careless heart. "Christ, the Captain!" To the
last day of the boy's life he never forgot those words, nor the picture
of the old soldier with his hand raised to the salute.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

BETTY AND CYNTHIA MEET.

"Jill, do you know where my green check blouse has gone? I can't find
it anywhere."

"How should I know? I haven't taken it--wouldn't be seen in the horrid
old thing! Why are you worrying if it has disappeared? I thought you
said the other day that it was too shabby to wear any more?"

"So I did, but I want the buttons to put on a new blouse. It was
hanging up in my cupboard last week."

"I expect it's there still, only you can't see it because it's hidden
away behind your dresses. What is far more important is my umbrella.
Somebody has eaten it, I believe--it's simply _gone_!"

"You have left it at school again. You are always losing your
umbrellas."

"People steal them, I suppose, because they are so beautiful! Alpaca--
three and eleven! Mother says it's no use giving me a silk because I'm
not careful. That's bad reasoning! I should be careful if I had a
silk. But it's not my fault this time. I know I brought it home,
because there was an apple inside it which Norah gave me in prep. I ate
it last night, and this morning the brolley has vanished. It's hard
lines, for I shall get a rowing if it doesn't turn up, and it isn't my
fault a bit."

"Oh, I expect you'll find it all right. It's so tiresome, because the
buttons exactly match this blouse, and I want it for Saturday," returned
Betty, too much absorbed in her own affairs to have any sympathy to
spare for Jill's loss. All the week long she lived in the thought of
Saturday, and when at long last the day arrived she could hardly wait
until three o'clock, so anxious was she to be at her post.

Mrs Vanburgh came to meet her at the door of the dining-room, looking
flushed and excited.

"Come in here!" she said. "We are beginning to set out the table, so
you are just in time. I want to have everything ready by the half-
hour."

"Who are `we,' I wonder?" was Betty's mental question as she crossed the
threshold, and the next moment brought with it a shock of surprise, for,
standing in the middle of the room, her hair shining like an aureola
round her head, stood no less a person than the Pampered Pet herself. A
plate of cakes was held in one hand, and a plate of bread-and-butter in
the other, and she stood stock still, st