The cover was off almost before the words had left Olive's lips.
"Marshmallows!" cried the girls in chorus. "Oh, isn't that simply glorious?"
"And such a lot of them, too," added Grace Carter.
"Five pounds," Olive informed them. "We are about to sit down to a marshmallow toast. Eat all you wish, but for goodness sake do not make yourselves sick."
"She means you, Mollie," teased Ruth.
"The coat doesn't fit me, however," retorted Mollie. "But I do love marshmallows. Do we toast them over the flames of the candles?"
"No," replied Olive, as she placed the five-pound box of sweets on the rug between them and the fire. The girls sat down on the rug, with their feet curled under them. Each speared a marshmallow and thrust it close to the fire. Little blue flames rose from the white cubes and a tantalizing odor filled the air.
"Oh, dear me. Mine's gone into the fire," cried Mollie in distress. "It just melted away."
"So did mine," answered Barbara, "but it melted in my mouth."
"How nice of you to think of this, Olive. Thank you ever so much," glowed Grace Carter.