on her face.

"Miss Katy," she said, "I wish _you'd_ speak to Alexander about putting
the woodshed in order. I don't think you know how bad it looks."

"I don't suppose I do," said Katy, smiling, and then sighing. She had
never seen the wood-shed since the day of her fall from the swing.
"Never mind, Mary, I'll talk to Alexander about it, and he shall make it
all nice."

Mary trotted down stairs satisfied. But in the course of a few minutes
she was up again.

"There's a man come with a box of soap, Miss Katy, and here's the bill.
He says it's resated."

It took Katy a little time to find her purse, and then she wanted
her pencil and account book, and Elsie had to move from her seat at
the table.

"Oh dear!" she said, "I wish people wouldn't keep coming and
interrupting us. Who'll be the next, I wonder?"

She was not left to wonder long. Almost as she spoke, there was another
knock at the door.

"Come in!" said Katy, rather wearily. The door opened.

"Shall I?" said a voice. There was a rustle of skirts, a clatter of
boot-heels, and Imogen Clark swept into the room. Katy could not think