XII. THE SECRET SOCIETY 153 XIII. A SPRING PICNIC 167 XIV. WHITWEEK WITH LINDA 181 XV. AN EXCURSION WITH A DONKEY 194 XVI. THE CHINESE CHARM 206 XVII. THE SKETCHING CLASS 220 XVIII. DR. SEVERN EXPLAINS 231 XIX. THE PRIZE GIVING 244 Illustrations Page "THE WHEELBARROW SUDDENLY SEEMED TO PLUNGE INTO THE GROUND" _Frontispiece_ 54 "SYLVIA WROTE HER FIRST LETTER HOME THAT EVENING" 60 "IN A FEW MINUTES A GRAND BLAZE WAS FLARING UP" 126 "HE ENTANGLED BOTH HER HAT AND HAIR IN A WILD-ROSE BUSH" 196 CHAPTER I A Wet-day Party Drip, drip, drip! The rain came pouring down on a certain September afternoon, turning the tennis lawn to a swamp, dashing the bloom off the roses, spoiling the geraniums, and driving even the blackbirds and thrushes to seek shelter inside the summer house. It was that steady, settled, hopeless rain that does not hold out the slightest promise of ever stopping; there was not a patch of blue to be seen in the sky sufficient to make the traditional seaman's jacket; several large black snails were crawling along the garden walk as if enjoying the bath; and the barometer in the hall, which started the day at "Set Fair", had now sunk below "Change", and showed no signs of intending to rise again. Curled up in a large armchair placed in the bow window of a well-furnished morning-room, a little girl of about eleven years old sat peering out anxiously at the weather. "It's far too wet!" she remarked cheerfully. "It never means to clear to-day, and it's four o'clock now. They can't possibly come, so I shall just settle down and enjoy myself thoroughly." She spoke aloud to herself, a habit often indulged in by solitary children, and, opening a copy of _Ivanhoe_, screwed herself round into an attitude of still greater comfort, and set to work to read with that utter disregard of outer happenings which marks the true lover of books. She was rather a pretty child; her features were good though the small face was pale and thin; her hair was fair and fluffy, and she had large hazel-grey eyes which looked so very dreamy sometimes that you could imagine their owner was apt to forget the commonplace surroundings of everyday life and live in a make-believe world that was all her own. Equally oblivious of the driving rain outside and the cosy scene within, Sylvia read on, so lost in her story that she did not even notice when the door opened and her mother entered the room. "Why, here you are, darling! I thought I should find you in Father's study. I'm so sorry it's such a dreadful day for your party."