"I don't want you to give her a Hair Bracelet, because I believe it will bring ill-luck to her--there!" Zack burst out laughing.

"Do you call that a reason?
Who ever heard of a Hair Bracelet being an unlucky gift ?" At this moment, the door of Mrs.Blyth's room opened.
"Anything wrong with the lock ?" asked Valentine from above.

He was rather surprised at the time that elapsed without his hearing the house-door shut.
"All quite right, sir," said Mrs.Peckover; adding in a whisper to Zack:--"Hush! don't say a word!" "Don't let him keep you in the cold with his nonsense," said Valentine.
"My nonsense!--" began Zack, indignantly.
"He's going, sir," interrupted Mrs.Peckover.

"I shall be upstairs in a moment." "Come in, dear, pray! You're letting all the cold air into the room," exclaimed the voice of Mrs.Blyth.
The door of the room closed again.
"What _are_ you driving at ?" asked Zack, in extreme bewilderment.
"I only want you to give her some other present," said Mrs.Peckover, in her most persuasive tones.

"You may think it all a whim of mine, if you like--I dare say I'm an old fool; but I don't want you to give her a Hair Bracelet." "A whim of yours!!!" repeated Zack, with a look which made Mrs.
Peckover's cheeks redden with rising indignation.