ts of satisfaction that she
never gave a thought to the letter she had stuffed in her pocket:
indeed, in her excitement she had put it away so automatically that the
incident faded from her memory almost as soon as it happened. She rushed
into the house in a state of great exultation, to ask Miss Edith to
take charge of her orders, and put them away safely.

"A whole pound! Isn't it lovely? I shall buy a new camera, or perhaps a
bookcase like Hetty Hancock's; or I want a bracelet watch most fearfully
badly, and I expect I'll get some more money at Christmas that I could
put to it. What would you advise, Miss Edith?" she chattered.

"Wait till you go home and consult your mother," said Miss Edith. "What
a cold you've got, child! You oughtn't to have been running about the
garden. And this coat is much too thin. You must wear your thick one
now. Put this away in your wardrobe, to take home at Christmas."

"Mother said I needn't take my autumn clothes back with me," objected
Daisy. "It only crams up my boxes. She said they might as well be left
here."

"Very well. I'll put it away in my big cupboard until the spring. Here
are some cough lozenges, and I shall rub your chest to-night with
camphorated oil. Go and sit by the fire, and mind you don't get into
draughts."

"I've got all my birthday letters to answer," replied Daisy, as she
tripped gaily away. "I don't particularly want to go out again."

Miss Edith folded the coat neatly, placed a packet of camphor balls with
it to keep away moths, and laid it with a pile of similar garments
inside a large cupboard in the linen room. It never struck her to look
in the pockets, so the letter so longed for and expected lay upstairs
in the dark, and Gipsy waited and hoped, and hoped and waited, all in
vain.

To forget her troubles she threw herself with enthusiasm into the
working of the Dramatic Section of the Lower School Guild. The Juniors
intended to act _The Sleeping Beauty_, and she had been chosen as the
wicked fairy, a part which she rehearsed with much spirit. She was
unwearied in her efforts at arranging costumes, constructing scenery,
and coaching her fellow performers in their speeches. She soon had the
whole play by heart, and could act prompter without the help of the
book--a decided convenience to those whose memories were liable to fail
them at critical moments.

Though the Guild comprised a number of separate societies, it lacked one
feature which Gipsy co