"Oh! Of course!" exclaimed Frances. "That's what the tweezers are for!" Undoubtedly it was, for, with the help of the tweezers, Frances very soon caught a bubble and popped it into her mouth. Margaret, watching her, saw her eyes sparkle and a look of pleased surprise come over her face. "That tastes, does it?" she asked. For half a minute Frances did not reply; all she said was, "M-m-m," keeping her lips shut tight as though to let none of the taste escape; but presently she opened her mouth and said: "Yes, that tastes. It's the very nicest thing I ever did taste: like--let me see--like pine-apple and strawberry jam and--and--I can't think what else. Wait till I try another. There are five left. I'll take two more and leave the rest for you." So saying, she caught two more bubbles and then passed over the glass to Margaret, who, in turn, passed over the half-finished lemonade to her sister. As she did so, she saw an odd expression come over Frances' face. "What's the matter?" she asked. "I don't know," replied Frances. "I don't think there's anything the matter, but I have such a funny feeling--just as if I didn't weigh anything. I feel as if I wanted to get up and fly." "Try, then," suggested Margaret. "Perhaps you can if you try. Try." Frances, rather gingerly, got out of her chair, gave a flap with her arms and a little stamp with both feet, and up to the ceiling she went like a feather. It was a high ceiling, but she went up far enough to touch it with her fingers, when she began gently floating down again, her dress standing out all around like a pink umbrella. She looked so comical, with her elbows tucked into her sides and her fingers spread out, her lips puckered up and her eyebrows raised, that Margaret could not help laughing. "Oh, what fun!" she cried, seizing the tweezers and the glass of aëro-plane water. "I'm coming too. Can you wait there, Frances?" [Illustration: _Began gently floating down again_] "No, I can't," replied her sister, who was now down about the level of the tops of the pictures. "I'm coming down all the time. And if I were you, Margaret," she added hastily, "I'd only take two of those bubbles--or one. I'm rather _too_ light. It's a good thing I didn't take all six of them or I might have gone straight up to the ceiling and had to stay there, crawling about like a fly. I wonder if--hand me the lemonade, will you?"