. Mrs. Corey didn't resent
this decree, but she was greatly pained at the necessity therefor.

"I don't know what to do with Hester," she said, sadly. "The child has
always been subject to those ungovernable rages. I hope she will outgrow
them. I feel sorry for her, for it is not really her fault. She tries to
be more patient, and sometimes succeeds; then suddenly her temper breaks
out at most unexpected moments."

Mr. Bryant did not say what he thought; that Hester was a spoiled child,
and that had her mother taught her how sinful such a temper was, she
could have learned to control it, at least, to a degree.

But he said that the Maynards could not allow Hester to come to Sand
Court any more, unless with the thorough understanding and agreement
that Ruth was to be a member of the Sand Club, and that Marjorie was to
be Queen again. He said that Hester had forfeited all right to be Queen,
and that as Midget practically formed the club, the right to be Queen
was hers.

Mrs. Corey agreed to all this, expressed great chagrin that Hester had
acted so rudely, and promised to talk to the child and try to induce a
better spirit of kindness and good comradeship.

And Cousin Jack went away, feeling that he had served the little
Maynards a good turn, if it had been a difficult and unpleasant duty to
perform.

CHAPTER XVIII

A FINE GAME

One Saturday morning, the Maynards and the Bryants sat on the veranda of
"Maynard Manor," and every one of them was gazing at the sky.

"It will,--I know it will," said Mrs. Maynard, hopelessly.

"It won't,--I know it won't!" exclaimed Marjorie, smiling at her mother.

"It's bound to," declared Cousin Jack, "and there's no use thinking it
won't!"

Of course, they were talking about the rain, which hadn't yet begun to
fall, but which, judging from the ominous gray sky and black clouds,
would soon do so.

"Yep, there are the first drops now!" cried King, as some black spots
suddenly appeared on the veranda steps.

"Yep! that settles it!" Marjorie agreed, "we'll have to give up the
trip. What can we do, nice, instead?"

They had planned an all-day motor trip. Mr. Maynard was always at home
on Saturdays, and he liked nothing better than to take his family and
friends for a ride.

"The nicest thing just now would be to scoot indoors!" said Cousin Jack,
as the drops came faster and thicker, and a gust of wind sent the rain
dashing at them.

So they all scurried into the ho