plain baking powder, and we haven't any biscuits to raise with it."
"Dear me," said Jean, "I wish we hadn't been so extravagant at first. If we hadn't had so many tea parties last week we might get enough flour and things at home. Mother says it's too expensive having all her groceries carried off."
"Never mind," consoled Mabel, confidently, "we'll be buying our own groceries by this time to-morrow with the money we make selling lemonade—a boy said my lemonade was quite as good as you can buy at the circus."
Unfortunately, however, it rained the next day and the next, so lemonade was out of the question. By the time it cleared, Bettie's neat little bunches of arbutus were no longer fresh, and careless Mabel had forgotten where she had put the money. She mentioned no less than twenty-two places where the four precious nickels might be but none of them happened to be the right one.
