ome peace and quiet there at any rate. Take your
wretched book!" (flinging _Little Women_ at Una). "How was _I_ to know
who was reading it? Why can't Magsie be quiet. I can hear that hinnying
laugh of hers all over the house."

At that moment Regina did not at all resemble "The Blessed Damozel". She
seemed very far away indeed from "the gold bar of Heaven". Lesbia seized
her friend by the arm and whispered something into her ear. The
storm-clouds cleared from Regina's face.

"Go a walk? Just by ourselves?" she replied, in the same undertone. "I'd
adore it if _you_ would. I vote we do. Only don't let all this tribe
find out. Mum's the word."

"We'll wangle ourselves off quietly," agreed Lesbia.

It was a desperately bad afternoon for outdoor exercise. There was a
strong cold wind, and the rain was absolutely pelting down. For the sake
of change, however, the girls would have braved a blizzard. There is a
certain stage of wet-weather ennui which becomes absolutely
insupportable. They put on mackintoshes, old hats, and tall rubber
boots, then sneaked out by the back door to avoid being seen by the rest
of the family. They had only gone a few hundred yards when there was a
sound of racing footsteps behind them, and they were caught up by the
Stripling, also attired ready to face the elements.

"Derrick! Who told _you_ to come?" inquired his sister inhospitably.

The boy grinned.

"Pendry gave me a hint, so I thought I'd clear out too, and leave the
kids to fight over their Meccano. It's a ripping idea of yours. Where
are you going?"

"Just a walk _by ourselves_!" declared Regina, taking her friend's arm.

"Oh, _do_ let him come with us," pleaded Lesbia. "Why shouldn't we all
three go together and look at the waterfall? It will be grand on a day
like this."

"Two is company and three is none."

"The more the merrier, say I."

"Don't be a bluebottle, Regina. I tell you I'm coming, so that's the
long and the short of it," decided Derrick, taking Lesbia's other arm,
and beginning to tow the girls up hill. "We're the three graces, or the
three fates, or the three anything else you like. It's a lucky number."

"'When shall we three meet again, In thunder, lightning, or in rain?'"
quoted Regina, giving in for once.

[Illustration: NOT A TRACE OF DERRICK _Page 205_]

"Some rain certainly," agreed the Stripling cheerfully.

It was impossible to imagine a wetter day. The road was almost a
rivulet, and the ditches