y eggs they laid. Only three more days and they would all be
gone; the fowl-house would be empty, and there would be no white cock to
waken her in the morning with his cheerful crow.

There seemed no chance now that the gypsies would be discovered, for the
stir which the robbery had caused had quite quieted down. No other
theft had been heard of, and the village people had ceased to talk about
the affair, and settled their minds to the idea that the scamps had got
off to some great distance. Only Mary knew better.

The Chelwood children did not let the matter drop so lightly. They had
composed a game founded on the event, which they called "Robbers," and
were much disappointed when Mary steadily refused to join them in it,
for they had counted on her help in adding interesting details and
finishing touches. She seemed, however, to shudder at the very idea.

"I believe Mary's afraid," said Patrick jeeringly; but even this taunt
failed to rouse her. She took it quite quietly. What _could_ be the
matter with Mary?

"I shouldn't be a bit surprised," was Rice's remark, "if Miss Mary's
sickening for something."

The days flew past. Saturday now, and Mary came down to breakfast in a
state of dull despair.

"Mary, dear," said Mrs Vallance, smiling as she entered the room, "I
have just made a plan for you that you will like. Your father is going
to drive in to Dorminster, and you are to go with him and buy Jackie's
present."

She waited for the look of delight which she felt sure of seeing, for
she knew what Mary had set her heart on for Jackie--the squirrel out of
Greenop's shop.

Poor Mary! Her thoughts flew to the empty post-office upstairs. Not a
penny in it. No squirrel for Jackie, no drive to Dorminster for her.
As she remembered what a jolly little squirrel it was, what bright eyes
it had, what soft red-brown fur, and how Jackie would have liked it, her
heart swelled. Now, she must go to his birthday party empty-handed, and
it would have been the best present there.

With eyes full of tears and a scarlet flush on her cheeks she muttered
very low:

"I've changed my mind. I don't want to buy the squirrel."

"You don't want the squirrel!" repeated Mrs Vallance in great surprise.

"N-no," stammered Mary, and she put her head suddenly down on the table
and cried.

Mrs Vallance was much perplexed and very sorry for Mary's distress, for
she knew how she had looked forward to giving the squirrel to J