ng aloud to them a letter she had received that
morning from a sailor cousin. Would she never go away? It was too
tiresome of her to confide in them at such an inappropriate time.

"Don't let us keep you, if you want to play tennis," begged Lindsay,
with cold politeness.

"Oh, I don't mind at all, thank you! I thought you'd be interested to
hear about Cousin Cyril," replied Marjorie.

Lindsay wished sincerely that Cousin Cyril had been at the bottom of the
sea, instead of sailing over it and writing long descriptions of its
charms. The precious moments were passing by. She could hear the gentle
swish of the water as Scott applied the hose; if they were not quick, he
would have finished, and the opportunity would be gone.

"I believe Miss Russell is coming out to play croquet to-night," she
ventured desperately.

"Is she? Oh! she promised I might be on her side next time. I wonder if
she's there yet? I must go and see at once."

"Thank goodness!" ejaculated Lindsay, as their classmate's blue-linen
dress disappeared along the avenue. "Now, I'm going to put this heavy
stone on the hose pipe, just where it goes through the hedge. Then we'll
both creep through that hole into the kitchen-garden."

Without wasting another minute, Lindsay hastily did as she had said,
concealing the stone among the long grass, after which both girls
crawled through the hedge into the midst of a bed of Jerusalem
artichokes. As they had expected, their plot answered admirably. Scott
gave a grunt of vexation, and looked at his hose. His water supply had
undoubtedly failed him. He stumped away, grumbling, to examine the tank.

"I don't believe he'll ever look amongst the grass. He'll think
something's wrong with the tap," chuckled Lindsay.

The moment Scott had vanished through the gate, they dashed (regardless
of the artichokes!) in the direction of the frames. Lindsay slid her
hands rapidly in a search under the large, vine-like leaves; and Cicely,
armed with a trowel, began to dig furiously. All in vain! Though they
prodded the soil with sticks they could not feel anything particularly
solid underneath, and there was no time to make very deep excavations.

"He's coming back!" panted Lindsay. "Smooth the earth over in that
corner, and place that leaf to hide it. Quick, or he'll catch us! Don't
go through the artichokes; we must run the other way!"

CHAPTER XV

Hide-and-Seek

The July days literally flew, and the term was dra