collection might be, it lived in heaps on the uncarpeted floor; and when Betty had a tidy fit, was covered with a crochet antimacassar which had known better days, and had grown decidedly mellow in tint.

On this particular afternoon, the two younger sisters were taking tea with school friends, while their elders enjoyed an uninterrupted tête-à-tête, when they could indulge in a favourite game. When life was unusually flat and prosaic, when the weather was wet, invitations conspicuous by their absence, and the want of pocket-money particularly poignant, Mollie would cry ardently: “Let’s be Berengaria and Lucille!” and, presto! the two girls were transplanted to another world—a world with the magic letter W added to its address, where empty purses and dyed dresses existed not, and all was joy, jewellery, and junketing.

Lucille had lately become the bride of a millionaire and adoring duke; the peerless Berengaria wrought havoc with the peace of Lord Arthur, and had more suitors than she could count on the fingers of both hands. It was a fascinating make-believe; but, as Ruth plaintively remarked, it did come with somewhat of a shock to be dragged back to earth by—socks!

She stood leaning against the mantelpiece, looking on with frowning brows while her sister collected together scattered materials, and carried them and the yawning basket back to the cosy corner in Fireland, where, for the hour, she was an invited guest.

“Quick’s the word and sharp’s the action!” cried Mollie cheerily. “Now for a grand old cobble; and if there are any heels out to-day, my fine young gentlemen, don’t blame me if you have to tread on knots for the rest of the week! It’s the strangest thing on earth that I can remember nice things year after year without an effort, and yet forget this horrid mending every Saturday as regularly as the day comes round.”

“Carelessness!” replied Ruth shortly, and with the candour of near relations. “I couldn’t forget if I tried. First thing when I wake in the morning I think of all the bothersome duties I have to do in the day, and the last thing at night I am thinking of them still. But you are so frivolous, Mollie!”

“And you are so morbid, my dear! You don’t offer to help me, I observe; and since you are so conscientious as all that, I should think you might lend me a hand in my extremity. There! I’ll give you Ransome’s for a treat; he breaks out at the toes, but his heels are intact. It’s playwork mending for him compared with the other boys.”

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