Father to develop; he's very clever at photos."

"You won't be able to take snaps in this dark weather," said Hazel. "I
don't expect you can do much with it until spring. I took some last
autumn, and they were so faint you couldn't tell what they were meant
for."

"Well, she can try, at any rate," said Linda. "Perhaps she can manage
a time exposure if she puts the camera on something steady, and get a
group of the whole class in the garden. What's in the next parcel?"

It proved to be a copy of the _Talisman_, with "Sylvia Lindsay, from
her loving Father", written inside--a welcome present, as Sylvia was
collecting Scott, and was glad to have an addition to her number of
volumes.

"This is a child's writing," said Marian, taking up a small packet,
addressed in a round, rather shaky-looking hand. "Shall I cut the
string for you?"

"Really, Marian! Let her open her own parcels. They're her presents,"
said Linda.

"And my scissors," returned Marian. "I only wanted to help her. Oh!
That's pretty!" she exclaimed as Sylvia unwrapped a purse made of
mother-of-pearl with a gilt clasp and lined with crimson silk. On a
half-sheet of notepaper was written: "With best wishes for your
birthday from Effie and May".

"How kind of them to send me anything!" said Sylvia. "They never have
done before. I suppose it's because I'm at school. I really am in luck
this time."

The next parcel was from Aunt Louisa and Cousin Cuthbert. It was an
upright wooden box, containing a set of table croquet, eight little
mallets and balls, with hoops and sticks, arranged on a polished wood
stand, and sandbags to place round the table to prevent the balls from
rolling off on to the floor.

"I think this is the nicest of all," cried Linda. "There are just
eight mallets, so that the whole class can play, and it will be such
fun on wet days when we can't go out."

"I never expected another present from Aunt Louisa," said Sylvia. "She
gave me that writing case when I came, and Cuthbert the pencil box,
the one I gave to Sadie Thompson, you know."

"I wish she were my aunt," said Marian; "I should think she's nice."

"She is generally, but it was she who made Father and Mother send me
here, and I didn't want to come in the least."

"Why, but you're glad now, aren't you? Everybody likes being at Miss
Kaye's."

"Yes, I'm very glad, though I'm looking forward immensely to Christmas
and going home. I wonder what's inside this smallest parcel. O