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"Oh, Ma Schofield, what have you done?" cried Nellie, her tears

for the moment forgetting to flow as her widening eyes took in

the delights of the frosted glasses and piles of cake behind

them.

"Done?" queried ma. "I haven't done anything but what my

conscience tells me ought to be done. If yours cal'lates to

disturb you some you can go right on up to your room, lamb, for

you must be dead with lugging them children around."

Nellie's tears disappeared not to return. She shook her head.

"No, ma," she said; "my conscience is just like them

children--sleeping so hard it would take Gabriel's trumpet to

wake 'em up. It's more tired than I am."

"All right," said ma, with finality; "we will now proceed to

refresh ourselves."

It was two o'clock before they separated for the remainder of the

night.

Code's room, with its big mahogany double bed, was given over to

Nellie and the children while he gladly resigned himself to the

humpy plush sofa.