the black tie on her middy blouse to a scarlet one and let the ends
fly out of her grey waterproof cape. Why is it that red is such a
divine colour on a rainy day?

Upon her return there was still an hour before dinner, and she sat
by the dining-room window with Aunt Nettie, to darn stockings.

"Well, Missy," said Aunt Nettie presently, "a penny for your
thoughts."

Missy looked up vaguely, at a loss. "I wasn't thinking of anything
exactly," she said.

"What were you smiling about?"

"Was I smiling?"

Just then mother entered and Aunt Nettie said: "Missy smiles, and
doesn't know it. Party!"

But Missy knew it wasn't the party entirely. Nor was it entirely the
sound of the rain swishing, nor the look of the trees quietly
weeping, nor of the vivid red patches of geranium beds. Everything
could have been quite different, and still she'd have felt happy.
Her feeling, mysteriously, was as much from things INSIDE her as
from things outside.

After dinner was over and the baby minded for an hour, mother made
the pink-brocaded sash. It was very lovely. Then she had an hour to
herself, and since the rain wouldn't permit her to spend it in the