Deena had been trying in vain to make quince jelly stiffen-_jell_ was the word used in the receipt book of the late Mrs. Ponsonby-with the modicum of sugar prescribed, till in despair she had resorted to a pinch of gelatine, and felt that the shade of her mother-in-law was ticking the word _incompetent_ from the clock in the hall-when suddenly the watchword was drowned in the stertorous breathing of the machine at the gate, and Polly whisked in without ringing and met Deena face to face.
"We have come to take you for a spin in our new automobile," Polly cried, gayly.
"Where is Simeon? You think he would not care to go? Well, leave him for once, and come as far as Wolfshead, and we will lunch there and bring you back before sunset."
Deena's delicate complexion was reddened by the heat of the preserve kettle, her sleeves were rolled above her elbows, and a checked apron with a bib acted as overalls. Polly twitched her to the stairs.
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Deena sat sewing till
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