ance as one most
happily typical of the dear home life.

The programme was delicious. Vie discovered a great sheet of white
paper, left over from the parcel wrappings of the week before; Dan
printed the words in his most dashing fashion; John nailed it on the lid
of a packing-chest, and the whole party escorted it round the terrace to
the Garnett dwelling, and waited in the street beneath until it was
conveyed upstairs, and Lavender, discreetly swathed in a shawl, appeared
at her lighted window and waved a towel in triumph.

This was the programme--

On Wednesday Afternoon Next (_Weather permitting_)
In Aid of the Fund for Sick and Suffering Spinsters
A First Performance will be given of
The Blood-Curdling and Hair-Raising Melodrama entitled
The Blue Cabbage
by Allthelotofus.

_Dramatis Personae_.
Efflorescence (A Guileless Maid)--Miss Darsie Garnett.
Meretricia (1st Villainess)--Mr Harry Garnett.
Mycrobe (2nd Villainess)--Mr Russell Garnett.
Elijah B. Higgins (Hero)--Mr Dan Vernon.
Sigismund La Bas (A False Caitiff)--Mr Percy Lister.
D. Spenser (Certificated Poisonmonger)--Mr John Vernon.
Endeavora (A Well-Meaner)--Miss Clemence Garnett.
The Greek Chorus--Miss Hannah Vernon.

_N.B.--_There is no Cabbage!

Imagine the feelings of a solitary invalid on receipt of such a
programme as the above--a programme of an entertainment organised,
composed, and designed wholly and solely for her own amusement!
Lavender's mumps were at a painful stage--so sore, so stiff, so heavy,
that she felt all face, had no spirit to read, craved for companionship,
and yet shrank sensitively from observing eyes. Let those jeer who may,
it _is_ an abominable thing to feel a martyr, and look a clown, and poor
Lavender's sensitive nature suffered acutely from the position. Then
oh! it was good to feel that to-morrow something exciting was going to
happen--that she would be amused, cheered, comforted; that her dear
companions would be near her, so near that once again she would feel one
of the merry throng.

If only it were fine! Really and truly Lavender felt that she could not
support the blow if it were _wet_. Mumps seem to sap the constitution
of moral force; if she could not see the melodrama, she would weep like
a child!

It _was_ fine, however. The very elements conspired in her behalf, and
produced a still, unshiny day, when the pageant of the melodrama
appeared to the best advantage, and