Mary's boasted self-control flew to the four winds.

She was half way down the stairs when she heard it, but turning abruptly she marched back to her room, her cheeks red and her eyes blazing.

Throwing open the door she gave one glance around the room.

The disorder happened to be a little worse than usual.

A wet umbrella leaned against her bed, and Ethelinda's damp coat lay across the white counterpane, for she had been walking in the rain, and had thrown them down in the most convenient spot on entering.