and tilted its swing glass to
a convenient angle at which to catch reflections. Then she pulled hard
at a stalk, looked with apparent satisfaction at the decidedly thick
lumps of earth that adhered (which, if the magic were to be trusted,
must represent a considerable fortune); then, clasping her cabbage in
her hand, knelt down in front of the looking-glass, and began to mutter
something to herself in a low voice. Her back was towards the
cucumber-frame and the bushes, and her eyes were fixed on her mirror.

Prissie, looking on, realized that it was the chance of a lifetime. She
stole on tiptoe from her retreat, and peeped over Laurette's shoulder so
that her reflection should be displayed in the glass. Laurette, seeing
suddenly a most unexpected vision of a dark mustache, literally yelled
with fright, sprang up, and turned round to face her "spook," then with
a further blood-curdling scream, dashed down the garden towards the
house. The Mafia, rising from the shadow of the cucumber-frame, laughed
long, though with caution.

"What an absolutely topping joke!" whispered Dulcie.

[Illustration: SHE PEEPED OVER LAURETTE'S SHOULDER]

"And on Laurette, of all people in this wide world!" rejoiced Bertha.

"Congrats., Prissie!"

"You _did_ play up no end!"

"I flatter myself I made her squeal and run!" smirked Prissie. "It just
serves her right! I was longing for a chance to get even with her!"

"What about the looking-glass?" asked Carmel. "Won't some of them be
coming out to fetch it?"

"Yes, of course they will! We must take it in at once. Let us scoot
round the other way, and go in by the back door before Laurette and Co.
catch us!"

Prissie seized the mirror, and the nine girls fled by another path to
the door near the kitchen, where by great good luck they avoided meeting
any of the servants, and were able to bolt upstairs unseen. The Gold
bedroom was empty--no doubt its occupants were shivering at the side
door--so they were able to restore the looking-glass to its place on the
dressing-table as a surprise for Laurette when she returned. Whether she
suspected them or not, it was impossible to tell, for she kept her own
counsel, and, though next day they referred casually to Hallowe'en
observances, she only glanced at them with half-closed eyelids, and
remarked that _she_ was quite above such silly superstitions.

"Which is more than a fiblet, and about the biggest whopper that Miss
Laurette Aitken has ever