r a pretence of inspecting Eric's presents, Marjorie ran downstairs.
She wanted somehow to get hold of Leonard's uniform, and she was afraid
that if she mentioned it, Elaine, in her capacity of nurse, would say
no.

"I shan't ask," decided Marjorie. "Elaine is a little 'bossy', and
inclined to appropriate Leonard all to herself at present. Surely his
own sister can borrow his uniform. I know it's in the dressing-room. I
could see it, and I got up and shut the door on purpose. I'll go round
by the other door and take it."

The deed was quickly done. Leonard's suit-case was lying open on the
floor, and she packed in it what she wanted, not without tremors lest
Elaine should come in suddenly from the bedroom and catch her. She could
hear nurse and invalid laughing together. Bag in hand, she hurried
downstairs and out into the garden. Down by the gate a woman was already
hanging about waiting. It would be the work of a moment to give it to
her. But Marjorie had not calculated upon Dona. That placid young person
usually accepted whatever her elder sister thought fit to do. On this
occasion she interfered.

"What are you doing with Leonard's suit-case?" she asked.

Marjorie hastily explained.

"Don't," begged Dona promptly. "Leonard will be fearfully savage about
it. How are you going to get his things back to him?"

"I don't know," stammered Marjorie. She had, indeed, never thought about
it.

"I've been watching that woman," urged Dona, "and I don't like her. She
asked me if this were 'The Tamarisks', and she speaks quite broken
English. You mustn't give her Leonard's uniform."

"But I promised to get it for Chrissie to act in."

"Marjorie, I tell you I don't trust Chrissie."

The woman, seeing the two girls, came inside the gate, and advanced
smilingly towards them. Marjorie, annoyed at Dona's interference, and
anxious to have her own way, greeted the stranger effusively.

"Have you come for the bag? For Miss Lang? Thanks so much. Here it is!"

Then for once in her life Dona asserted herself.

"No, it isn't!" she snapped, and, snatching the bag from her sister's
hand, she rushed with it into the house.

Marjorie followed in a towering passion, but her remonstrances were
useless. Dona, when she once took an idea into her head, was the most
obstinate person in the world.

"Leonard's things are back in the dressing-room, and I've opened the
door wide into his bedroom," she announced doggedly. "If you want to