“There,” said Charlotte, as she stuck a tiny American flag just over the entrance, “I consider that the finishing touch.  Now if you boys will come over this afternoon and freeze it it will probably last for some time.”

“What a short morning!” exclaimed Betty as the church clock struck twelve.  “I’m as warm as toast and as hungry as a bear.”

“Come in and help me get out the lunch Melina left for us,” begged Charlotte, “and then we can rest till the boys come over this afternoon.”

The boys left in a cloud of snowballs, but Joe found a chance to say softly to Charlotte as he passed her, “Feeling better, Charlotte?  You look it.”

“Run along and don’t be foolish,” answered Charlotte disdainfully.

“Goodness!  Melina must have thought she was going to feed an army,” laughed Betty, as Charlotte brought out sandwiches, cookies, brown bread and a plate heaped with the cunning apple turnovers for which Melina was famous.  “Doesn’t everything look good?”

“Don’t you want to make us some cocoa, Bettina?  Yours is so good.”

Betty laughed.  “Of course, you sly old thing.  You know I love to show off on cooking, don’t you?”

“Good reason why; because you’re so clever about it.  I wish I weren’t such a stupid about doing all the things a girl is expected to do, and I truly wish I didn’t hate it all so.”

“You can do other things,” answered Betty loyally; “things I’d be only too glad to do if I could.  You ought to have heard all the nice things Ruth said about you the other day.”

Charlotte’s heart sank.  The joy of working in the keen, clear air had almost made her forget the unpleasantness of the morning.  Now it ail came back to her with a rush.  Ruth would never again say nice things about her, and there would be an end, of course, to ail the delightful intimacy which had seemed to promise so much pleasure for the winter.

“Charlotte, Charlotte, Irving is climbing on the table to get a turnover,” announced Molly in a tone of dignified disapproval, and Charlotte came to the rescue just in time to defeat the plans of the small pirate, whose schemes for getting what he wanted were without end.

It was a jolly lunch, for they were all too hungry to notice Charlotte’s sudden depression, and the twins kept Betty in a perpetual state of amusement.  To Charlotte, however, the tempting food might as well have been something far less appetizing, for the keen discomfort she was feeling took away all sense of pleasure.

“I don’t believe I want to work any more on the snow-house,” she said soberly, as she and Betty finished putting away the dishes.  “You and the boys can finish up if you like, but I’m almost too tired to move.”

“Well, I don’t care,” answered Betty good-naturedly.  “I ought to be working on my Christmas presents anyway, and I’ve had a pretty good airing this morning.  Can’t you bring some sewing over to my house?”