"One that you'll appreciate tremendously, Mrs. Hancock," he said gravely. "All housekeepers will. You must get Margaret to make you one."
"Don't tell her what it is and I can give it to her for Christmas," cried Margaret.
James's egg-nog and his wafers were placed on the table beside him. The others sat at small tables, of which there were several around the room, and drank their egg-nog and ate their cakes with great satisfaction.
"Tell me how this egg-nog is made," begged Helen. "It is delicious and I'm sure Mother would like to know."
"Mother always has it made the same way," replied Margaret. "I'm sure it is concocted out of six eggs and half a pound of sugar, and three pints of whipped cream and a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg."
"It's so foamy—that isn't the whipped cream alone."
"First you beat the yolks of the eggs and the sugar together until it is all frothy. Then you beat the whites of the eggs by themselves until they are stiff and you stir that in gently. Then you put the spice on top of that and lastly you heap the whipped cream on top of the whole thing."
"It's perfectly delicious," exclaimed Dorothy, "and so is the fruit cake."
"Mother prides herself on her fruit cake. It is good, isn't it? She's going to let me make some to send to the orphans."
"Won't that be great. Baked in ducky little pans like these."