I GET FAINT WITH TERROR. 125

at the roses, and I cannot tell whether his
expression is one of satisfaction or otherwise.
“Wem! strange, very strange!” I hear him
mutter to himself presently. “I certainly
thought there were four red; and if 1 remem-
ber rightly, only three of the tea,’—then
after a minute’s reflection, “ however, I sup-
pose I was mistaken; what say you, Madge?”

I turn hot and cold and tremble so
violently that I begin to fear I shall fall to
the ground, and after opening my lips twice
to speak, and no sound coming therefrom, I
stammer, “ Yes, no, that is I didn’t see them,
at least I didn’t know that they were the
show ones”—and as Father turns round sud-
denly and looks at me, I stop confusedly.

“Why, bless the child, what ails you?” he
cries; “you look ready to faint. 1 suppose
it was the heat of the drive that upset you.
Come along and [ll get you something,” and
as he speaks Father tucks my arm under
his, and away we go towards the tent over
which is written in huge red letters, “Re
freshments.”