beads and some bangles. "I've a pile
of old story books I've done with. I expect those First Form kids would
like them. And I've some chalks and a drawing slate."

"And I've an almost new blotter, and some Indian curios, and some
foreign stamps, and a very good post-card album, and a quite new
birthday book."

"That Kate Greenaway one? Oh! you promised to give it to _me_!"
exclaimed Monica.

"You've got two of your own already!"

"I don't care! I want this as well."

"Then buy it at the sale."

"No, I'm going to get Jill's box of pastels and Miriam's autograph
album. I've bagged them in advance. Tibbiekins, I _must_ have that
birthday book!"

"You can't, Cuckoo! Don't be greedy!"

"But you _promised_!"

"Well, I can't help it if I did, and I don't remember promising,
anyway. That birthday book's going down to the sale, and if you want it,
you'll just have to buy it. There!"

"You mean thing!" blazed Monica. "Just because you're head girl, you
think you can do as you like. Keep your old birthday book, and sell it
to anybody you can. _I_ shan't buy it! But I'll pay you out for
this--see if I don't! I think you're perfectly hateful, Lorraine! I wish
you'd go away to a boarding school, or to a college like Rosemary. I
don't want you here at home, anyway!"

"All right, draw it mild!" said Lorraine, who was well accustomed to her
younger sister's outbursts of temper.

"You really did promise poor Cuckoo that Kate Greenaway birthday book,"
remarked Mrs. Forrester later in the evening.

"I can't remember anything at all about it, Mother," said Lorraine
impatiently. "Cuckoo makes such an absurd fuss. Surely she might be
ready to give up something for the prisoners of war. It's not good for
her always to get her own way! She's really so absurdly spoilt!"

"Somebody else likes her own way occasionally!" suggested Mrs.
Forrester, with uplifted eyebrows.

"Well, you can't say I'm spoilt! The middle girl never is. It's Rosemary
and Monica who get all the attention in this family!" declared Lorraine,
flouncing out of the room in a state of mind bordering on rebellion.

She wrapped up the birthday book in white tissue paper, and packed it
the first of all her articles for the sale. The best of us have our
faults, and there was a strain of obstinacy in Lorraine's disposition.
She and Monica had waged war before this, on occasion. They did not
speak to each other at supper.

"What a nice, cheerful thing it is to ha