"You are the greatest goose!" said Marian scornfully. "You don't mean to say you believe that silly rubbish? We shouldn't be allowed to talk to our cook at home if she told us such nonsense. You'd better not let Miss Kaye see you throwing salt over your shoulder, or crossing the water when you wash with anybody." "You always make fun of everything I do," exclaimed Nina plaintively. "Then you should have more sense," snapped Marian, who prided herself upon being strong-minded. "Sylvia has a pretty name at any rate," continued Nina, "and so have I. I shouldn't like to be called Marian; it's just like Mary Ann." But as Marian wisely took no notice, and walked away, the shot fell rather flat. The parcel post came in at half-past ten, and brought several bulky-looking packages addressed to "Miss S. Lindsay". Sylvia bore them off to the playroom and untied the strings before an audience of sympathetic girls, each of whom was almost as interested as if the birthday had been her own. "Which shall I open first?" she said. "This one feels nice, and it's in Mother's writing, too. Lend me your scissors, Marian, that's a dear. I can't unfasten this knot. Oh, look! Exactly what I wanted." And she drew from a cardboard box a charming little Brownie camera with several rolls of films quite ready to use. "How delightful!" she cried. "Now I can take snapshots of you all, and the house, and Miss Kaye, and everything. I'll send them home to Father to develop; he's very clever at photos." "You won't be able to take snaps in this dark weather," said Hazel. "I don't expect you can do much with it until spring. I took some last autumn, and they were so faint you couldn't tell what they were meant for." "Well, she can try, at any rate," said Linda. "Perhaps she can manage a time exposure if she puts the camera on something steady, and get a group of the whole class in the garden. What's in the next parcel?" It proved to be a copy of the _Talisman_, with "Sylvia Lindsay, from her loving Father", written inside--a welcome present, as Sylvia was collecting Scott, and was glad to have an addition to her number of volumes. "This is a child's writing," said Marian, taking up a small packet, addressed in a round, rather shaky-looking hand. "Shall I cut the string for you?" "Really, Marian! Let her open her own parcels. They're her presents," said Linda. "And my scissors," returned Marian. "I only wanted to help her. Oh! That's pretty!" she exclaimed as Sylvia unwrapped a purse made of mother-of-pearl with a gilt clasp and lined with crimson silk. On a half-sheet of notepaper was written: "With best wishes for your birthday from Effie and May". "How kind of them to send me anything!" said Sylvia. "They never have done before. I suppose it's because I'm at school. I really am in luck this time."