jolly times, even if it does rain. You can't expect it always to keep fine, and as for"
"Oh, Norah, don't preach! We must have our growls—it lets off steam. I think it's the wretchedest, miserablest, detestablest, most altogether sickening afternoon that ever was—there!"
"If only something would happen, just to cheer us up a little!" said Lennie Chapman, opening the window rather wider and putting her head out into the rain.
"What do you want to happen?"
"Why, something exciting, of course—something interesting and jolly, and out of the common, to wake us up and make things more lively."
"You'll fall out of the window if you lean over like that, and that would be lively, in all conscience, if you were picked up in fragments. Come in; you're getting your hair wet."
"Let me alone! I shan't! I say, what's that? There's a cab turning in at the gate; it's coming up the drive!"
Five extra heads immediately poked themselves out of the window regardless of the rain, for the Juniors' sitting-room commanded an excellent view both of the carriage drive and of the front steps.
"It is a cab!" murmured Dilys excitedly.
It certainly was a cab, just an ordinary station four-wheeler, with a box on the top of it, bearing the initials G. L. painted in large white letters. As the vehicle came nearer they could see a girl's face inside, and—yes, she apparently caught sight of the row of
