gan hemming strips of muslin to be made into those starched cap-strings which were tied so jauntily beneath her chin.
"Oh, Whitey," cried Sylvia, "I feel better already! It all looks so bright, and cheerful, and alive! I'm simply dying to go out for a drive, and to see the people walking about. I used to think this such a dull little road, but now it seems quite gay and fashionable. I've seen three perambulators already, to say nothing of the butcher's cart! I wish the Number Seven lady would go out for a walk, and let me see her autumn clothes. She wears all the colours of the rainbow, and looks like a walking kaleidoscope... Whitey! Oh, Whitey!"
The weak voice rose to a squeal of excitement, and the nurse bent forward curiously to discover the reason of so much agitation. To the ordinary eye, however, there was nothing to be seen, for Sylvia's outstretched hand pointed to a semi-detached villa in no way distinguished from the rest of the row.
"It's taken!" she cried--"Number Three is ta