been fixed in one part of the garden, and as the drama of
Punch drew to an end, its interest found a serious rival in the
spectacle of piled plates of cake. But there was to intervene nearly
half-an-hour before the tea-urns were ready to make an appearance. The
skipping-ropes came into requisition outside, but in the house was
proceeding simultaneously a rather more serious pastime, which fell to
Ida's share to carry out. Choosing the little girl whose face was the
dirtiest and hair the untidiest of any she could see, she led her
gently away to a place where a good bowl of warm water and plenty of
soap were at hand, and, with the air of bestowing the greatest kindness
of all, fell to work to such purpose that in a few minutes the child
went back to the garden a resplendent being, positively clean and kempt
for the first time in her life.

"I know you'll feel uncomfortable for a little, dear," Ida said,
dismissing the astonished maiden with a kiss, "but the strangeness will
wear off; and you'll see how much nicer it is."

One after another, all were dealt with in this way, presently with a
good-natured servant-girl's assistance, as time pressed. The result was
that a transformed company sat down to tea. The feeling wore off, as
Ida said, but at first cleanliness meant positive discomfort, taking
the form of loss of identity and difficulty of mutual recognition. They
looked at their hands, and were amazed at the whiteness that had come
upon them; they kept feeling their faces and their ordered hair. But
the appetite of one and all was improved by the process.

"How I wish Mr. Waymark was here!" Ida said to her grandfather, as they
stood together, watching the feast. "He would enjoy it. We must give
him a full account to-morrow, mustn't we?"

"I forgot," replied the other. "I had a note from him this morning,
saying he thought he shouldn't be able to come."

The first shadow of disappointment which this day had brought fell upon
the girl's countenance. She made no reply, and presently went to help
one or the youngest children, who had spilt her tea and was in evident
distress.

After tea the organ struck up again, and again there was dancing on the
lawn. Then a gathering of flowers by Ida and Miss Hurst, and one given
to each of the children, with injunctions to put it in water on
reaching home, and keep it as long as possible in memory of the day.
Already the sun was westering, and Litany Lane must be reached befor