There was a little film of water over the top of the bowl, but
Sister took a wooden spoon and stirred it carefully, and the water
mixed nicely with the white stuff, so that she had a bowl filled
with the smoothest, whitest "icing" any cook could ask for.
"I'll get a silver knife to spread it with," said Sister, who had
often watched Molly, and knew what to do.
She brought the knife from the dining-room and had just put one
broad streak of white across the top of the cake when Molly came
down the back stairs and saw her.
"Sister!" cried Molly. "What are you doing with my cold starch?"
"I'm icing the cake," answered Sister calmly. "You forgot it, I
guess."
Poor Molly grabbed the bowl from Sister's hands.
"Can't I leave the kitchen one minute that you don't get into
mischief?" she scolded. "This isn't ICING--it's STARCH for Mr.
Jimmie's collars. I'm going to make a beautiful chocolate icing
for the cake this afternoon and write Brother's name on it in
white frosting."
"Oh!" said Sister meekly.
"Go on upstairs, do," Molly urged her. "I've my hands full today
getting ready for the party; can't you find something nice to do
upstairs?"
Thus sped on her way, Sister reluctantly mounted the stairs to the
second floor.
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