in a house by
myself and it's lonely if you're only going on fourteen," faltered Mary
Rose, fully conscious that Mrs. Bracken did not care for canaries.

"Well, I can't have her in my kitchen. She makes me nervous. Put her
out in the hall and shut the bedroom door. When you have washed the
dishes I may let you make a cup of tea." And she closed the black eyes
which had looked at Mary Rose in such a chilly way.

Mary Rose went out on tiptoe. She meant to close the door softly but
she was so indignant that it would slam. Put her Jenny Lind out in the
hall where cats could get her? She would not. Even if cats were
forbidden to enter the Washington some cat might not know the law and
slip in. She would take no risk. She nodded encouragingly at the bird
as she looked about the kitchen. Near the sink was an open cupboard
with three shelves, broad and high enough to hold a birdcage. She
would put the cage on the lowest shelf and then if Mrs. Bracken came
out, she would push the door shut.

"You'd better go to sleep too, Jenny Lind," she cautioned in a low
voice. "The lady doesn't like you. She thinks you're noisy." She did
not tell Jenny Lind what she thought of the lady, but shut her lips
firmly and began her work. She did not sing that morning. She did not
even look up to smile and nod to Jenny Lind, but kept her eyes on her
dishes, her lips pressed into an indignant red button.

Suddenly there was a whir--a rattle--and she did look up to see that
the cupboard had vanished. Shelves and birdcage had all disappeared.
Nothing was left but a vacant space and an open door. Mary Rose
dropped the dish she held. Fortunately it was a kitchen bowl, but it
would have been the same if it had been one of the best cups.

[Illustration: "Shelves and birdcage had all disappeared."]

"Why--why!" gasped Mary Rose. She tried to put her head in the space
where the shelves had been to see where Jenny Lind had gone.

"Jenny Lind!" she shrieked suddenly. She could not help it. If your
pet canary was suddenly snatched from you by some mysterious power, I
rather fancy you would shriek, too. "Jenny Lind!"

The crash of the kitchen bowl or Mary Rose's astonished shriek brought
Mrs. Bracken from her bed. She stood in the doorway, one hand
clutching the kimono she had thrown around her.

"You must be more quiet," she said crossly. "How can I sleep when you
are making such a noise? And if you break any more dishes I sh