"
As if that were not enough, there follow minor
instructions as to trifles like ounces of walnut meats,
pounds of confectioner's sugar, and pints of very rich
cream. When cold, to be frosted with an icing made up of
more eggs, more nuts, more cream, more everything.
The children have appointed themselves official
lickers and scrapers of the spoons and icing pans, also
official guides on their auntie's walks. They regard
their Aunt Dawn as a quite ridiculous but altogether
delightful old thing.
And Norah--bless her! looks up when I come in from a
romp with the Spalpeens and says: "Your cheeks are pink!
Actually! And you're losing a puff there at the back of
your ear, and your hat's on crooked. Oh, you are
beginning to look your old self, Dawn dear!"
At which doubtful compliment I retort, recklessly:
"Pooh! What's a puff more or less, in a worthy cause?
And if you think my cheeks are pink now, just wait until
your mighty Von Gerhard comes again. By that time they
shall be so red and bursting that Frieda's, on wash day,
will look anemic by comparison. Say, Norah, how red are
German red cheeks, anyway?"
CHAPTER III
GOOD AS NEW
So Spring danced away, and Summer sauntered in.
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