CHAPTER VIII. "ANOTHER wet Saturday; how tiresome !" said Edith, as she gazed with her sister from the dressing-room window on the fast falling sleet and driving wind. Oh, it makes one shudder to hear the howling, whistling wind. I was hoping so papa would come and see us to-day, and now," added she, sighing, there isn't a chance of it." "Ah, well," replied Grace; I daresay there'll be a long letter in our basket, and if Herbert's cold had not been better we should have been sure to have heard, so you needn't fidget yourself about him. Come away from the window and don't look at the dismal pros- pect. You'll get the horrors if you stand there much longer." "What shall we do ?" answered Edith, slowly turning away as her sister advised; " nothing seems very nice or interesting on wet days, and it is so cold. I am sure I can't stay in this room any longer without a fire, and I can't bear sitting in the school-room with all the girls !" You seem in a charming humour," broke in