On the little table by her side were the tea-tray, and a well-wom copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.' She was not reading, however, though now and then she turned over the pages and looked at a picture. Except when she did so, she kept her eyes half-closed, and leaning back in her chair, gazed sleepily into the garden through her drooping eyelashes. The fact was, that she was every minute expecting to see a white rabbit come scudding up the lawn.

If only that white rabbit would appear, she knew the t it would be all right. What other wonderful things might happen, she could not guess, and to say the truth, she was a little anxious about them. But that something wonderful would happen, so soon as the rabbit should be kind enough to come for her, she had no doubt at all. Twice before during that summer she had contrived to have the garden to herself, without fear of interruption from parents, brothers, servants or visitors; but the rabbit had never come, and this would very likely be her last chance before cold and rain set in.

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