“Good idea,” said Clare.
But when Alexia told of their funny reception, Jasper first stared, then burst out laughing. And although Alexia teased and teased, she got no satisfaction.
“It's no use, Alexia,” Jasper said, wiping his eyes, “you won't get me to tell. So let's set about having some fun. What shall we do?”
“I don't want to do anything,” pouted Alexia, “only to know what made Pickering Dodge act in that funny way.”
“And that's just what you won't know, Alexia,” replied Jasper composedly. “Well, Polly, you are going to put off toasting the marshmallows, aren't you, till to-morrow night, when Pick can probably come?”
“Oh, I wouldn't wait for him,” Alexia burst out, quite exasperated, “when he's acted so. And perhaps he'd come with an old sofa pillow before his face, if you did.”
“Oh, no, he won't, Alexia,” said Jasper, going off into another laugh. But although she teased again, she got no nearer to the facts. And Polly proposing that they make candy, the chafing dish was gotten out; and Alexia, who was quite an adept in the art, went to work, Jasper cracking the nuts, and Polly and Clare picking out the meats.
And then all the story of Pickering's splendid advance in the tough work of making up his lessons came out, Jasper pausing so long to dilate with kindling eyes upon it, that very few nuts fell into the dish. So Polly's fingers were the only ones to achieve much, as Clare gave so close attention to the story that he was a very poor helper.
In the midst of it, Alexia threw down the chafing-dish spoon, and clapped her hands. “Oh, I know!” she exclaimed.
“Oh,” cried Polly, looking up from the little pile of nut-meats, “how you scared me, Alexia!”