get
them you'll have to take them from under Elaine's nose."

Full of wrath, Marjorie had nevertheless to make the best of it. The
woman had vanished from the garden, and Elaine was calling to them that
tea was ready in Leonard's bedroom. The invalid had a splendid appetite,
and, as his nurse did not consider that he ought to be rationed, the
home-made war buns disappeared rapidly.

"It's top-hole picnicking here with you girls," he announced. "Wouldn't
some of our fellows at the front be green with envy if they only knew!"

Marjorie was distant with Dona all the way to the Red Cross Hospital,
but recovered her temper during the ten minutes spent with Larry. They
were not allowed to stay long, as it was out of visiting hours, though
Elaine had obtained special permission from the Commandant for them to
call and say good-bye to him. Still laughing at his absurd jokes, they
rejoined Hodson, and set off along the road over the moor. As they
neared the cove they looked out anxiously to see if Eric were at the
usual trysting-place, but there was no sign of him to-day. They sat down
and waited, thinking that the long perambulator had probably been
wheeled into Whitecliffe, and had not yet returned. In about ten minutes
Lizzie came hurrying up alone.

"I've run all the way!" she panted. "He got your letter, did Eric, and
he was that set on coming, but he's very ill to-day and must stop in
bed. He's just fretting his heart out because he can't say good-bye to
you. He'll say nothing all the time but 'I want my fairy ladies--I want
my fairy ladies!' His ma said she wondered if you'd mind coming in for a
minute just to see him. It's not far. It would soothe him down
wonderful."

"Why, of course we'll go," exclaimed the girls with enthusiasm. "Poor
little chap! What a shame he's ill!"

"I hope it's nothing infectious?" objected Hodson, mindful of her
duties.

"Oh no! It's his heart," answered Lizzie. "He's got a lot of different
things the matter with him, and has had ever so many doctors," she added
almost proudly.

She led the way briskly to the little village of Sandside. Where did
Eric live, the girls were asking themselves. They had always wondered
where his home could be. To their amazement Lizzie stopped at the "Royal
George" inn, and motioned them to enter. Hodson demurred. She was an
ardent teetotaller, and also she doubted if Mrs. Trafford would approve
of her nieces visiting at a third-rate public-house.

"Wa