So Dennis and Maisie had to content themselves with seeing the wagon pass through the village, and knowing that Becky was in it. The next day Tuvvy stopped on his way home to say that she was not much tired, and doing finely, and Mrs Solace would be glad if Miss Maisie and Master Dennis would call in to see her. It was most provoking after this, that quite suddenly, following weeks of fine bright weather, the rain began, and would not leave off. Day after day one steady downpour: streaming window-panes, great puddles in the garden paths, grey sky, and wet green leaves. "_Isn't_ it unlucky for Becky?" said Maisie, looking out of the play-room window at the dreary dripping scene. "She won't be able to go out at all." "It's unlucky for every one," answered Dennis. "Mr Solace doesn't want rain with nearly all his hay down." Maisie's eyes were fixed on the grass-plot beneath the window, where a company of starlings were busily engaged digging for worms and grubs. "It isn't unlucky for quite every one," she remarked; "the birds like it." "But the worms don't," added Dennis quickly. Maisie was silent. She had a tender heart, but she disliked worms very much, and was always filled with disgust and fear when she dug them up in her little garden. She could not feel quite so sorry for them as she did for other things in trouble. "There's one good thing," resumed Dennis, after a little silence, "it _can't_ go on raining much longer, because of Mrs Solace's strawberry party. It's certain to clear up in time for that." Maisie agreed. "But," she added with a sigh, "that's a whole week off, and I do so want to see how Becky and the kitten are getting on."