THE SALE OF ANTIQUITIES
"I hope it's nothing to do with the Wouldbegoods?"
"No," said Denny in a hurry: "quite the opposite."
"I hope it's nothing wrong," said Dora and Daisy together.
"It's—it's 'Hail to thee, blithe spirit—bird thou never wert," said Denny. "I mean, I think it's what is called a lark."
"You never know your luck. Go on, Dentist," said Dick.
"Well, then, do you know a book called The Daisy Chain?"
We didn't.
"It's by Miss Charlotte M. Yonge," Daisy interrupted, "and it's about a family of poor motherless children who tried so hard to be good, and they were confirmed, and had a bazaar, and went to church at the Minster, and one of them got married and wore black watered silk and silver ornaments. So her baby died, and then she was sorry she had not been a good mother to it. And—"
Here Dicky got up and said he'd got some snares to attend to, and he'd receive a report of the Council after it was over. But he only got as far as the trap-door, and then Oswald, the fleet of foot, closed with him, and they rolled together on the floor—while all the others called out "Come back! Come back!" like guinea-hens on a fence.
Through the rustle and bustle and hustle of
207
