sorry time by herself out in the hot kitchen. The icing wouldn't ice worth a cent, but persisted in being sloppy and unmanageable; and the more she spatted and smoothed, the worse it looked; and finally she called to Bea, in worn-out despair:
"I don't see what in the world is the matter with it," cried the discouraged icer, setting forth her work with a sigh of exhausted energy. "Do you see what's wrong?"
"You've iced it on the wrong side," said Bea, smothering her own disappointment, out of consideration for Kittie's tired despair. "You see the top always puffs and bakes out of shape, so the way to do is to ice the bottom, so it will look smooth and nice."
"Yes, to be sure; what a goose I was not to think! I tried to make it look even by filling the dents up, and they're all perfect little puddles;" cried Kittie in heated disgust. "What shall we do, make another one? Though I'd be afraid to try. I never made any kind but the very plainest and that wouldn't do."
"No, I had rather have this. Put it down cellar in the very coolest place, and I guess it will harden up all right," advised Bea, smothering a little sigh of regretful anxiety, as she tried to give comfort to the discouraged cook. So Kittie carried it down cellar, and throughout the rest of the day made regular trips down to see if it was hardening any; but it wasn't, and her spirits sank so low that the astonishing sight of Ralph and Kat, sworn enemies when last she saw them, coming slowly up from the pond under one umbrella and evidently on such amicable grounds, did not rouse her, except to a moment of amaze; after which, she sank back into a world of troubled dreams, where there seemed to be nothing but cakes, swimming about in puddles of icing, while a dreadful penalty hung above her defenceless head, if the puddles did not congeal into ornamental coverings before a given time.
"Oh, dear, oh! What can the matter be?" sang Ralph, stopping at the kitchen window, just in time to see her coming from the cellar-way with a face bereft of all hope. "What has happened?"
"Oh, Ralph! I don't know what I shall do," she cried, with desponding agony, and then sat down on the wood-box and burst into tears.