suppose she'll mind. We shan't do it any
harm." And she trundled the little barrow out of the shed and wheeled
it to the farther end of the back carriage drive, where she thought
they might find some stones.

Heathercliffe House had the most delightful garden. In front were two
large lawns, an upper one used for croquet and a lower one for
tennis. Between the two was a rosery where a great many beautiful
roses were still blooming, although it was now October.

"On Miss Kaye's birthday," said Linda, "we always make her a garland
and put it on her head. She laughs, but she wears it for a little
while and it looks so nice."

The front carriage drive was well rolled and kept very neatly, but the
back one was just like a country lane; there were thick trees on each
side with grass and wild flowers growing between, and in a corner near
the gate was a small disused quarry, with high, rocky sides covered
with gorse bushes and long brambles. Linda could not have chosen a
better place to find stones; there were any number lying about, and
though they were not white ones, they were a very light grey colour.
There were a few blackberries still remaining on the brambles, but the
ripest hung far out of reach and were quite impossible to pick, though
Sylvia scratched herself in a vain attempt.

"It's no use. I'd best give them up and stick to the stones," she
said. "If we ever go down to the beach we might bring back some shells
too. Do you find any here?"

"Yes, lots, at one particular place, pink and white and yellow ones.
They'd look pretty as an edging, but it would take a fearful long time
to fetch enough to go far. I expect we shall need a great many barrows
of stones before we can make both our names. I wouldn't pick up too
small ones if I were you. There, I can't possibly wheel any more, so
we'd better start."

The barrow was heavy and they took it in turns. It seemed a long way
all round the back drive, through the rosery, and along the apple-tree
avenue till they reached their own garden and tipped the stones down
in a heap. A very small pile it looked, too, only sufficient for about
three letters, and they sighed to think of the number of journeys that
would be needed before their great scheme was complete. Off they went
again, however, to the quarry and refilled the barrow as fast as they
could.

"There can't be very much time before dinner," said Linda, "though I
haven't heard the first bell yet. We must get on a