other end of the garden to apostrophise the
heavens and pity her hard lot. "It will be sure to pour! It always
does pour when we want to do anything!" she declared; upon which Nan
threw her book into the air and caught it again with a dexterous
movement.

"Fiddle-de-dee! It's going to be a bright, glorious summer day, with
just enough sun to be warm and not enough to be hot, and just enough
wind to be cool and not enough to be cold. And the grass is going to be
dry and the strawberries ripe; and all the pretty ladies and gentlemen
are going to drive over from miles and miles around, and spend so much
money that they will have none left to take them home. What is the use
of croaking? If things go wrong, it's bad enough to have to bear them
at the time; but until then imagination is our own, and we will make the
most of it. It will not pour, my dear Raven; so don't let me hear you
say so again! Make up your mind that this sale is going to be a
success, and try to bear it as well as you can."

Elsie looked up at the corner of the ceiling, and arched her eyebrows in
resigned and submissive fashion. When the rain did come,--as of course
it would,--when all the fancy work was drenched and the pretty dresses
spoiled, the girls would remember her prophecy, and be compelled to
acknowledge its correctness; but till then she would suffer in silence,
and refuse to be drawn into vulgar argument. So she determined, at
least; but a fiery temptation assailed her in the form of another
objection, so unanswerable that it was not in human nature to resist
hurling it at the heads of her companions.

"I hope you are right, I am sure; but, all the same, it is rather early
in the day to make arrangements. You are counting without your host.
How can you tell that mother will consent to let you have the sale at
all?"

And at that the listeners hung their heads and were silent, for it was
indeed useless to build castles unless they were first assured of this
foundation.

CHAPTER THREE.

A NEW NEIGHBOUR.

After dinner that evening the six girls assembled in the drawing-room,
and little Mrs Rendell sat in their midst on a low chair drawn up in
the centre of the fireplace. A grey silk dress fitted closely to the
lines of her tiny figure, two minute little slippers were placed upon
the fender, and the diamonds flashed on her fingers as she held up a fan
to protect her face from the blaze. She looked ridiculously young and