within the hollowed centre of which she and her girl
helpers could be protected from the crowd, while without attendant
sprites in the persons of the two young men hovered about ready to do
their bidding.

Not a single article of needlework appeared upon the stall; not a
solitary pincushion, nor handkerchief sachet, nor nightdress bag, not
even so much as an inoffensive tray cloth. There was pottery from
Portugal, and pottery from France, pottery from Switzerland in the shape
of jam and marmalade jars, originally purchased for twopence apiece, and
offered for sale at an alarming sacrifice for a shilling. There were
beads from Venice, and tiles from Holland, and fans from Spain, and a
display of Venetian glass especially provided for the entrapment of
county families. There was dainty English china (on sale or return),
and flagons of Eau de Cologne, and white and blue Della Noblia plaques
from Florence, and a dozen other dainty and perishable treasures.

"Everything!" exclaimed Pixie proudly, as she stood with arms akimbo to
view the completed stall, "everything can break! Not one single thing
that you couldn't smash in a twinkling, and no bother about it. It's
what I call a most _considerate_ stall, the most considerate I've ever
seen!"

Esmeralda laughed with complacent understanding, but the two men stared
aghast.

"Is it the object of purchasers to get rid of their purchases as soon as
they are made? Then why do they bother to--"

"It is, and they have to. It's expected of them, and they can't escape,
but you need to be soft-hearted and live in a poor neighbourhood to
understand the horror of the bazaar habit. I'll tell you a story to the
point." Pixie's eyes danced, she preened herself for prospective
enjoyment.

"There was once a rich old lady, and she sent a pink satin cushion as a
contribution to my sister Bridgie's stall at a military bazaar three
years ago. 'Twas a violent pink, with sprays of dog roses and a frill
of yellow lace, and not a soul would look at it if they had been paid
for the trouble. 'Twas tossed about the stall for two whole days, and
on the third, just at the closing, the Colonel's wife came in with five
pounds in her pocket which had arrived by post for the cause. She
wandered about like a lost sheep from one stall to another, looking for
anything that would be of any use to anybody in the world, and it was an
ageing process to get rid of four pounds five. Then she stuck