ot the measles. "Don't you think it is only a bad
dream, and we'll wake up presently?"

Tom shook his head gloomily. "I'm awake right enough," he said, "so are
you."

"I wish I wasn't; I'd never been asked away before, in all my life, and
there would have been the train, and the donkey cart when we got there,
and a s-s-swing in the orchard. Oh, Faith, isn't it dreadful, that such
things can happen, and all because of measles--as if measles are anything
to make a fuss about."

"Some people make such a fuss about a little thing," scoffed Tom,
"I wouldn't have minded going and catching them. I've got to have them
some time, I s'pose, so I might as well have had them there as at home--
better, too!"

"I doubt if Mrs. Vivian would have thought so," said Faith. "Cheer up,
both of you, and try not to mind. Perhaps Mrs. Vivian will ask you again
some day, and you see you can't go, neither can Irene, so we shall have
her here for a long time yet--and won't that be jolly!"

When Audrey had first heard the news she had breathed a sigh of relief and
sympathy. Relief, when she thought of the scanty, shabby little outfits
which were all they had to take with them. Sympathy with their
disappointment. She knew what it was to feel the latter.

Irene was frankly dismayed. To land oneself suddenly on new friends for a
day or two was bad enough, but to be told that you must not return home
for some weeks--indeed, for no one knew how long--was most embarrassing.

"I am so sorry," she said apologetically to Mrs. Carlyle, "I expect mother
will arrange for me to go somewhere as soon as possible, I--I hope it
won't be very inconvenient my staying here until I hear."

Mrs. Carlyle smiled at her affectionately. "Inconvenient! Irene, dear,
how could it be. We should simply rejoice to have you as long as you can
stay--that is, of course, if you would like to. The Vicar wrote to your
mother at once to know if we might keep you during the time, and we are
waiting to hear."

"Like to! Oh, Mrs. Carlyle, how good you are to me! I would like it
better than anything," she cried enthusiastically, bending down to give
the invalid a warm kiss. Then, turning swiftly, she caught up Baby Joan
and danced with her round the room. "Oh, isn't it perfectly lovely, Joan
darling. I am going to stay with you, Joany Carlyle, for weeks, instead
of going to strangers. If you were only half as pleased as I am you would
clap your hands and sing