But Mr. Sanders was now preparing to leave, and Miss Manners was conducting him to the door, her face alight with the pleasant excitement. As the caller walked past Nancy he said to her in an undertone:
“Can I speak to you, just a minute, Nancy?”
Without answering Nancy followed him outside to the porch.
“I’m coming up to see your mother this evening,” he said, when their voices were beyond reach of the others. “I’ve been expecting to for some time, but now I must. Will you tell her, please? And be sure to be on hand yourself, you and Ted, for I’m about ready to disclose the long promised secret,” he finished, his eyes twinkling merrily as he spoke.
“Oh, all right, certainly,” faltered Nancy, not quite sure just what she was saying.
“Yes,” continued Mr. Sanders, “the summer, is going fast and I’m glad things have shaped themselves before we were, any of us, forced to separate.” He was patting his brown hands together gleefully.
“Would you mind if Isabel and Ruth came over? They’re my best friends and you can trust them,” ventured Nancy, surprised at herself for doing so.
“Certainly, by all means, have them come,” replied Mr. Sanders. “I see you anticipate a surprise, and you are generous enough to want to share it with your friends. That’s the spirit I like to see. Tonight it will be a sort of private performance,” he smiled as he said this, “but to-morrow night at the hotel I’m going to tell all who come. That’s what I want your cakes for,” he finished, moving down the low steps. “We’re going to have a celebration and—well, I’ll see you this evening,” he promised, hurrying off like a happy school boy.
There was little work done in the cooking lesson after that. Everybody was so excited at the prospect of filling a real order, that the entire class immediately set to planning just how it was to be filled.
It was Christine, however, who had what Ruth called “the inspiration.” After the class was dismissed she got the girls together, out of Miss Manner’s hearing, and made her suggestion.