shed the rack, and Kat heard him remark, that she had daubed
enough paint on one knob, to do for half the rack. It didn't make her
feel any better.

In her zeal to get the parlors clean, Bea had climbed the step-ladder to
wash some ancient dust from the top of the folding doors, but the ladder
tilted, and over she went soap suds and all; and in answer to a wailing
cry, the rescuing family once more put in an appearance, to find that
the cleanly heroine, had wrenched her ankle, and could not step on it,
but must be carried to the sitting-room, to have the afflicted member
rubbed with arnica.

"I tried to jump," she explained with pathetic rivers of tears. "Oh
dear, what shall I do? I can't go to the picnic--nor have the
company--nor anything--and I think it's too b-b-ad."

"Perhaps it is not so serious," said Mrs. Dering, with comfort in her
voice, and in her swift careful fingers that were binding the swollen
ankle in cool bands. "You will have to be perfectly still, and by
Wednesday, I think it will be well; it is only a little twist, so don't
feel so cast down dear." But Bea refused to be comforted, and sobbed
herself to sleep that night. Not to go to the picnic, when Dr. Barnett
had asked her to go in the phaeton with them, oh, it was too bad,
surely!

Beyond hammering one of her fingers, till the nail swelled up with
insulted feeling, and threatened to come off, nothing happened to
Kittie, who considered herself specially blessed, and did her whole head
up in papers on Monday night, so as to be sure and have it curl for
Wednesday.

When Tuesday arrived, Bea had sunk to the lowest ebb. She knew she
couldn't go, and there was no use talking. She was the most unfortunate
girl that ever lived, and no one could deny it; and after making this
assertion numberless times during the day, she gave up and cried
despondingly, giving herself full freedom as she was alone; and so it
happened that a young man came up the walk, and finding the front door
open, came in, and a moment later, stood transfixed at the sitting-room
threshold, to behold that utterly crushed looking figure on the lounge,
with dishevelled hair, and hidden face; while the most heart-broken sobs
crept out from behind a drenched handkerchief. No wonder he was alarmed,
or that his voice trembled when he asked:

"What is the matter--what has happened?"

Bea nearly fell off the lounge in dismay, and only gave him one brief,
startled glimpse of her wet fac