king,
but I am quite sure it is for you."

There was a dead silence. Miss Sakers and Eliza both blushed. Then Miss
Sakers said, without looking at me, "I think you are mistaken."

I felt so sure that I was mistaken that I blushed, too.

Eliza hurriedly hid her work in the work-basket, and said, "It is very
close in here. Let me show you round our little garden."

They both went out, without taking any notice of me. Not having had
much tea, I cut myself another slice of cake. While I was in the middle
of it, Miss Sakers and Eliza came back, and Miss Sakers said good-bye
to me very coldly. I offered to raise my bazaar donation to ten
shillings, but she did not seem to have heard me.

* * * * *

"How could you say that?" said Eliza, when Miss Sakers had gone. "It
was most tactless--and not very nice."

"I thought you were doing something for the bazaar. What were you
making, then?"

She did not actually tell me, but she implied it in a delicate way.

"Well," I said, "of course I wouldn't have called attention to it if I
had known, but I don't think you ought to have been doing that work
when Miss Sakers was here."

"I've no time to waste, and I always make mine myself. I was most
careful to keep them hidden. You are very tactless."

"I don't think much of that Miss Sakers," I said. "Why should we go to
this expense," pointing to the cakes, "for a woman of that kind?"

THE ORCHESTROME

The orchestrome was on Lady Sandlingbury's stall at the bazaar. Her
ladyship came up to Eliza in the friendliest way, and said, "My dear
lady, I am convinced that you need an orchestrome. It's the sweetest
instrument in the world, worth at least five pounds, and for one
shilling you have a chance of getting it. It is to be raffled." Eliza
objects, on principle, to anything like gambling; but as this was for
the Deserving Inebriates, which is a good cause, she paid her shilling.
She won the orchestrome, and I carried it home for her.

* * * * *

Six tunes were given with the orchestrome; each tune was on a slip of
perforated paper, and all you had to do was to put in a slip and touch
the spring.

We tried it first with "The Dandy Coloured Coon." It certainly played
something, but it was not right. There was no recognizable tune about
it.

"This won't do at all," I said.

"Perhaps that tune's got bent or something," said Eliza. "Put