narrative in a heightened voice--

"--Was laid in her arms, and her husband suggested `Ermyntrude'; she
shuddered, and murmured softly, `Hannah--_plain_ Hannah!' and plain
Hannah she has been ever since!"

A splutter of laughter greeted this _denouement_, for in truth Hannah
Vernon was not distinguished for her beauty, being one of the plainest,
and at the same time the most good-natured of girls.

Lavender cried eagerly--

"Go on! Make up some more," but Clemence from the dignity of seventeen
years felt bound to protest--

"I don't think you--_ought_! It's not your business. Mrs Vernon's a
friend, and she wouldn't be pleased. To talk behind her back--"

"All right," agreed Darsie swiftly. "Let's crack nuts!"

Positively she left one breathless! One moment poised on imaginary
flights, weaving stories from the baldest materials, drawing allegories
of the lives of her friends, the next--an irresponsible wisp, with no
thought in the world but the moment's frolic; but whatever might be the
fancy of the moment she drew her companions after her with the magnetism
of a born leader.

In the twinkling of an eye the scene was changed, the Vernons with their
peculiarities were consigned to the limbo of forgotten things, while
boys and girls squatted on the rug scrambling for nuts out of a paper
bag, and cracking them with their teeth with monkey-like agility.

"How many can you crack at a time? Bet you I can crack more than you!"
cried Darsie loudly.

CHAPTER TWO.

THE TELEGRAPH STATION.

The Garnetts' house stood at the corner of Sandon Terrace, and possessed
at once the advantages and drawbacks of its position. The advantages
were represented by three bay windows, belonging severally to the
drawing-room, mother's bedroom, and the play-room on the third floor.
The bay windows at either end of the Terrace bestowed an architectural
finish to its flattened length, and from within allowed of extended
views up and down the street. The drawback lay in the position of the
front door, which stood round the corner in a side street, on which
abutted the gardens of the houses of its more aristocratic neighbour,
Napier Terrace. Once, in a moment of unbridled temper, Vie Vernon had
alluded to the Garnett residence as being located "at our back door,"
and though she had speedily repented, and apologised, even with tears,
the sting remained.

Apart from the point of inferiority, however, the position had its
char