hat she did not hear the knob turn, and as the hinges suddenly creaked,
she started half out of her chair.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, settling back when she saw it was only Lloyd. "You
frightened me nearly out of my wits. I didn't know that anybody ever
came in here." Then she seemed to feel that some explanation of her
presence was necessary.

"I came in here because our room is full of clothes, spread out ready to
wear. They're all over the room,--mine on one side and Joyce's on the
other. I was so afraid I'd forget and flop down on them, or misplace
something, that I came in here to read awhile. It makes the afternoon go
faster. Seems to me it never will be time to dress."

Lloyd stood looking at the shelves around the room, then said: "If time
hangs so heavy on yoah hands, I believe I'll ask you to help me hunt for
something I have lost. It's just a trifle, and maybe it is foolish for
me to try to find it now, when everything is in such confusion, but it
is something that I want especially."

"I'd love to help hunt," exclaimed Mary, putting down her book and
holding out her arms to take the boxes which Lloyd was reaching down
from the shelves. One by one she piled them on a packing-trunk behind
her, and then climbed up beside them, sitting Turk fashion in their
midst, and leaving the chair by the window for Lloyd.

"It's just a scrap of unset turquoise," explained Lloyd, as she
unwrapped a small package, "no larger than one of the beads on this
fan-chain. I was in a big hurry when I dropped it into my drawer, and I
didn't notice which box I put it in. So we'll have to take out all these
ribbons and laces and handkerchiefs and sachet-bags."

It was the first time during her visit that Mary had been entirely alone
with her adored Princess, and to be with her now in this intimate way,
smoothing her dainty ribbons, peeping into her private boxes, and
handling her pretty belongings, gave her a pleasure that was
indescribable.

"Shall I open this, too?" she asked, presently, picking up a package
wrapped in an old gauze veil.

Lloyd glanced up. "Yes; although I haven't the slightest idea what it
can be."

A faint, delicious odor stole out as Mary unwound the veil, an odor of
sandalwood, that to her was always suggestive of the "Arabian Nights,"
of beautiful Oriental things, and of hidden treasures in secret panels
of old castles.

"I've hunted for that box high and low!" cried Lloyd, reaching forward
to take it. "M