e when
we're small," returned Alene. "A girl told me one day if you put beads
in the oven more beads would grow. So I put in my string of pink coral
but it only got hot and didn't grow a bit bigger! I never believed in
that girl again!"

"I never told you of the spring that Ivy and I made when we were
little. We thought it would be so nice to have cold water handy, so we
dug a hole in the cellar, big enough to put a good-sized tin pan in,
and filled the pan with water. We put pebbles in the bottom and moss
around the rim and thought we had a perpetual well; but when we came
back to it the old pan was dry. The water had leaked through the
holes! We were awfully disappointed that no other water had run in!"

As Laura completed her contribution to ancient history, divested of
their rain-coats, hats and rubbers, they were ready to follow Alene
into the library.

"Ivy's brought a book along, 'Tales of the Angels.' Let's read turn
about," proposed Laura.

Sitting close together, Ivy half reclining among the cushions of the
little sofa and Alene upon a leather arm chair with Laura between them
on a hassock, all shut in by the crimson curtains of the cosy corner,
where the rain beat against the window panes and the vines stirred in
the wind emphasizing the comfort of their snug retreat, they spent a
happy time reading and talking over the beautiful little stories until
Prince's renewed barking attracted their attention.

"Somebody's coming," announced Ivy, peering through the blurred window
pane.

"I guess it's the Ramseys," said Alene, going out to meet them.

"I hoped the rain would keep them away," murmured Ivy with a grimace.

"So did I," answered Laura. "I felt like turning back when Alene said
they were coming, but I hated to hurt her feelings!"

They heard Alene greeting the new-comers, then footsteps and voices in
the hall, and presently the three girls came in together.

The sisters were in the midst of an argument. Vera had found a small
rent in her silk umbrella for which she declared Hermione's umbrella
responsible.

"But I was walking ahead of you all the way, not near enough for the
rib to touch your umbrella! It must have been done when you crowded up
against the fence to let Mrs. Park and her baby carriage go past."

"Well, I couldn't go in the muddy street, could I? I don't see why
they bring babies out on such a day as this, brushing others up against
damp walls! But it's just a lit