ases--"

"Boxes of French bonbons, belts, scarfs--"

"Cigarettes, brushes--"

"Nice little bits of jewellery--"

Suggestions poured in thick and fast, and Mrs Percival jotted them down
on a little gold and ivory tablet which hung by her side unperturbed by
what seemed to Darsie the reckless extravagance of their nature. It was
most exciting talking over the arrangements for the hunt; most agreeable
and soothing to be constantly referred to in the character of author and
praised for cleverness and originality. Darsie entirely forgot the wave
of depression which had threatened to upset her composure a few minutes
before, forgot for the time being the suspense and danger of the earlier
afternoon.

Some one else, it appeared, however, was more remindful, for when she
prepared to depart the dog-cart stood at the door, and Ralph announced
in his most grand seigneur manner--

"We're going to drive you back, don't you know! Too awfully fagging to
bicycle on a hot afternoon. Put on your hats, girls, and hurry up."

The girls obediently flew upstairs, and Darsie's protestation of "My
bicycle!" was silenced with a word.

"The stable-boy shall ride it over to-morrow morning. You're a bit
jumpy still and can't be allowed to run any risks. I mean to see you
safely back in your aunt's charge."

Darsie scrambled up to her high seat and leaned back thereon with an
agreeable sense of importance.

"I feel like a cat that's been stroked," she said to herself, smiling.
"When you're one of a large family you are not used to fussing. It's
most invigorating! I'd like to go in for a long course!"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE TREASURE HUNT.

The invitations for the garden-party arrived in due course: one for Lady
Hayes, another for Miss Darsie Garnett, and in the corner of each,
beside the name of a celebrated military band, appeared the magic words
"_Treasure Hunt_." Darsie felt something of the proud interest of the
author who beholds in print the maiden effort of his brain, as she gazed
upon those words, and reflected that but for her own suggestion they
would never have appeared. Lady Hayes also seemed to feel a reflected
pride in her niece's ingenuity, which pride showed itself in a most
agreeable anxiety about the girl's toilette for the occasion.

After a survey of the few simple dresses which composed Darsie's
wardrobe, it was pronounced that nothing was suitable for garden-party
wear, and a dressmaker was summ