ed her shoelaces with
elaborate care and deliberation.

"Don't be all day over that," said Miss Teddington, who passed by but
did not wait.

The moment she was round the corner of the road, and the high hedge
screened her from view, the three deserters were through the gate and
running across the field. They scaled a wall without much difficulty,
and found themselves on a wide gorse-grown pasture. Though they could
not now see the chimneys of The Woodlands in the distance, there were
other landmarks quite sufficient to guide them. They plodded on
cheerfully.

"It would be prime to have our snowdrops all packed up before the
others got back," ventured Hattie. "They'd be so surprised. They'd
wonder how we'd stolen a march on them."

"If Teddie asks where we were, we can truly say 'at the front'," Winnie
giggled.

"You'd better not pick up any nature specimens, though, or she'll want
to know 'the exact locality' where you found them."

"Um--yes! That might be awkward. This toadstool shall stay on its native
heath, in case it tells tales."

It was rather a fascinating walk, all amongst the gorse-bushes. None of
the three had been there before, and instinctively the younger ones left
Rona to lead the way. Her bump of locality had been well developed in
New Zealand, so she strode on with confidence. But the ground shelved
down suddenly, revealing a natural feature upon which they had not
counted, a fairly wide brook, running between sandy banks. Here indeed
was an obstacle. Winnie and Hattie stared at it with blank faces and
groaned.

"We'd forgotten the wretched Llanelwyn stream. What atrocious luck!
Don't believe there's the ghost of a bridge anywhere. Shall we have to
go back?"

"I'm not going back," declared Rona sturdily. "There must be some way of
getting over it some where. Come along and we'll prospect."

"Oh, for the wings of a dove!" sighed Hattie. "Even those of the
raggedest sparrow would be welcome."

"Better wish yourself a fish, for you may have to try swimming," grunted
Winnie.

"I can't swim--not a stroke! You'll suggest I shall jump it next, I
suppose. Look here, we shall have to go back. There's nothing else for
it. Rona! Corona Mitchell! Corona Margarita! Cuckoo! Where've you gone
to?"

"Coo--ee!" came in reply from the distance, and presently Rona appeared
beckoning vigorously.

"We're--going--back," shouted Hattie.

"No, no! Come along here."

Anxious to see if she had found any s