311 files changed, 20522 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/24828-8.txt b/24828-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3b9c8b9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,6044 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Margaret Montfort, by Laura E. Richards
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Margaret Montfort
+
+Author: Laura E. Richards
+
+Illustrator: Etheldred B. Barry
+
+Release Date: March 14, 2008 [EBook #24828]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARGARET MONTFORT ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+MARGARET MONTFORT
+
+
+
+
+_Books by Laura E. Richards._
+
+
+"Mrs. Richards has made for herself a little niche apart in the literary
+world, from her delicate treatment of New England village
+life."--_Boston Post._
+
+
+THE CAPTAIN JANUARY SERIES.
+
+=CAPTAIN JANUARY.= 16mo, cloth, 50 cents.
+
+A charming idyl of New England coast life, whose success has been very
+remarkable. One reads it, is thoroughly charmed by it, tells others, and
+so its fame has been heralded by its readers, until to-day it is selling
+by the thousands, constantly enlarging the circle of its delighted
+admirers.
+
+=SAME.= _Illustrated Holiday Edition._ With thirty half-tone pictures
+from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25.
+
+
+=MELODY.= The Story of a Child. 16mo, 50 cents.
+
+"Had there never been a 'Captain January,' 'Melody' would easily take
+first place."--_Boston Times._
+
+"The quaintly pretty, touching, old-fashioned story is told with perfect
+grace; the few persons who belong to it are touched on with distinctness
+and with sympathy."--_Milwaukee Sentinel._
+
+=SAME.= _Illustrated Holiday Edition._ With thirty half-tone pictures
+from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25.
+
+
+=MARIE.= 16mo, 50 cents.
+
+"Seldom has Mrs. Richards drawn a more irresistible picture, or framed
+one with more artistic literary adjustment."--_Boston Herald._
+
+"A perfect literary gem."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+
+=NARCISSA=, and a companion story, =IN VERONA=. 16mo, cloth, 50 cents.
+
+"Each is a simple, touching, sweet little story of rustic New England
+life, full of vivid pictures of interesting character, and refreshing
+for its unaffected genuineness and human feeling."--_Congregationalist._
+
+"They are the most charming stories ever written of American country
+life."--_New York World._
+
+
+=JIM OF HELLAS; or, IN DURANCE VILE=, and a companion story, =BETHESDA
+POOL=. 16mo, 50 cents.
+
+
+=SOME SAY=, and a companion story, =NEIGHBOURS IN CYRUS=. 16mo, 50
+cents.
+
+
+=ROSIN THE BEAU.= 16mo, 50 cents. A sequel to "Melody."
+
+
+=ISLA HERON.= A charming prose idyl of quaint New England life. Small
+quarto, cloth, 75 cents.
+
+
+=NAUTILUS.= A very interesting story, with illustrations; uniquely
+bound, small quarto, cloth, 75 cents.
+
+
+=FIVE MINUTE STORIES.= A charming collection of short stories and clever
+poems for children. Small quarto, cloth, $1.25.
+
+
+=THREE MARGARETS.= One of the most clever stories for girls that the
+author has written. 16mo, cloth, $1.25.
+
+
+=MARGARET MONTFORT.= A new volume in the series of which "Three
+Margarets" was so successful as the initial volume. 16mo, cloth,
+handsome cover design, $1.25.
+
+
+=LOVE AND ROCKS.= A charming story of one of the pleasant islands that
+dot the rugged Maine coast, told in the author's most graceful manner.
+With etching frontispiece by Mercier. Tall 16mo, unique cover design on
+linen, gilt top, $1.00.
+
+
+_Dana Estes & Company, Publishers, Boston._
+
+[Illustration: MARGARET MONTFORT.]
+
+
+
+
+
+MARGARET MONTFORT
+
+BY
+
+LAURA E. RICHARDS
+
+        AUTHOR Of "CAPTAIN JANUARY," "MELODY,"
+        "QUEEN HILDEGARDE," ETC.
+
+Illustrated by
+
+ETHELDRED B. BARRY
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  BOSTON
+  DANA ESTES & COMPANY
+  PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+        _Copyright, 1898_
+        BY DANA ESTES & COMPANY
+
+        Colonial Press
+
+        Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
+        Boston, U.S.A.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+        CHAPTER                        PAGE
+
+           I. PRESENT AND ABSENT         11
+
+          II. DOMESTIC                   25
+
+         III. THE UNEXPECTED             44
+
+          IV. THE TRIALS OF MARGARET     61
+
+           V. A NEW TYPE                 77
+
+          VI. A LESSON IN GEOGRAPHY      96
+
+         VII. THE DAUNTLESS THREE       114
+
+        VIII. THE FIRST CONQUEST        129
+
+          IX. A NEWCOMER                145
+
+           X. "I MUST HELP MYSELF"      164
+
+          XI. THE SECOND CONQUEST       179
+
+         XII. THE VOICE OF FERNLEY      195
+
+        XIII. WHO DID IT?               212
+
+         XIV. BLACK SPIRITS AND WHITE   231
+
+          XV. A DEPARTURE               249
+
+         XVI. PEACE                     264
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS.
+
+
+                                                           PAGE
+
+  MARGARET MONTFORT                                   _Frontispiece_
+
+  "AFTERWARDS SHE SALLIED OUT INTO THE GARDEN"              63
+
+  "'DID YOU BRING A BOOK TO READ TO ME, LITTLE GIRL?'"      84
+
+  "THE LITTLE GIRL HAD NEVER STIRRED, BUT STOOD GAZING UP
+     AT THE BIG MAN WHO HELD HER HANDS"                    120
+
+  "MERTON WAS TEASING CHIQUITO"                            153
+
+  "'WON'T YOU COME IN?'"                                   175
+
+  A LIVELY GHOST                                           247
+
+  "THE 'FLAIL OF THE DESERT'"                              268
+
+
+
+
+MARGARET MONTFORT.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+PRESENT AND ABSENT.
+
+
+"It shall be exactly as you please, my dear!" said Mr. Montfort. "I have
+no wish in the matter, save to fulfil yours. I had thought it would be
+pleasanter, perhaps, to have the rooms occupied; but your feeling is
+most natural, and there is no reason why you should not keep your
+present room."
+
+"Thank you, uncle!" said the girl whom he addressed as Margaret, and
+whom some of my readers may have met before. "It is not that I don't
+love the dear rooms, nor that it would not be a joy to be in them, for
+some reasons; but,--I think, just to go and sit there every day, alone
+or with you, and think about her,--it seems as if that would be easier
+just now, dear uncle. You always understand, Uncle John!"
+
+Mr. Montfort nodded, and puffed thoughtfully at his cigar. The two,
+uncle and niece, were sitting on the wide verandah of Fernley House; it
+was a soft, fair June evening, and the fireflies were flitting through
+the trees, and one or two late birds were chirping drowsily. There were
+only the two of them at Fernley now, for one day, some two months ago,
+the beloved Aunt Faith had fallen quietly asleep, and passed in sleep
+away from age and weakness and weariness. Margaret missed her sadly
+indeed; but there was no bitterness in her grieving, and she felt all
+the more need of keeping the house cheerful and bright for her uncle,
+who had lost the faithful and affectionate friend who had been for years
+like a second mother to him. They talked of her a great deal, of the
+beauty and helpfulness of the long life that had brought so much joy to
+others; just now Mr. Montfort had proposed that Margaret should occupy
+the White Rooms, which had been Mrs. Cheriton's special apartments in
+the great rambling house; but he did not urge the matter, and they sat
+in silence for a time, feeling the soft beauty of the evening wrap them
+round like a garment of rest.
+
+"And what have you been doing all day, while I was in town?" asked Mr.
+Montfort presently. "You were not too lonely, May Margaret?"
+
+"Oh, no, not a bit too lonely; just enough to make it very good to have
+one's Uncle John come back. Let me see! After you went, I fed Chiquito,
+and stayed with him quite a while, talking and singing. He is so
+pitiful, poor old fellow! Then I took a walk, and dropped in to see how
+Mrs. Peyton was; she asked me to come in the morning, you know, when I
+could."
+
+"And how was she? Superb as ever?"
+
+"Just, Uncle John! Her dressing-jacket was blue this time, and there was
+a new kind of lace on her pillows."
+
+"Oh! she has lace on her pillows, has she, my dear?"
+
+"Didn't I tell you, uncle? Pillows and sheets are trimmed with real
+lace, most magnificent. To-day it was Valenciennes, really lovely
+Valenciennes, to match her cap and the frills on her jacket. And
+turquoise buttons and cap-pins; oh, she was a vision of beauty, I assure
+you. The pale pink roses on the table by her bed gave just the right
+touch to accentuate--if that is what I mean--all the blue. She is an
+artist in effects. She must have been very beautiful, Uncle John? She is
+beautiful now, of course, only so worn and fragile."
+
+"Yes, she was extremely beautiful, in her way," said Mr. Montfort; "and
+she was always, as you say, an artist in effects. And in a good many
+other things," he murmured, half under his breath. "She was glad to see
+you, no doubt, my child?"
+
+"Oh, yes; she is always most cordial and kind. She made me tell her just
+how you were looking,--she always does that; and what you were doing."
+
+"Emily Peyton is a singular woman," said Mr. Montfort, thoughtfully.
+"She suffers, no doubt, and I am glad if you can be a comfort to her,
+Margaret; but be a little careful, my dear; be a little careful with
+Mrs. Peyton! H'm! ha! yes, my love! and what else did you say you had
+done to amuse yourself?"
+
+"Why, Uncle John, do you think I have to be amusing myself all day? What
+a frivolous creature you must think me! I practised after I came home;
+and then I had lunch, and then I arranged the flowers, and then I made
+some buttonholes, and all the rest of the afternoon I sat under the big
+tulip-tree, reading 'Henry Esmond.' So you see, I have really had the
+most delightful day, Uncle John."
+
+"Especially the last part of it," said her uncle, smiling. "Esmond was
+rather more delightful than the buttonholes, eh, Meg?"
+
+"Well, possibly!" Margaret admitted. "He is rather more delightful than
+almost anything else, isn't he? But not half so good as one's Uncle
+John, when he comes home in the gloaming, with his pockets full of
+bonbons and letters for his unworthy niece."
+
+"Flatterer!" said Mr. Montfort. "Does this come of visiting Mrs. Peyton?
+She used to be an adept in the art. But what do our two other Margarets
+say? Has Peggy set the prairies on fire yet? She will some day, you
+know."
+
+"Do you think the mosquitoes would quite devour us if I brought the
+small lamp out here? I really must read you the letters, and it is too
+lovely to go in. Shall I try?"
+
+Margaret brought the lamp, and, drawing a letter from her pocket, began
+to read:
+
+        "DARLING MARGARET:
+
+        "I was so glad to get your letter. It was
+        splendid, and I'm going to copy out a lot of
+        the things you said, and pin them up by my
+        looking-glass. My hair _will not_ part
+        straight, because I have the most frightful
+        cowlick--
+
+"I don't believe you care for this part, do you, Uncle John? Poor little
+Peggy's difficulties are very funny sometimes."
+
+"Why, I like it all, Meg, if you think Peggy would not mind my hearing
+it. It is all sweet and wholesome, I know; but leave out anything you
+think I should not hear."
+
+"Oh, there isn't anything, really. I'll go on, if you like. Where was I?
+Oh!--
+
+        "The most frightful cowlick. The reason I tried
+        was because you said my forehead was nice. I
+        hope you will not think me very vain, Margaret.
+        And you know, no one is wearing bangs any more,
+        not even curly ones. So I have put it straight
+        back now, and Pa likes it, and says I look like
+        his mother. Margaret, will you try to get me
+        the receipt for barley soup, the way Frances
+        makes it? Mother isn't well, and I thought I
+        would try if I could make some. I think,
+        Margaret, that I am going to find something I
+        can really do! I think it is cooking! What do
+        you think of that? Our cook went away to her
+        brother's wedding last week, and Mother was
+        sick, and so I tried; and Pa (I tried saying
+        Father, but he wouldn't let me!) said the
+        things tasted good, and I had a knack for
+        flavouring. That made me feel so happy,
+        Margaret! Because I had just gone ahead till I
+        thought a thing tasted right. I did not want to
+        be bothering 'round with cook-books, and
+        besides, ours was lost, for Betsy can't read,
+        so there was no use for one. I made an
+        apple-pudding yesterday, and Pa had two helps,
+        and all the boys wanted three, but there wasn't
+        enough, though I made it in the big meat-pie
+        pan. Darling Margaret, do please write again
+        very soon, and tell me about everything at
+        dear, darling Fernley. How is Chiquito, and
+        does Uncle John ever speak of me? I miss him
+        dreadfully, but I miss you most of all, darling
+        Margaret,--I never get over missing you. I have
+        a new dog, a setter, a perfect beauty. I asked
+        Hugh to name him for me, and he named him
+        Hamlet, because he was black and white, and
+        Hugh thought he was going to be melancholy, but
+        he grins and wiggles all over every time you
+        look at him. I am teaching him to jump over a
+        stick and he does it beautifully,--only the
+        other day I stood too near the looking-glass,
+        and he jumped into that, and smashed it, and
+        frightened himself almost to death, poor puppy.
+        Margaret, I read a little history every
+        day,--not very much, but I think of you when I
+        read it, and that makes it better. Pa says I am
+        going to school next year; won't that be fun?
+        Hugh is reading 'John Brent' to me in the
+        evenings. Oh, how perfectly splendid it is! If
+        I had a horse like Fulano, I would live with
+        him all the time, and never leave him for five
+        minutes. I want dreadfully to go out west and
+        find Luggernel Alley. Hugh says perhaps we
+        shall go some day, just him and me. That
+        doesn't look right, Margaret, but I tried
+        writing 'he and I' on a piece of paper, and it
+        didn't look any better, so I guess I'll leave
+        it as it is. Do you think I write better? I am
+        trying to take a lot of pains. I try to think
+        of all the things you tell me, dear Margaret.
+        Mother thinks I am doing better, I know. Mother
+        and I have real good talks together, like we
+        never used to before, and she tells me what she
+        used to do when she was a girl. I guess she had
+        some pretty hard times. I guess I'm a pretty
+        lucky girl, Margaret. Now I must go and get
+        mother's supper. Give lots and lots of love to
+        Uncle John, and some to Elizabeth and Frances,
+        and say--I can't spell it, but the Spanish
+        thing I learned--to poor Chiquito. But most
+        love of all to your own, dear, darling self,
+        Margaret, from
+
+                                            "PEGGY."
+
+Mr. Montfort curled his moustaches in silence for some minutes, when the
+reading was over.
+
+"Dear little girl!" he said at last. "Good little Peggy! So she will
+learn to cook, will she? And she is getting hold of her mother! This is
+as it should be, Margaret, eh?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" cried Margaret. "Oh, Uncle John, this letter makes me feel so
+happy about the child. At first, you know, she missed us all more than
+she should have,--really. And--and I think that, except for Hugh,
+perhaps they did not receive her in quite the way they might have,
+laughing at her a good deal, and sneering when she tried to make little
+improvements. I don't mean Aunt Susan or Uncle James, but the younger
+children, and George, who must be--whom I don't fancy, somehow. And she
+has been so brave, and has tried so hard to be patient and gentle. I
+think our Peggy will make a very fine woman, don't you, uncle?"
+
+"I do, my love. I have a great tenderness for Peggy. When she is at
+school, she must come here for her vacations, or some of them, at
+least."
+
+"And she owes this all to you!" cried Margaret, with shining eyes. "If
+she had never come here, Uncle John, I feel as if she might have grown
+up--well, pretty wild and rough, I am afraid. Oh, she ought to love you,
+and she does."
+
+"Humph!" said Mr. Montfort, dryly. "Yes, my dear, she does, and I am
+very glad of the dear little girl's love. But as for owing it all to me,
+why, Margaret, there may be two opinions about that. Well, and what says
+our Bird of Paradise?"
+
+"Rita? Oh, uncle, I don't know what you will think of this letter."
+
+"Don't read it, my dear, if you think it is meant for you alone. You can
+tell me if she is well and happy."
+
+"That is just it, Uncle John. She wants to go to Europe, and her father
+does not approve of her going just at present, and so--well, you shall
+hear part of it, at any rate.
+
+        "Margaret, my Soul!"
+
+"That sounds natural!" said Mr. Montfort. "That is undoubtedly Rita,
+Margaret; go on! If you were her soul, my dear, my brother Richard would
+have a quieter life. Go on."
+
+        "Hardly a week has passed since last I wrote,
+        yet to-night I fly again in spirit to you,
+        since my burning heart must pour itself out to
+        some other heart that can beat with mine. It is
+        midnight. All day I have suffered, and now I
+        fain would lose myself in sleep. But no! My
+        eyes are propped open, my heart throbs to
+        suffocation, I enrage, I tear myself--how
+        should sleep come to such as I? O Marguerite,
+        there in your cool retreat, with that best of
+        men, my uncle,--yours also,--a Paladin, but one
+        whose blood flows, or rests, quietly, as yours,
+        can you feel for me, for your Rita, who burns,
+        who dissolves in anguish? Listen! I desire to
+        go to Europe. I have never seen it, as you
+        know. Spain, the home of my ancestors, the
+        cradle of the San Reals, is but a name to me.
+        Now I have the opportunity. An escort offers
+        itself, perfection, beyond earthly desire. You
+        recall my friend, my Conchita, who divides my
+        heart with you? She is married, my dear! She is
+        the Señora Bobadilla; her husband is noble,
+        rich, devoted. Young, I do not say; brilliant,
+        I do not pretend! Conchita is brought up in the
+        Spanish way, my child; she weds a Spanish
+        husband, as her parents provide him; it is the
+        custom. Now! Marguerite, they offer to take me
+        with them to Spain, to France, Italy, the
+        world's end. It is the opportunity of a
+        lifetime. I pine, I die for change. When you
+        consider that I have been a year here, without
+        once leaving home,--it is an eternity! I
+        implore my father; I weep--torrents! I clasp
+        his knees. I say, 'Kill me, but let me go!' No!
+        he is adamant. He talks about the disturbed
+        state of the country! Has it been ever
+        undisturbed? I ask you, Marguerite! Briefly, I
+        remain! The Bobadillas sail to-morrow, without
+        me. I feel that this blow has crushed me,
+        Marguerite. I feel my strength, never, as you
+        know, robust, ebbing from me. Be prepared,
+        Marguerite! I feel that in a few weeks I may be
+        gone, indeed, but not to Europe; to another and
+        a kinder world. The San Reals are a short-lived
+        race; they suffer, they die! My father will
+        realise one day that he might better have let
+        his poor Rita have her way for once, when Rita
+        lies shrouded in white, with lilies at her
+        head and feet. Adios, Marguerite! farewell,
+        heart of my heart! I have made my will,--my
+        jewels are divided between you and Peggy. Poor
+        Peggy! she also will mourn me. You will dry her
+        tears, dearest! The lamp burns low--no more!
+        For the last time, beloved Marguerite,
+
+                          "Your unhappy
+                 "MARGARITA MARIA DOLORES DE
+                                   SAN REAL MONTFORT."
+
+"Isn't that really pretty alarming?" said Margaret, looking up.
+"Why--why, Uncle John! you are laughing! Don't laugh, please! Of course
+Rita is extravagant, but I am afraid she must really be very unhappy.
+Stay! Here is a postscript that I did not see before. Oh! Oh, uncle!
+Listen!
+
+        "Alma mia, one word! It is morning, in the
+        world and in my heart. I go, Marguerite! My
+        maid is packing my trunk at this instant. My
+        father relents; he is an angel, the kindest,
+        the most considerate of parents. We sail
+        to-morrow for Gibraltar,--I shall be in Madrid
+        in less than a month. Marguerite, I embrace you
+        tenderly. Rejoice, Beloved, with your happy,
+        your devoted
+
+                                          "RITA."
+
+"Thank you, my dear!" said Mr. Montfort, twirling his moustaches. "Poor
+Richard! Poor old Dick! Do you know, my dear, I think Dick may have had
+some experience of life."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+DOMESTIC.
+
+
+Life was pleasant enough for Margaret Montfort, in those days. The hours
+were still sad which she had been used to spend with Mrs. Cheriton, the
+beloved Aunt Faith; but there was such peace and blessedness in the
+thought of her, that Margaret would not have been without the gentle
+sorrow. She loved to sit in the White Rooms, sometimes with her uncle,
+but more often alone. In the morning, she generally walked for an hour
+in the garden with Mr. Montfort, tending the rose-bushes that were his
+special care and pride, listening to his wise and kindly talk, and
+learning, she always thought, something new each day. It is wonderful
+how much philosophy, poetry, even history, can be brought into the care
+of roses, if the right person has charge of them. At ten o'clock he
+generally went to town, and the rest of the morning was spent in
+practising, sewing, and studying; the hours flew by so fast, Margaret
+often suspected the clock of being something of a dishonest character.
+She was studying German, with the delightful result of reading "Der
+Trompeter von Säkkingen" with her uncle in the evening, when it was not
+too beautiful out-of-doors. Then, in the afternoon, she could with a
+clear conscience take up some beloved romance, and be "just happy," as
+she called it, till Mr. Montfort returned in time for the walk or ride
+which was the crowning pleasure of the day. And so the days went by, in
+a golden peace which seemed too pleasant to last; and yet there seemed
+no reason why it should ever change.
+
+The morning after the reading of the letters, Margaret had been in the
+White Rooms, arranging flowers in the vases, and putting little loving
+touches to books and cushions, as a tidy girl loves to do, whether there
+is need or not. The windows were open, and the orioles were singing in
+the great elm-tree, and the laburnum was a bower of gold. It seemed
+really too perfect a morning to spend in the house; Margaret thought she
+would take her work out into the garden, not this sunny green parlour,
+but the great shady garden outside, where the box swept above her head,
+and the whole air smelt of it, and of moss and ferns and a hundred other
+cool things. She passed out of the rooms, and went along a passage, and
+as she went she heard voices that came through an open door at one side;
+clear, loud voices that she could not have escaped if she would.
+
+"These table-napkins is scandalous!" said Elizabeth. "I do wish Miss
+Margaret would get us some new ones."
+
+"Why don't you ask her?" said Frances, the cook, bringing her flat-iron
+down with a thump. "The table-cloths is most worn out, too, this set.
+Ask her to see to some new ones. She's young, you see, and she don't
+think."
+
+"I've been giving her one with holes in it, right along this two weeks,"
+said Elizabeth, "hoping she'd notice, but she don't seem to. I thought
+it'd be best if she found out herself when things was needed."
+
+"Ah!" said Frances, "she's a sweet young lady, but she'll never make no
+housekeeper. She hasn't so much as looked inside one of my closets since
+Mis' Cheriton went."
+
+"You wouldn't be over and above pleased if she looked much into your
+closets, Frances; I know that!"
+
+"Maybe I wouldn't, and maybe I would; but I'd like to have her know as
+there was no need of her looking. Don't tell me, Elizabeth! So long as
+she could walk on her feet, never a week but Mis' Cheriton would look
+in, and take a peep at every shelf. 'Just for the pleasure of seeing
+perfection, Frances,' she'd say, or something like that, her pretty way.
+But if there had been anything _but_ perfection, I'd have heard from her
+pretty quick."
+
+"I think you're hard to please, I do!" Elizabeth answered. "I think Miss
+Margaret is as sweet a young lady as walks the earth; so thoughtful, and
+afraid of giving trouble, and neat and tidy as a pin. I tell you, Mr.
+Montfort's well off, and so's you and me, Frances. Why, we might have
+had one of them other young ladies, and then where'd we have been?"
+
+"I don't know!" said Frances, significantly. "Not here, that's one sure
+thing."
+
+"Or Mr. Montfort might have married. Fine man as he is, it's a wonder he
+never has."
+
+"H'm! he's no such fool! Not but what there's them would be glad
+enough--"
+
+But here Margaret, with burning cheeks, fled back to the White Rooms. It
+could not be helped; she had to hear what they were saying about
+herself; she must not hear what they said about her uncle.
+
+She sat down on the little stool that had always been her favourite
+seat, and leaned her cheek against the great white chair, that would
+always be empty now.
+
+"I wish you were here, Aunt Faith!" she said, aloud. "I am very young,
+and very ignorant. I wish you were here to tell me what I should do."
+
+At first the women's talk seemed cruel to her. They had been here so
+long, they knew the ways of the house so entirely, she had never dreamed
+of advising them, any more than of advising her uncle himself. Frances
+had been at Fernley twenty years, Elizabeth, twenty-five. What could she
+tell them? How could she possibly know about the things that had been
+their care and pride, year in and year out, since before she was born?
+It seemed very strange, very unkind, that they should expect her to step
+in, with her youth and ignorance, between them and their experience. So
+she thought, and thought, feeling hot, and sore, and angry. She had
+never had any care of housekeeping in her life. Old Katy, her nurse, who
+had taken her from her dying mother's arms, had always done all that;
+Margaret's part was to see that her own and her father's clothes were in
+perfect order, to keep the rooms dusted, and arrange the books when she
+was allowed to touch them, which was not often. As to table-cloths, she
+had never thought of them in her life; Katy saw to all that; and if she
+had attempted to suggest ordering dinner, Katy would have been apt to
+send her to bed, Margaret thought. Poor, dear old Katy! She was dead
+now, and Aunt Faith was dead, and there was no one to stand between
+Margaret and the cares that she knew nothing about. Of course, Uncle
+John must never know anything of it; he expected perfection, and had
+always had it; he did not care how it was brought about. Surely these
+women were unkind and unreasonable! What good could she possibly do by
+interfering? They would not endure it if she really did interfere.
+
+The white linen cover of the chair was smooth and cool; Margaret pressed
+her cheek against it, and a sense of comfort stole over her insensibly.
+She began to turn the matter over, and try to look at the other side of
+it. There always was another side; her father had taught her that when
+she was a little child. Well, after all, had they really said anything
+unkind? Frances's words came back to her, "I'd like to have her know as
+there was no need of her looking."
+
+After all, was not that perfectly natural? Did not every one like to
+have good work seen and recognised? Even Uncle John always called her to
+see when he had made a particularly neat graft, and expected her praise
+and wonderment, and was pleased with it. And why did she show him her
+buttonholes this morning, except that she knew they were good
+buttonholes, and wanted the kindly word that she was sure of getting?
+Was the trouble with her, after all? Had she failed to remember that
+Elizabeth and Frances were human beings, not machines, and that her
+uncle being what he was, she herself was the only person to give them a
+word of deserved praise or counsel?
+
+"My dear," she said to herself, "I don't want to be hasty in my
+judgments, but it rather looks as if you had been a careless, selfish
+goose, doesn't it now?"
+
+She went up to her own room,--the garden seemed too much of an
+indulgence just now,--and sat down quietly with her work. Sewing was
+always soothing to Margaret. She was not fond of it; she would have
+read twelve hours out of the twenty-four, if she had been allowed to
+choose her own way of life, and have walked or ridden four, and slept
+six, and would never have thought of any time being necessary for
+eating, till she felt hungry. But she had been taught to sew well and
+quickly, and she had always made her own underclothes, and felled all
+the seams, and a good many girls will know how much that means. She sat
+sewing and thinking, planning all kinds of reforms and experiments, when
+she heard Elizabeth stirring in the room next hers. It was the linen
+room, and Elizabeth was putting away clean clothes, Margaret knew by the
+clank of the drawer-handles. Now! this was the moment to begin. She laid
+down her work, and went into the linen room.
+
+"May I see you put them away, Elizabeth?" she asked. "I always like to
+see your piles of towels,--they are so even and smooth."
+
+Elizabeth looked up, and her face brightened. "And welcome, Miss
+Margaret!" she said. "I'll be pleased enough. 'Tis dreadful lonesome,
+and Mis' Cheriton gone. Not that she could come up here, I don't mean;
+but I always knew she was there, and she was like a mother to me, and I
+could always go to her. Yes, miss, the towels do look nice, and I love
+to keep 'em so."
+
+"They are beautiful!" said Margaret, with genuine enthusiasm, for the
+shelves and drawers were like those she had read about in "Soll und
+Haben." She had loved them in the book, but never thought of looking at
+them in reality. "Oh, what lovely damask this is, Elizabeth! It shines
+like silver! I never saw such damask as this."
+
+"'Tis something rare, miss, I do be told," Elizabeth replied.
+
+"Mr. Montfort brought them towels back from Germany, three years ago,
+because he thought they would please his aunt, and they did, dear lady.
+Hand spun and wove they are, she said; and there's only one place where
+they make this weave and this pattern. See, Miss Margaret! 'Tis roses,
+coming out of a little loaf of bread like; and there was a story about
+it, some saint, but I don't rightly remember what. There! I have tried
+to remember that story, ever since Mis' Cheriton went, but it seems I
+can't."
+
+"Oh, oh, it must be Saint Elizabeth of Hungary!" cried Margaret, bending
+in delight over the smooth silvery stuff. "Why, how perfectly
+enchanting!"
+
+"Yes, miss, that's it!" cried Elizabeth, beaming with pleasure. "Saint
+Elizabeth it was; and maybe you'll know the story, Miss Margaret. I
+never like to ask Mr. Montfort, of course, but I should love dearly to
+hear it."
+
+Margaret asked nothing better. She told the lovely story as well as she
+knew how, and before she had finished, Elizabeth's eyes as well as her
+own were full of tears. One of Elizabeth's tears even fell on the towel,
+and she cried out in horror, and wiped it away as if it had been a
+poison-spot, and laid the sacred damask back in its place. Margaret felt
+the moment given to her.
+
+"Elizabeth," she said, "I want to ask you something. I want to ask if
+you will help me a little. Will you try?"
+
+Elizabeth, surprised and pleased, vowed she would do all she could for
+Miss Margaret, in any way in her power.
+
+"You can do a great deal!" said Margaret. "I--I am very young,
+Elizabeth, and--and you and Frances have been here a long time, and of
+course you know all about the work of the house, and I know nothing at
+all. And yet--and yet, I ought to be helping, it seems to me, and ought
+to be taking my place, and my share in the work. Do you see what I mean,
+Elizabeth? You and Frances could help me, oh, so much, if you would; and
+perhaps some day I might be able to help you too,--I don't know just
+how, yet, but it might come."
+
+"Oh, miss, we will be so thankful!" cried Elizabeth. "Oh, miss, Frances
+and me, we'd been wishing and longing to have you speak up and take your
+place, if I may say so. We didn't like to put ourselves forward, and
+we've no orders from Mr. Montfort, except to do whatever you said; and
+so, when you'll say anything, Miss Margaret, we feel ever and ever so
+much better, Frances and me. And I'll be pleased to go all over the work
+with you, Miss Margaret, this very day, and show you just how I've
+always done it, and I think Mr. Montfort has been satisfied, and Mis'
+Cheriton was, Lord rest her! and you so young, and with so much else to
+do, as I said time and again to Frances, reading with Mr. Montfort and
+riding with him, and taking such an interest in the roses, as his own
+daughter couldn't make him happier if he had one. And of course it's
+nature that you haven't had no time yet to take much notice, but it
+makes it twice as easy for servants, Miss Margaret, where an interest is
+took; and I'm thankful to you, I'm sure, and so will Frances be, and
+you'll find her closets a pleasure to look at."
+
+Elizabeth stopped to draw breath, and Margaret looked at her in wonder
+and self-reproach. The grave, staid woman was all alight with pleasure
+and the prospect of sympathy. It came over Margaret that, comfortable
+and homelike as their life at Fernley was, it was not perhaps exactly
+thrilling.
+
+"We will be friends, Elizabeth!" she said, simply; and the two shook
+hands, with an earnestness that meant something. "And you are to come
+to me, please, whenever there is anything that needs attention,
+Elizabeth, and I will do my best, and ask your advice about anything I
+don't understand. Don't--don't we--need some new napkins, Elizabeth?"
+
+Elizabeth was eloquent as to their need of napkins. In a couple of
+washes more, there would be nothing but holes left to wipe their hands
+on.
+
+"Then I'll order some this very day," said Margaret. "Or better still,
+I'll go to town with Uncle John to-morrow, and get them myself. And now,
+Elizabeth, I am going down to see Frances, and--and perhaps--do you
+think she would like it if I ordered dinner, Elizabeth?"
+
+"Miss Margaret, she'd be pleased to death!" cried Elizabeth.
+
+Returning from the kitchen an hour later, a sadder and a wiser girl (for
+Frances's perfection seemed unattainable by ordinary mortals, even with
+the aid of Sapolio), Margaret heard the sound of wheels on the gravel
+outside. Glancing through the window of the long passage through which
+she was going, she saw, to her amazement, a carriage standing at the
+door, a carriage that had evidently come some way, for it was covered
+with dust. The driver was taking down a couple of trunks, and beside the
+carriage stood a lady, with her purse in her hand.
+
+"I shall give you two dollars!" the lady was saying, in a thin, sharp
+voice. "I consider that ample for the distance you have come."
+
+"I told the gentleman it would be three dollars, mum!" said the man,
+civilly, touching his hat. "Three dollars is the regular price, with one
+trunk, and these trunks is mortal heavy. The gentleman said as it would
+be all right, mum."
+
+"The gentleman knew nothing whatever about it," said the sharp-voiced
+lady. "I shall give you two dollars, and not a penny more. I have always
+paid two dollars to drive to Fernley, and I have no idea of being
+cheated now, I assure you."
+
+The man was still grumbling, when Elizabeth opened the door. She looked
+grave, but greeted the newcomer with a respectful curtsey.
+
+"Oh, how do you do, Elizabeth!" said the strange lady. "How is Mr.
+Montfort?"
+
+"Mr. Montfort is very well, thank you, mum!" said Elizabeth. "He is in
+town, mum. He'll hardly be back before evening. Would you like to see
+Miss Montfort?"
+
+"Miss Montfort? Oh, the little girl who is staying here. You needn't
+trouble to call her just now, Elizabeth. Send for Willis, will you, and
+have him take my trunks in; I have come to stay. He may put them in the
+White Rooms."
+
+"I--I beg pardon, mum!" faltered Elizabeth. "In the Blue Room, did you
+say? The Blue Room has been new done over, and that is where we have put
+visitors lately."
+
+"Nothing of the sort!" said the lady, sharply. "I said the White Rooms;
+Mrs. Cheriton's rooms."
+
+Margaret stayed to hear no more. A stranger in the White Rooms! Aunt
+Faith's rooms, which she could not bear to occupy herself, though her
+uncle had urged her to do so? And such a stranger as this, with such a
+voice,--and such a nose! Never! never, while there was breath to pant
+with, while there were feet to run with!
+
+Never but once in her life had Margaret Montfort run as she did now;
+that once was when she flew up the secret staircase to save her cousin
+from burning. In a flash she was in her own room--what had been her
+room!--gathering things frantically in her arms, snatching books from
+the table, dresses from the closets. Down the back stairs she ran like a
+whirlwind; down, and up, and down again. Had the girl gone suddenly mad?
+
+Ten minutes later, when Elizabeth, her eyes smarting with angry tears,
+opened the door of the White Parlour,--Willis the choreman behind her,
+grunting and growling, with a trunk on his shoulder,--a young lady was
+sitting in the great white armchair, quietly reading. The young lady's
+cheeks were crimson, her eyes were sparkling, and her breath came in
+short, quick gasps, which showed that what she was reading must be very
+exciting; what made it the more curious was that the book was upside
+down. But she was entirely composed, and evidently surprised at the
+sudden intrusion.
+
+"What is it, Elizabeth?" asked Margaret, quietly.
+
+"I--I--I beg your pardon, Miss Montfort!" said Elizabeth, whose eyes
+were beginning to brighten, too, and her lips to twitch dangerously.
+"I--I didn't know, miss, as you had--moved in yet. Here is Miss
+Sophronia Montfort, miss, as perhaps you would like to see her."
+
+The strange lady was already glaring over Willis's shoulder.
+
+"What is this?" she said. "What does this mean? These rooms are not
+occupied; I was positively told they were not occupied. There must be
+some mistake. Willis--"
+
+"Yes, there is a mistake!" said Margaret, coming forward, and holding
+out her hand with a smile. "Is this Cousin Sophronia? I am Margaret,
+Cousin Sophronia. Uncle John asked me to take these rooms, and I--I feel
+quite at home in them already. Would you like the Pink, or the Blue
+Room? They are both ready, aren't they, Elizabeth?"
+
+"Yes, Miss Montfort," said Elizabeth, "quite ready."
+
+The strange lady's eyes glared wider and wider; her chest heaved; she
+seemed about to break out in a torrent of angry speech; but making a
+visible effort, she controlled herself. "How do you do, my--my dear?"
+she said, taking Margaret's offered hand, and giving it a little pinch
+with the tips of her fingers. "I--a little misunderstanding, no doubt.
+Willis,--the Blue Room,--for the present!" But Willis was suffering from
+a sudden and violent fit of coughing, which shook his whole frame, and
+made it necessary for him to rest his trunk against the wall and lean
+against it, with his head down; so that it was fully five minutes before
+Miss Sophronia Montfort's trunk got up to the Blue Room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE UNEXPECTED.
+
+
+When Mr. Montfort came home that afternoon, Margaret was waiting for
+him, as usual, on the verandah; as usual, for she was determined to keep
+the worry out of her face and out of her voice. But as her uncle came up
+the steps, with his cheery "Well! and how's my lassie?" he was
+confronted by Miss Sophronia Montfort, who, passing Margaret swiftly,
+advanced with both hands held out, and a beaming smile.
+
+"My dearest John! my poor, dear fellow! Confess that I have surprised
+you. Confess it, John!--you did not expect to see me."
+
+"Sophronia!" exclaimed Mr. Montfort. He stood still and contemplated the
+visitor for a moment; then he shook hands with her, rather formally.
+
+"You certainly have surprised me, Sophronia!" he said, kindly enough.
+"What wind has blown you in this direction?"
+
+"The wind of affection, my dear boy!" cried the strange lady. "I have
+been planning it, ever since I heard of Aunt Faith's death. Dearest Aunt
+Faith! What a loss, John! what an irreparable loss! I shall never
+recover from the shock. The moment I heard of it, I said--William would
+tell you, if he were here--I said, 'I must go to John! He will need me
+now,' I said, 'and go I must.' I explained to William that I felt it as
+a solemn duty. He took it beautifully, poor, dear fellow. I don't know
+how they will get on without me, for his wife is sadly heedless, John,
+and the children need a steady hand, they do indeed. But he did not try
+to keep me back; indeed, he urged me to come, which showed such a
+beautiful spirit, didn't it? And so here I am, my dearest boy, come to
+take Aunt Faith's place, and make a home for you, my poor lonely cousin.
+You know I have always loved you as a sister, John, and you must
+consider me a real sister now; sister Sophronia, dear John!"
+
+The lady paused for breath, and gazed tenderly on Mr. Montfort; that
+gentleman returned her gaze with one of steady gravity.
+
+"I shall be glad to have a visit from you, Sophronia," he said. "I have
+no doubt we can make you comfortable for a few weeks; I can hardly
+suppose that William can spare you longer than that. We have no children
+here to need your--your ministrations."
+
+The lady shook her head playfully; she had thin curls of a grayish
+yellow, which almost rattled when she shook her head.
+
+"Always self-denying, John!" she cried. "The same unselfish, good,
+sterling fellow! But I understand, my friend; I know how it really is,
+and I shall do my duty, and stand by you; depend upon that! And this
+dear child, too!" she added, turning to Margaret and taking her hand
+affectionately. "So young, so unexperienced! and to be attempting the
+care of a house like Fernley! How could you think of it, John? But we
+will make that all right. I shall be--we can hardly say a mother, can
+we, my dear? but an elder sister, to you, too. Oh, we shall be very
+happy, I am sure. The drawing-room carpets are looking very shabby,
+John. I am ready to go over the dear old house from top to bottom, and
+make it over new; of course you did not feel like making any changes
+while dear Aunt Faith was with you. Such a mistake, I always say, to
+shake the aged out of their ruts. Yes! so wise of you! and who is in the
+neighbourhood, John?"
+
+"I hardly know," said Mr. Montfort. "You know I live rather a hermit
+life, Sophronia. Mrs. Peyton is here; I believe you are fond of her."
+
+"Sweet Emily Peyton!" exclaimed Miss Sophronia, with enthusiasm. "Is
+that exquisite creature here? That will indeed be a pleasure. Ah, John,
+she should never have been Emily Peyton; you know my opinion on that
+point." She nodded her head several times, with an air of mysterious
+understanding. "And widowed, after all, and once more alone in the
+world. How does she bear her sorrow, John?"
+
+"I have not seen her," said Mr. Montfort, rather shortly. "From what I
+hear, she seems to bear it with considerable fortitude. Perhaps you
+forget that it is fully ten years since Mr. Peyton died, Sophronia. But
+Margaret here can tell you more than I can about Mrs. Peyton; she goes
+to see her now and then. Mrs. Peyton is something of an invalid, and
+likes to have her come."
+
+"Indeed!" cried Miss Sophronia. "I should hardly have fancied--Emily
+Peyton was always so mature in her thought, so critical in her
+observations; but no doubt she is lonely, and glad of any society; and
+sweet Margaret is most sympathetic, I am sure. Sympathy, my dear John!
+how could we live without it, my poor dear fellow?"
+
+"I am going to walk," said Mr. Montfort, abruptly. "Margaret, will you
+come? Sophronia, you will be glad of a chance to rest; you must be tired
+after your long drive."
+
+"This once, yes, dearest John!" said the lady. "This once you must go
+without me. I am tired,--so thoughtful of you to notice it! There is no
+sofa in the Blue Room, but I shall do very well there for a few days.
+Don't have me on your mind in the least, my dear cousin; I shall soon
+be absolutely at home. Enjoy your walk, both of you! After to-day, I
+shall always be with you, I hope. I ordered tea an hour earlier, as I
+dined early, and I knew you would not mind. Good-bye!" and the lady
+nodded, and smiled herself into the house.
+
+Margaret went for her hat in silence, and in silence she and her uncle
+walked along. Mr. Montfort was smoking, not in his usual calm and
+dignified manner, but in short, fierce puffs; smoking fast and
+violently. Margaret did not dare to speak, and they walked a mile or
+more without exchanging a word.
+
+"Margaret," said her uncle, at last.
+
+"Yes, Uncle John."
+
+"Not in the least, my dear!"
+
+"No, Uncle John."
+
+They walked another mile, and presently stopped at the top of a breezy
+hill, to draw breath, and look about them. The sun was going down in a
+cheerful blaze; the whole country smiled, and was glad of its own
+beauty. Mr. Montfort gazed about him, and heaved a long sigh of
+content.
+
+"Pretty! Pretty country!" he said. "Spreading fields, quiet woods, sky
+over all, undisturbed. Yes! You are very silent, my dear. Have I been
+silent, too, or have I been talking?"
+
+"What a curious question!" thought Margaret.
+
+"You--you have not said much, Uncle John," she replied.
+
+"Well, my love, that may be because there isn't much to say. Some
+situations, Margaret, are best met in silence."
+
+Margaret nodded. She knew her uncle's ways pretty well by this time.
+
+"And yet," continued Mr. Montfort, "it may be well to have just a word
+of understanding with you, my dear child. Sophronia Montfort is my own
+cousin, my first cousin."
+
+"Yes, Uncle John," said Margaret, as he seemed to pause for a reply.
+
+"Ri tumpty,--that is to say, there is no gainsaying that fact,--my own
+cousin. And by natural consequence, Margaret, the own cousin of your
+father, and by further consequence, your first cousin once removed. It
+is--a--it is many years since she has been at Fernley; we must try to
+make her comfortable during the time--the short time--she is with us.
+You have put her in the Blue Room; that is comfortable, is it, and
+properly fitted up,--all the modern inconveniences and abominations,
+eh?"
+
+Mr. Montfort's own room had a bare floor, a bed, a table, a chest of
+drawers, and a pitcher and basin and bath that might have been made for
+Cormoran or Blunderbore, whichever was the bigger.
+
+"Everything, I think, uncle," faltered Margaret, turning crimson, and
+beginning to tremble. "Oh! Oh, Uncle John! I have something to tell you.
+I--I don't know how to tell you."
+
+"Don't try, then, my dear," said Uncle John, in his own kind way.
+"Perhaps it isn't necessary."
+
+"Oh, yes, it is necessary. I shall have no peace till I do, uncle,--you
+remember you asked me to take the White Rooms; you surely asked me,
+didn't you?"
+
+"Surely, my child," said Mr. Montfort, wondering much. "But I wished
+you to do as you pleased, you know."
+
+"Yes! Oh, uncle, that was it! When Cousin Sophronia came, she--she told
+Elizabeth to have her trunks carried into the White Rooms."
+
+"So!" said Mr. Montfort.
+
+"Yes, uncle! I was in the passage, and heard her give the order, and
+I--I could not bear it, Uncle John, I could not, indeed. I flew
+up-stairs, and brought down some of my things,--all I could carry in two
+trips,--and, when they came in with the trunk, I--I was sitting there,
+and--and wondering why they came into my room. Uncle John, do you see?
+Was it very, very wicked?"
+
+For all reply, Mr. Montfort went off into a fit of laughter so prolonged
+and violent, that Margaret, who at first tried to join in timidly,
+became alarmed for him. "Ho! ho! ho!" he laughed, throwing his head
+back, and expanding his broad chest. "Ha! ha! ha! so you--ho! ho!--you
+got in first, little miss! Why wasn't I there to see? Oh, why wasn't I
+there? I would give a farm, a good farm, to have seen Sophronia's face.
+Tell me about it again, Margaret. Tell me slowly, so that I may see it
+all. You have a knack of description, I know; show me the scene."
+
+Slowly, half frightened, and wholly relieved, Margaret went through the
+matter from beginning to end, making as light as she could of her own
+triumph, of which she really felt ashamed, pleased as she was to have
+achieved it. When she had finished, her uncle sat down under a tree, and
+laughed again; not so violently, but with a hearty enjoyment that took
+in every detail.
+
+"And Willis had a fit of coughing!" he exclaimed, when Margaret had come
+to the last word. "Poor Willis! Willis must see a doctor at once.
+Consumptive, no doubt; and concealed under such a deceptive appearance
+of brawn! Ho! Margaret, my dear, I feel better, much better. You have
+cleared the air for me, my child."
+
+"You--are not angry, then, Uncle John? You don't think I ought to have
+put Cousin Sophronia in the rooms?"
+
+"My love, they should have been burned to the ground sooner. There was
+only one person in the world whom your Aunt Faith could not endure, and
+that person was Sophronia Montfort. You did perfectly right, Margaret;
+more right than you knew. If she had got into the White Rooms, I should
+have been under the necessity of taking her forcibly out of them
+(nothing short of force could have done it), and that would have created
+an unpleasantness, you see. Yes! Thank you, my dear little girl! I feel
+quite myself again. We shall worry through, somehow; but remember,
+Margaret, that you are the mistress of Fernley, and, if you have any
+trouble, come to me. And now, my love, we must go home to tea!"
+
+When the gong rang for tea, Margaret and her uncle entered the
+dining-room together--to find Cousin Sophronia already seated at the
+head of the table, rattling the teacups with intention.
+
+"Well, my dears!" she cried, in sprightly tones. "You walked further
+than you intended, did you not? I should not have sat down without you,
+but I was simply famished. I always think punctuality such an important
+factor in the economy of life. It is high time you had some steady head
+to look after you, John!" and she shook her head in affectionate
+playfulness. "Sit down, John!"
+
+Mr. Montfort did not sit down.
+
+"I am sorry you were hungry, Sophronia," he said, kindly. "I cannot
+think of letting you wait to pour tea for me, my dear cousin. Margaret
+does that always; you are to sit here by me, and begin at once upon your
+own supper. Allow me!"
+
+Margaret hardly knew how it was done. There was a bow, a courtly wave of
+the hand, a movement of chairs; and her own place was vacant, and Cousin
+Sophronia was sitting at the side place, very red in the face, her eyes
+snapping out little green lights; and Uncle John was bending over her
+with cordial kindness, pushing her chair in a little further, and
+lifting the train of her dress out of the way. With downcast eyes,
+Margaret took her place, and poured the tea in silence. She felt as if a
+weight were on her eyelids; she could not lift her eyes; she could not
+speak, and yet she must. She shook herself, and made a great effort.
+
+"How do you like your tea, Cousin Sophronia?" she asked, in a voice that
+tried to sound cheerful and unconcerned. And, when she had spoken, she
+managed, with another effort, to look up. Cousin Sophronia was smiling
+and composed, and met her timid glance with an affectionate nod.
+
+"Weak, my dear, if you please,--weak, with cream and sugar. Yes,--that
+will be excellent, I have no doubt. I have to be a little exact about my
+tea, my nerves being what they are. The nights I have, if my tea is not
+precisely the right shade! It seems absurd, but life is made up of
+little things, my dear John. And very right and wise, to have the dear
+child learn to do these things, and practise on us, even if it is a
+little trying at first. Is that the beef tea, Elizabeth? Thank you. I
+told Frances to make me some beef tea, John; I knew hers could be
+depended on, though I suppose she has grown rusty in a good many ways,
+with this hermit life of yours,--so bad for a cook, I always think.
+Yes, this is fair, but not quite what I should have expected from
+Frances. I must see her in the morning, and give her a good rousing; we
+all need a good rousing once in awhile. Frances and I have always been
+the best of friends; we shall get on perfectly, I have no doubt. Ah! The
+old silver looks well, John. Where did that sugar-bowl come from? Is it
+Montfort, or Paston? Paston, I fancy! The Montfort silver is heavier,
+eh?"
+
+"Possibly!" said Mr. Montfort. "That sugar-bowl is neither one nor the
+other, however. It is Dutch."
+
+"Really! Vanderdecken? I didn't know you had any Vanderdecken silver,
+John. Grandmother Vanderdecken left all her silver, I thought, to our
+branch. Such a mistake, I always think, to scatter family silver. Let
+each branch have _all_ that belongs to it, I always say. I feel very
+strongly about it."
+
+"This is not Vanderdecken," said Mr. Montfort, patiently. "I bought it
+in Amsterdam."
+
+"Oh! in Amsterdam! indeed! boughten silver never appeals to me. And
+speaking of silver, I have wished for years that I could find a trace of
+the old Vanderdecken porringer. You remember it, surely, John, at
+Grandmother Vanderdecken's? She had her plum porridge in it every night,
+and I used to play with the cow on the cover. I have tried and tried to
+trace it, but have never succeeded. Stolen, I fear, by some dishonest
+servant."
+
+"I beg your pardon, Cousin Sophronia," said Margaret, blushing. "I have
+the old Vanderdecken porringer, if it is the one with the cow on the
+cover."
+
+"_You!_" cried Miss Sophronia, opening her eyes to their fullest extent.
+
+"Yes," Margaret replied. "There it is, on the sideboard. I have eaten
+bread and milk out of it ever since I can remember, and I still use it
+at breakfast."
+
+Speechless for the moment, Miss Sophronia made an imperious sign to
+Elizabeth, who brought her the beautiful old dish, not without a glance
+of conscious pride at the wonderful blue polish on it. There was no
+piece of plate in the house that took so perfect a polish as this.
+
+Miss Sophronia turned it over and over. Her eyes were very green.
+"Margaret Bleecker. On the occasion of her christening, from her
+godmother," she read. "Yes, this is certainly the Vanderdecken
+porringer. And may I ask how you came by it, my dear?"
+
+"Certainly, Cousin Sophronia. Aunt Eliza Vanderdecken gave it to me at
+my christening; she was my godmother, you see."
+
+"A most extraordinary thing for Eliza Vanderdecken to do!" cried the
+lady. "Eliza Vanderdecken knew, of course, that she was meant to have
+but a life-interest in the personal property, as she never married. I
+cannot understand Eliza's doing such a thing. I have longed all my life
+for this porringer; I have associations with it, you see, lifelong
+associations. I remember my Grandmother Vanderdecken distinctly; you
+never saw her, of course, as she died years before you were born."
+
+"Yes," said Margaret, gently, but not without intention. "And I, Cousin
+Sophronia, associate it with Aunt Eliza, whom I remember distinctly, and
+who was my godmother, and very kind to me. I value this porringer more
+than almost any of my possessions. Thank you, Elizabeth; if you would
+put it back, please. Will you have some more tea, Cousin Sophronia?"
+
+"Let me give you another bit of chicken, Sophronia!" said Mr. Montfort,
+heartily. "I think we have had enough about porringers, haven't we?
+There are six or seven, I believe, in the strong closet. One of 'em was
+Adam's, I've always been told. A little gravy, Sophronia? You're eating
+nothing."
+
+"I have no appetite!" said Miss Sophronia. "You know I only eat to
+support life, John. A side-bone, then, if you insist, and a tiny bit of
+the breast. William always says, 'You must live,' and I suppose I must.
+Cranberry sauce! Thank you! I am really too exhausted to enjoy a morsel,
+but I will make an effort. We _can_ do what we _try_ to do, I always
+say. Thank you, dearest John. I dare say I shall be better to-morrow."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE TRIALS OF MARGARET.
+
+
+Margaret woke early the next morning, and lay wondering where she was.
+Her eyes were used to opening on rose-flowered walls and mahogany
+bed-posts. Here all was soft and white, no spot of colour anywhere. She
+came to herself with a start, and yesterday with its happenings came
+back to her. She sighed, and a little worried wrinkle came on her smooth
+forehead. What a change, in a few short hours! Was all their peaceful,
+dreamy life over, the life that suited both her and her uncle so
+absolutely? They had been so happy! Was it over indeed? It seemed at
+first as if she could not get up and face the cares of the day, under
+the new conditions. Indolent by nature, Margaret dreaded change, and
+above change unpleasantness; it seemed as if she might have plenty of
+both. She rose and dressed in a despondent mood; but when her hair was
+pinned up and her collar straight, she took herself to task. "I give you
+three minutes!" she said, looking at herself in the glass. "If you can't
+look cheerful by that time, you can go to bed again."
+
+[Illustration: "AFTERWARDS SHE SALLIED OUT INTO THE GARDEN."]
+
+The threat, or something else, carried the point, for it was an entirely
+cheerful young woman who came into the library, with a rose for Uncle
+John's buttonhole. Miss Montfort was already there, and responded with
+sad sprightliness to Margaret's greeting. "Thank you, my dear! I was
+just telling your uncle, it is a mere matter of form to ask if I have
+slept. I seldom sleep, especially if I am up-stairs. The servants over
+my head, it may be,--or if not that, I have the feeling of
+insecurity,--stairs, you understand, in case of fire. Dear William had
+my rooms fitted up on the ground floor. 'Sophronia,' he said, 'you must
+sleep!' I suppose it is necessary, but I am so used to lying awake. Such
+frightful noises in the walls, my dear John! Rats, I suppose? Has the
+wainscoting been examined lately, in the room you have put me in? Not
+that it matters in the least; I am the person in the world most easily
+suited, I suppose. A cot, a corner, a crust, as William says, and I am
+satisfied."
+
+It took several crusts to satisfy Miss Sophronia at breakfast.
+Afterwards she sallied out into the garden, where Mr. Montfort was
+enjoying his morning cigar, with Margaret at his side. "You dear child,"
+said the sprightly lady, "run now and amuse yourself, or attend to any
+little duties you may have set yourself. So important, I always say, for
+the young to be regular in everything they do. I am sure you agree with
+me, dearest John. I will be your uncle's companion, my love; that is my
+duty and my pleasure now. I must see your roses, John! No one in the
+world loves roses as I do. What do you use for them? I have a recipe for
+an infallible wash; I must give it to you, I must indeed."
+
+Margaret went into the house; there was no place for her, for the lady
+was leaning on Mr. Montfort's arm, chattering gaily in his ear. Margaret
+was conscious of an unpleasant sensation which was entirely new to her.
+She had always been with people she liked. Rita had often distressed
+her, but still she was most lovable, with all her faults. Cousin
+Sophronia was--not--lovable, the girl said to herself.
+
+It was a relief to visit the kitchen, and find Frances beaming over her
+bread-pan. The good woman hailed Margaret with delight, and received her
+timid suggestions as to dinner with enthusiasm.
+
+"Yes, Miss Margaret, I do think as a chicken-pie would be the very
+thing. I've a couple of fowl in the house now, and what would you think
+of putting in a bit of ham, miss?"
+
+"Oh!" said Margaret. "Is that what you usually do, Frances? Then I am
+sure it will be just right. And about a pudding; what do you think,
+Frances? You know so many kinds of puddings, and they are all so good!"
+
+Well, Frances had been thinking that if Miss Margaret should fancy
+apple-fritters, Mr. Montfort was fond of them, and they had not had them
+this month. And lemon-juice with them, or a little sugar and wine; which
+did Miss Margaret think would be best? This was a delightful way of
+keeping house; and after praising the bread, which was rising white and
+light in the great pan, and poking the bubbles with her little finger,
+and begging that she might be allowed to mix it some day soon, Margaret
+went back in a better humour to the White Rooms, and sat down resolutely
+to her buttonholes. There would be no walk this morning, evidently;
+well, when she had done her hour's stint, she would go for a little
+stroll by herself. After all, perhaps Uncle John would, when the
+strangeness had worn off a little, enjoy having some one of his own age
+to talk to; of course she was very young, too young to be much of a
+companion. Still,--
+
+Well, she would be cheerful and patient, and try to make things pleasant
+so far as she could. And now she could only go and wish Uncle John
+good-bye when he started for town, and perhaps walk to the station with
+him, if he was going to walk.
+
+While she sat sewing, glancing at the clock from time to time, Cousin
+Sophronia came in, work-bag in hand.
+
+"He is gone!" she said, cheerfully. "I saw him off at the gate. Dearest
+John! Excellent, sterling John Montfort! Such a pleasure to be with him!
+Such a joy to feel that I can make a home for him!"
+
+"Gone!" echoed Margaret, looking up in dismay. "Why, surely it is not
+train time!"
+
+"An early train, my love," the lady explained. "Your dear uncle felt
+obliged to start an hour earlier than usual, he explained to me. These
+busy men! And how are you occupying yourself, my dear? Ah! buttonholes?
+Most necessary! But, my love, you are working these the wrong way!"
+
+"No, I think not," said Margaret. "This is the way I have always made
+them, Cousin Sophronia."
+
+"Wrong, my dear! Quite wrong, I assure you. Impossible to get a smooth
+edge if you work them that way. Let me--h'm! yes! that is fairly even, I
+confess; but the other way is the correct one, you must take my word for
+it; and I will show you how, with pleasure. So important, I always say,
+to do things just as they should be done!"
+
+In vain Margaret protested that she understood the other way, but
+preferred this. She finally, for quiet's sake, yielded, and pricked her
+fingers, and made herself hot and cross, working the wrong way.
+
+Miss Sophronia next began to cross-question her about Mrs. Cheriton's
+last days. Such a saintly woman! Austere, some thought; perhaps not
+always charitable--
+
+"Oh!" cried Margaret, indignant. "Cousin Sophronia, you cannot have
+known Aunt Faith at all. She was the very soul of charity; and as for
+being austere--but it is evident you did not know her." She tried to
+keep down her rising temper, with thoughts of the sweet, serene eyes
+that had never met hers without a look of love.
+
+"I knew her before you were born, my dear!" said Miss Sophronia, with a
+slightly acid smile. "Oh, yes, I was intimately acquainted with dear
+Aunt Faith. I have never thought it right to be blind to people's little
+failings, no matter how much we love them. I always tell my brother
+William, 'William, do not ask me to be blind! Ask me, expect me, to be
+indulgent, to be devoted, to be self-sacrificing,--but not blind;
+blindness is contrary to my nature, and you must not expect it.' Yes!
+And--what was done with the clothes, my dear?"
+
+"The clothes?" echoed Margaret. "Aunt Faith's clothes, do you mean,
+Cousin Sophronia?"
+
+"No. I meant the Montfort clothes; the heirlooms, my dear. But perhaps
+you never saw them?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I have seen them often," said Margaret. "They are in the cedar
+chest, Cousin Sophronia, where they have always been. It is in the deep
+closet there," she nodded towards an alcove at the other end of the
+room.
+
+Miss Sophronia rose with alacrity. "Ah! I think I will look them over.
+Very valuable, some of those clothes are; quite unsuitable, I have
+thought for some years, to have them under the charge of an aged person,
+who could not in the course of nature be expected to see to them
+properly. I fear I shall find them in a sad condition."
+
+Her hand was already on the door, when Margaret was able to speak.
+"Excuse me, Cousin Sophronia; the chest is locked."
+
+"Very proper! Entirely proper!" cried the lady. "And you have the key?
+That will not do, will it, my love? Too heavy for these dear young
+shoulders, such a weight of responsibility! I will take entire charge of
+this; not a word! It will be a pleasure! Where is the key, did you say,
+love?"
+
+"Uncle John has the key!" said Margaret, quietly; and blamed herself
+severely for the pleasure she felt in saying it.
+
+"Oh!" Miss Montfort paused, her hand on the door; for a moment she
+seemed at a loss; but she went on again.
+
+"Right, Margaret! Very right, my love! You felt yourself, or your uncle
+felt for you, the unfitness of your having charge of such valuables.
+Ahem! I--no doubt dear John will give me the key, as soon as I mention
+it. I--I shall not speak of it at once; there is no hurry--except for
+the danger of moth. An old house like Fernley is always riddled with
+moth. I fear the clothes must be quite eaten away with them. Such a sad
+pity! The accumulation of generations!"
+
+Margaret hastened to assure her that the clothes were looked over
+regularly once a month, and that no sign of moths had ever been found in
+them. Miss Sophronia sighed and shook her head, and crocheted for some
+minutes in silence; she was making a brown and yellow shoulder-shawl.
+Margaret thought she had never seen a shawl so ugly.
+
+"Has Cousin William Montfort any daughters?" she asked, presently,
+thinking it her turn to bear some of the burden of entertainment.
+
+"Four, my dear!" was the prompt reply. "Sweet girls! young, heedless,
+perhaps not always considerate; but the sweetest girls in the world.
+Amelia is just your age; what a companion she would be for you! Dear
+Margaret! I must write to William, I positively must, and suggest his
+asking you for a good long visit. Such a pleasure for you and for
+Amelia! Not a word, my dear! I shall consider it a duty, a positive
+duty! Amelia is thought to resemble me in many ways; she is the image
+of what I was at her age. I am forming her; her mother is something of
+an invalid, as I think I have told you. The older girls are away from
+home just now,--they make a good many visits; I am always there, and
+they feel that they can go. If they were at home, I should beg dear John
+Montfort to invite Amelia here; such a pleasure for him, to have young
+life in the house. But as it is, William must ask you. Consider it
+settled, my love. A--what was done with Aunt Faith's jewels, my dear?
+She had some fine pearls, I remember. Vanderdecken pearls they were
+originally; I should hardly suppose Aunt Faith would have felt that she
+had more than a life interest in them. And the great amethyst necklace;
+did she ever show you her jewels, my love?"
+
+Margaret blushed, and braced herself to meet the shock. "I have them,
+Cousin Sophronia!" she said, meekly. "Aunt Faith wanted me to have all
+her jewels, and she gave them to me before--before she died." Her voice
+failed, and the tears rushed to her eyes. She was thinking of the frail,
+white-clad figure bending over the ancient jewel-box, and taking out
+the pearls. She heard the soft voice saying, "Your great-grandmother's
+pearls, my Margaret; they are yours now. Wear them for me, and let me
+have the pleasure of seeing them on your neck. You are my pearl,
+Margaret; the only pearl I care for now." Dear, dearest Aunt Faith. Why
+was she not here?
+
+Before Miss Sophronia could recover her power of speech, a knock came at
+the door.
+
+"I beg your pardon, Miss Margaret!" said Elizabeth, putting her head in,
+in answer to Margaret's "Come in!" "The butcher is here, miss, and
+Frances thought perhaps, would you come out and see him, miss?"
+
+"Certainly!" said Margaret, rising; but Miss Sophronia was too quick for
+her.
+
+"In a moment!" she cried, cheerfully. "Tell Frances I will be there in a
+moment, Elizabeth! Altogether too much for you, dear Margaret, to have
+so much care. _I_ cannot have too much care! It is what I live for; give
+the household matters no further thought, I beg of you. You might be
+setting your bureau drawers in order, if you like, while I am seeing
+the butcher; I always look over Amelia's drawers once a week--"
+
+She glided away, leaving Margaret white with anger. How was she to
+endure this? She was nearly eighteen; she had taken care of herself ever
+since she was seven, and had attained, or so she fancied, perfection, in
+the matter of bureau-drawers, at the age of twelve. To have her precious
+arrangements looked over, her boxes opened, her--oh, there could be,
+there _was_ no reason why she should submit to this! She locked the
+drawers quietly, one after the other, and put the key in her pocket. She
+would be respectful; she would be civil always, and cordial when she
+could, but she would not be imposed upon.
+
+By the time Miss Sophronia came back, Margaret was composed, and greeted
+her cousin with a pleasant smile; but this time it was the lady who was
+agitated. She came hurrying in, her face red, her air perturbed.
+"Insufferable!" she cried, as soon as the door was closed. "Margaret,
+that woman is insufferable! She must leave at once."
+
+"Woman! what woman, Cousin Sophronia?" asked Margaret, looking up in
+amazement.
+
+"That Frances! She--why, she is impertinent, Margaret. She insulted me;
+insulted me grossly. I shall speak to John Montfort directly he returns.
+She must go; I cannot stay in the house with her."
+
+Go! Frances, who had been at Fernley twenty years; for whom the new
+kitchen, now only fifteen years old, had been planned and arranged!
+Margaret was struck dumb for a moment; but recovering herself, she tried
+to soothe the angry lady, assuring her that Frances could not have meant
+to be disrespectful; that she had a quick temper, but was so good and
+faithful, and so attached to Uncle John; and so on. In another moment,
+to her great discomfiture, Miss Sophronia burst into tears, declared
+that she was alone in the world, that no one loved her or wanted her,
+and that she was the most unhappy of women. Filled with remorseful pity,
+Margaret bent over her, begging her not to cry. She brought a
+smelling-bottle, and Miss Sophronia clutched it, sobbing, and told
+Margaret she was an angelic child. "This--this is--a Vanderdecken
+vinaigrette!" she said, between her sobs. "Did Eliza Vanderdecken give
+you this, too? Very singular of Eliza! But she never had any sense of
+fitness. Thank you my dear! I suffer--no living creature knows what I
+suffer with my nerves. I--shall be better soon. Don't mind anything I
+said; I must suffer, but it shall always be in silence, I always
+maintain that. No one shall know; I never speak of it; I am the grave,
+for silence. Do not--do not tell your uncle, Margaret, how you have seen
+me suffer. Do not betray my momentary weakness!"
+
+"Certainly not!" said Margaret, heartily. "I will not say a word, Cousin
+Sophronia, of course!"
+
+"He would wish to know!" said Miss Sophronia, smothering a sob into a
+sigh. "John Montfort would be furious if he thought I was ill-treated,
+and we were concealing it from him. He is a lion when once roused. Ah! I
+should be sorry for that woman. But forgiveness is a duty, my dear, and
+I forgive. See! I am myself again. Quite--" with a hysterical
+giggle--"quite myself! I--I will take the vinaigrette to my room with
+me, I think, my dear. Thank you! Dear Margaret! cherub child! how you
+have comforted me!" She went, and Margaret heard her sniffing along the
+entry; heard, and told herself she had no business to notice such
+things; and went back rather ruefully to her buttonholes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+A NEW TYPE.
+
+
+"My child, I thought you were never coming again!" said Mrs. Peyton. "Do
+you know that it is a week since I have seen you? I have been
+destroyed,--positively destroyed, with solitude."
+
+"I am so sorry," said Margaret. "I could not come before; truly I could
+not, Mrs. Peyton. And how have you been?"
+
+Mrs. Peyton leaned back on her pillows, with a little laugh. "Who cares
+how I have been?" she said, lightly. "What does it matter how I have
+been? Tell me some news, Margaret. I must have news. You are alive, you
+move, and have your being; tell me something that will make me feel
+alive, too."
+
+Margaret looked at the lady, and thought she looked very much alive. She
+was a vision of rose colour, from the silk jacket fluttering with
+ribbons, to the pink satin that shimmered through the lace bed-spread.
+The rosy colour almost tinted her cheeks, which were generally the hue
+of warm ivory. Her hair, like crisped threads of gold, was brought down
+low on her forehead, hiding any lines that might have been seen there;
+it was crowned by a bit of cobweb lace, that seemed too slight to
+support the pink ribbon that held it together. The lady's hands were
+small, and exquisitely formed, and she wore several rings of great
+value; her eyes were blue and limpid, her features delicate and regular.
+Evidently, this had been a great beauty. To Margaret, gazing at her in
+honest admiration, she was still one of the most beautiful creatures
+that could be seen.
+
+Mrs. Peyton laughed under the girl's simple look of pleasure. "You like
+my new jacket?" she said. "The doctor never so much as noticed it this
+morning. I think I shall send him away, and get another, who has eyes in
+his head. You are the only person who really cares for my clothes,
+Margaret, and they are the only interest I have in the world."
+
+"I wish you wouldn't talk so!" said Margaret, colouring. "You don't mean
+it, and why will you say it?"
+
+"I do mean it!" said the beautiful lady. "I mean every word of it.
+There's nothing else to care for, except you, you dear little
+old-fashioned thing. I like you, because you are quaint and truthful.
+Have you seen my pink pearl? You are not half observant, that's the
+trouble with you, Margaret Montfort."
+
+She held out her slender hand; Margaret took it, and bent over it
+affectionately. "Oh, what a beautiful ring!" she cried. "I never saw a
+pink pearl like this before, Mrs. Peyton, so brilliant, and such a deep
+rose colour. Isn't it very wonderful?"
+
+"The jeweller thought so," said Mrs. Peyton. "He asked enough for it; it
+might have been the companion to Cleopatra's. The opal setting is
+pretty, too, don't you think? And I have some new stones. You will like
+to see those."
+
+She took up a small bag of chamois leather, that lay on the bed beside
+her, opened it, and a handful of precious stones rolled out on the lace
+spread. Margaret caught after one and another in alarm. "Oh! Oh, Mrs.
+Peyton, they frighten me! Why, this diamond--I never saw such a diamond.
+It's as big as a pea."
+
+"Imperfect!" said the lady. "A flaw in it, you see; but the colour is
+good, and it does just as well for a plaything, though I don't like
+flawed things, as a rule. This sapphire is a good one,--deep, you see; I
+like a deep sapphire."
+
+"This light one is nearer your eyes," said Margaret, taking up a lovely
+clear blue stone.
+
+"Flatterer! People used to say that once; a long time ago. Heigh ho,
+Margaret, don't ever grow old! Take poison, or throw yourself out of the
+window, but don't grow old. It's a shocking thing to do."
+
+Margaret looked at her friend with troubled, affectionate eyes, and laid
+her hand on the jewelled fingers.
+
+"Oh, I mean it!" said the lady, with a pretty little grimace. "I mean
+it, Miss Puritan. See! Here's a pretty emerald. But you haven't told me
+the news. Mr. Montfort is well always?"
+
+"Always!" said Margaret. "We--we have a visitor just now, Mrs.
+Peyton,--some one you know."
+
+"Some one I know?" cried Mrs. Peyton. "I thought every one I knew was
+dead and buried. Who is it, child? Don't keep me in suspense. Can't you
+see that I am palpitating?"
+
+She laughed, and looked so pretty, and so malicious, that Margaret
+wanted to kiss and to shake her at the same moment.
+
+"It is a cousin of Uncle John's and of mine," she said; "Miss Sophronia
+Montfort."
+
+"_What!_" cried Mrs. Peyton, sitting up in bed. "Sophronia Montfort? You
+are joking, Margaret."
+
+Assured that Margaret was not joking, she fell back again on her
+pillows. "Sophronia Montfort!" she said, laughing softly. "I have not
+heard of her since the flood. How does John--how does Mr. Montfort
+endure it, Pussy? He was not always a patient man."
+
+Margaret thought her uncle one of the most patient men she had ever
+seen.
+
+"And how many men have you seen, little girl? Never mind! I will allow
+him all the qualities of the Patient Patriarch. He will need them all,
+if he is to have Sophronia long. I am sorry for you, Pussy! Come over as
+often as you can to see me. I am dull, but there are worse things than
+dullness."
+
+This was not very encouraging.
+
+"She--Cousin Sophronia--sent you a great many messages," Margaret said,
+timidly. "She--is very anxious to see you, Mrs. Peyton. She would like
+to come over some morning, and spend an hour with you."
+
+"If she does, I'll poison her!" said Mrs. Peyton, promptly. "Don't look
+shocked, Margaret Montfort; I shall certainly do as I say. Sophronia
+comes here at peril of her life, and you may tell her so with my
+compliments."
+
+Margaret sat silent and distressed, not knowing what to say. She had
+known very few people in her quiet life, and this beautiful lady, whom
+she admired greatly, also puzzled her sadly.
+
+"I cannot tell her that, can I, dear Mrs. Peyton?" she said, at last. "I
+shall tell her that you are not well,--that is true, most
+certainly,--and that you do not feel able to see her."
+
+"Tell her what you please," said Emily Peyton, laughing again. "If she
+comes, I shall poison her,--that is my first and last word. Tell her?
+Tell her that Emily Peyton is a wreck; that she lies here like a log,
+week after week, month after month, caring for nothing, no one caring
+for her, except a kind little girl, who is frightened at her wild talk.
+I might try the poison on myself first, Margaret; what do you think of
+that?" Then, seeing Margaret's white, shocked face, she laughed again,
+and fell to tossing the gems into the air, and catching them as they
+fell. "It would be a pity, though, just when I have got all these new
+playthings. Did you bring a book to read to me, little girl? I can't
+abide reading, but I like to hear your voice. You have something, I see
+it in your guilty face. Poetry, I'll be bound. Out with it, witch! You
+hope to bring me to a sense of the error of my ways. Why, I used to read
+poetry, Margaret, by the dozen yards. Byron,--does any one read Byron
+nowadays?"
+
+"My father was fond of Byron," said Margaret. "He used to read me bits
+of 'Childe Harold' and the 'Corsair;' I liked them, and I always loved
+the 'Assyrian.' But--I thought you might like something bright and
+cheerful to-day, Mrs. Peyton, so I brought Austin Dobson. Are you fond
+of Dobson?"
+
+"Never heard of him!" said the lady, carelessly. "Read whatever you
+like, child; your voice always soothes me. Will you come and be my
+companion, Margaret? Your uncle has Sophronia now; he cannot need you.
+Come to me! You shall have a thousand, two thousand dollars a year, and
+all the jewels you want. I'll have these set for you, if you like."
+
+[Illustration: "'DID YOU BRING A BOOK TO READ TO ME, LITTLE GIRL?'"]
+
+She seemed only half in earnest, and Margaret laughed. "You sent your
+last companion away, you know, Mrs. Peyton," she said. "I'm afraid I
+should not suit you, either."
+
+"My dear, that woman ate apples! No one could endure that, you know.
+Ate--champed apples in my ears, and threw the cores into my grate.
+Positively, she smelt of apples all day long. I had to have the room
+fumigated when she left. A dreadful person! One of her front teeth was
+movable, too, and set me distracted every time she opened her mouth. Are
+you ever going to begin?"
+
+Margaret read two or three of her favourite poems, but with little heart
+in her reading, for she felt that her listener was not listening. Now
+and then would come an impatient sigh, or a fretful movement of the
+jewelled hands; once a sapphire was tossed up in the air, and fell on
+the floor by Margaret's feet. Only when she began the lovely "Good
+Night, Babette!" did Mrs. Peyton's attention seem to fix. She listened
+quietly, and, at the end, drew a deep breath.
+
+"You call that bright and cheerful, do you?" Mrs. Peyton murmured.
+"Everything looks cheerful in the morning. Good night,--"I grow so
+old,"--how dare you read me such a thing as that, Margaret Montfort? It
+is an impertinence."
+
+"Indeed," said Margaret, colouring, and now really wounded. "I do not
+understand you at all to-day, Mrs. Peyton. I don't seem to be able to
+please you, and it is time for me to go."
+
+She rose, and the lady, her mood changing again in an instant, took her
+two hands, and drew her close to her side.
+
+"You are my only comfort," she said. "Do you hear that? You are the only
+person in this whole dreadful place that I would give the half of a
+burnt straw to see. Remember that, when I behave too abominably. Yes, go
+now, for I am going to have a bad turn. Send Antonia; and come again
+soon--soon, do you hear, Margaret? But remember--remember that the
+poison-bowl waits for Sophronia!"
+
+"What--shall I give her any message?" said poor Margaret, as she bent
+to kiss the white forehead between the glittering waves of hair.
+
+"Give her my malediction," said Mrs. Peyton. "Tell her it is almost a
+consolation for lying here, to think I need not see her. Tell her
+anything you like. Go now! Good-bye, child! Dear little quaint, funny,
+prim child, good-bye!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Margaret walked home sadly enough. She loved and admired her beautiful
+friend, but she did not understand her, and there was much that she
+could not approve. It seemed absurd, she often said to herself, for a
+girl of her age to criticise, to venture to disapprove, of a woman old
+enough to be her mother, one who had travelled the world over, and knew
+plenty of human nature, if little of books. Yet, the thought would come
+again, there was no age to right and wrong; and there were things that
+it could not be right to think, or kind to say, at eighteen or at
+eighty. And her uncle did not like Mrs. Peyton. Margaret felt that,
+without his having ever put it into words. Still, she was so beautiful,
+so fascinating,--and so kind to her! Perhaps, unconsciously, Margaret
+did miss a good deal the two young cousins who had been with her during
+her first year at Fernley; surely, and every hour, she missed her Aunt
+Faith, whose tenderness had been that of the mother she had never known.
+
+She was in no haste to go home; there was still an hour before Uncle
+John would come. There was little peace at home in these days, but a
+prying eye, and a tongue that was seldom still save in sleep. She had
+left Elizabeth in tears to-day, her precious linen having been pulled
+over, and all the creases changed because they ran the wrong way. In
+vain Margaret had reminded her of the heroine of the story she had liked
+so much, the angelic Elizabeth of Hungary. "It don't make much
+difference, Miss Margaret!" Elizabeth said. "I am no saint, miss, and
+all the roses in the world wouldn't make my table-cloths look fit to go
+on, now."
+
+Frances was "neither to hold or to bind;" even the two young girls whom
+the elder women had in training were tossing their heads and muttering
+over their brasses and their saucepans. The apple of discord seemed to
+be rolling all about the once peaceful rooms of Fernley House. "I'll go
+home through the woods," said Margaret, "and see if they have begun work
+on the bog yet."
+
+It was lovely in the woods. Margaret thought there could be no such
+woods in the world as these of Fernley. The pines were straight and
+tall, and there was little or no undergrowth; just clear, fragrant
+stretches of brown needles, where one could lie at length and look up
+into the whispering green, and watch the birds and squirrels. There was
+moss here and there; here and there, too, a bed of pale green ferns,
+delicate and plumy; but most of it was the soft red-brown carpet that
+Margaret loved better even than ferns. She walked slowly along, drinking
+in beauty and rest at every step. If she could only bring the sick lady
+out here, she thought, to breathe this life-giving air! Surely she would
+be better! She did not look ill enough to stay always in bed. They must
+try to bring it about.
+
+She stopped at the little brook, and sat down on a mossy stone. The
+water was clear and brown, breaking into white over the pebbles here and
+there. How delightful it would be to take off her shoes and stockings,
+and paddle about a little! Peggy, her cousin, would have been in the
+water in an instant, very likely shoes and all; but Margaret was timid,
+and it required some resolution to pull off her shoes and stockings, and
+a good deal of glancing over her shoulder, to make sure that no one was
+in sight. Indeed, who could be? The water was cool; oh, so cool and
+fresh! She waded a little way; almost lost her balance on a slippery
+stone, and fled back to the bank, laughing and out of breath. A frog
+came up to look at her, and goggled in amazement; she flipped water at
+him with her hand, and he vanished indignant. It would be very pleasant
+to walk along the bed of the stream, as far as the entrance to the bog
+meadow. Could she venture so far? No, for after all, it was possible
+that some of the workmen might have arrived and might be in the
+neighbourhood, though they were not to begin work till the next day.
+Very slowly Margaret drew her feet out of the clear stream where they
+twinkled and looked so white,--Margaret had pretty feet,--but she could
+not make up her mind to put on the shoes and stockings just yet. She
+must dry her feet; and this moss was delightful to walk on. So on she
+went, treading lightly and carefully, finding every step a pure
+pleasure, till she saw sunlight breaking through the green, and knew
+that she was coming to the edge of the peat bog. Ah, what memories this
+place brought to Margaret's mind! She could see her cousin Rita,
+springing out in merry defiance over the treacherous green meadow; could
+hear her scream, and see her sinking deep, deep, into the dreadful
+blackness below. Then, like a flash, came Peggy from the wood, this very
+wood she was walking in now, and ran, and crept, and reached out, and by
+sheer strength and cleverness saved Rita from a dreadful death, while
+she, Margaret, stood helpless by. Dear, brave Peggy! Ah, dear girls
+both! How she would like to see them this moment. Why! Why, what was
+that?
+
+Some one was whistling out there in the open. Whistling a lively,
+rollicking air, with a note as clear and strong as a bird's. Horror! The
+workmen must have come! Margaret was down on the grass in an instant,
+pulling desperately at her shoes and stockings. From the panic she was
+in, one might have thought that the woods were full of whistling
+brigands, all rushing in her direction, with murder in their hearts. She
+could hardly see; there was a knot in her shoe-string; why did she ever
+have shoes that tied? Her heart was beating, the blood throbbing in her
+ears,--and all the time the whistling went on, not coming nearer, but
+trilling away in perfect cheerfulness, though broken now and then, and
+coming in fits and starts. At last! At last the shoes were tied, and
+Margaret stood up, still panting and crimson, but feeling that she could
+face a robber, or even an innocent workman, without being disgraced for
+life. Cautiously she stole to the edge of the wood, and peeped between
+the pine-boles. The sun lay full on the peat bog, and it shone like a
+great, sunny emerald, friendly and smiling, with no hint of the black
+treachery at its heart. No hint? But look! Out in the very middle of the
+bog a figure was standing, balanced on a tussock of firm earth. A light,
+active figure, in blue jean jumper and overalls. One of the workmen, who
+did not know of the peril, and was plunging to his destruction? Margaret
+opened her lips to cry aloud, but kept silence, for the next moment she
+comprehended that the young man (he was evidently young, though his back
+was turned to her) knew well enough what he was about. He had a long
+pole in his hand, and with this he was poking and prodding about in the
+black depths beneath him. Now he sounded carefully a little way ahead of
+him, and then, placing his pole carefully on another firm spot, leaped
+to it lightly. The black bog water gurgled up about his feet, but he did
+not sink, only planted his feet more firmly, and went on with his
+sounding. Now he was singing. What was he singing? What a quaint, funny
+air!
+
+        "A wealthy young farmer of Plymouth, we hear,
+         He courted a nobleman's daughter, so dear;
+         And for to be married it was their intent,--
+
+Hi! muskrat!--come out of there!" He almost lost his balance, and
+Margaret screamed a very small scream, that could not be heard a dozen
+yards. Recovering himself, the young man began to make his way towards
+the shore, at a point nearly opposite to where Margaret stood. Springing
+lightly to the firm ground, he took off his cap, and made a low bow to
+the bog, saying at the same time something, Margaret could not hear
+what. Then, looking carefully about him, the young workman appeared to
+be selecting a spot of earth that was to his mind; having done so, he
+sat down, took out a note-book, and wrote with ardour for several
+minutes. Then he took off his cap, and ran his fingers through his
+hair--which was very curly, and bright red--till it stood up in every
+direction; then he turned three elaborate somersaults; and then, with
+another salute to the bog, and a prolonged whistle, he went off, leaping
+on his pole, and singing, as he went:
+
+        "And for to be mar-ri-ed it was their intent;
+         All friends and relations had given their consent."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+A LESSON IN GEOGRAPHY.
+
+
+"Margaret!"
+
+"Yes, uncle."
+
+"Can you come here a moment, my dear?"
+
+"Surely, Uncle John. I was looking for you, and could not find you."
+
+Margaret came running in from the garden. Her uncle was sitting in his
+private study, which opened directly on the garden, and communicated by
+a staircase in the wall with his bedroom. The study was a pleasant room,
+lined with books for the most part, but with some valuable pictures, and
+a great table full of drawers, and several presses or secretaries,
+filled with papers and family documents of every kind. Mr. John
+Montfort, recluse though he was, was the head of a large and important
+family connection. Few of his relatives ever saw him, but most of them
+were in more or less constant correspondence with him, and he knew all
+their secrets, though not one of them could boast of knowing his. He was
+the friend and adviser, the kindly helper, of many a distant cousin who
+had never met the kind, grave glance of his brown eyes. Peggy Montfort
+used to say, in the days when it had pleased him to appear as John
+Strong, the gardener, that it "smoothed her all out," just to look at
+him; and many people experienced the same feeling on receiving one of
+his letters. No one had it, however, so strongly as Margaret herself, or
+so she thought; and it was with a sensation of delightful relief that
+she answered his call this morning. Mr. Montfort turned round from the
+great table at which he was sitting, and held out his hand
+affectionately.
+
+"Come here, my child," he said, "and let me look at you. Look me
+straight in the eyes; yes, that will do. You are feeling well, Margaret?
+You look well, I must say."
+
+"Well? Of course, Uncle John! Am I ever anything else? I have never had
+a day's illness since I came here."
+
+"You do not feel the load of responsibility too much for your young
+shoulders?" Mr. Montfort went on. "It--it is not too dull for you here,
+alone month after month with an elderly man, and a hermit, and one who
+has the reputation of a grim and unfriendly old fellow? What do you say,
+Margaret?"
+
+The quick tears sprang to Margaret's eyes. She looked up at her uncle,
+and saw in his eyes the quizzical twinkle that always half puzzled and
+wholly delighted her. "Oh, uncle!" she cried; "you really deceived me
+this time! I might have known you were in fun,--but you were so grave!"
+
+"Grave?" said Mr. Montfort. "Never more so, I assure you. I may not have
+very serious doubts, in my own mind; nevertheless, I want your
+assurance. Do you, Margaret Montfort, find life a burden under existing
+circumstances, or do you find it--well, endurable for awhile yet?"
+
+"I find life as happy as I can imagine it," said Margaret, simply; and
+then, being absolutely truthful, she added, "That is,--I did find it
+so, Uncle John,--until these last two weeks."
+
+"Precisely!" said Mr. Montfort. "Not a word, my dear! I understand you.
+You are fond of children, I think, Margaret?"
+
+"Very fond," said Margaret, thinking that Uncle John was strange indeed
+to-day.
+
+"Get on well with them, I should suppose. You had a great deal of
+influence over Peggy, Margaret."
+
+"Dear, good Peggy! She was so ready to be influenced, Uncle John. She
+was just waiting to--to be helped on a little, don't you know?"
+
+"Yes; so Rita thought, if I remember aright!" said Mr. Montfort, dryly.
+"But with younger children, eh? You have had some experience of them,
+perhaps, Margaret?"
+
+Was he still joking? Margaret had not much sense of humour, and she was
+sadly puzzled again.
+
+"I--I love little children," she said. "Of course I do, Uncle John!"
+
+"Little children,--yes. But how about boys? Active, noisy,
+happy-go-lucky boys? Boys that smash windows, and yell, and tear their
+clothes on barbed-wire fences? How about those, Margaret?"
+
+"Is that the kind of boy you were, Uncle John?" asked Margaret, smiling.
+"Because if so, I am sure I shall like them very much."
+
+"Very well, my dear child!" he said. "You are well and happy, and we
+understand each other, and that is all right, very right. Now,
+Margaret,--I ask this for form's sake merely,--have you been in this
+room before, to-day?"
+
+"No, Uncle John," said Margaret.
+
+"Of course you have not. Knew it before I asked you. Do you notice
+anything unusual in the appearance of the room, my dear?"
+
+Margaret looked about her, wondering. It produced an impression
+of--well, not just the perfect order in which it was generally to be
+found. Several drawers were half open; a sheaf of papers lay on the
+floor, as if dropped by a startled hand. The writing things were
+disarranged, slightly, yet noticeably; for Mr. Montfort always kept them
+in one position, which was never changed save when they were in actual
+use.
+
+"Why, it looks--as if--as if you had been in a hurry, Uncle John," she
+said at last.
+
+"It looks as if _some one_ had been in a hurry," said Mr. Montfort,
+significantly. "I have not been in this room before, to-day; I found it
+in this condition. Never mind, my dear! I am going to write a letter
+now. Don't let me keep you any longer."
+
+Margaret went away, wondering much; her uncle joined her soon, and they
+looked at the roses together, and chatted as usual, and were happy, till
+Cousin Sophronia rapped on the window with her thimble, and asked
+whether they were coming in, or whether she should come out and join
+them.
+
+She was trying that evening, Cousin Sophronia. Nothing on the tea-table
+suited her, to begin with. She declared the beef tea unfit to touch, and
+desired Mr. Montfort to taste it, which he politely but firmly refused
+to do. "But it is not fit to eat!" cried the lady. "I insist on your
+tasting it, my dear John."
+
+"My dear Sophronia, I am extremely sorry it is not to your taste. If it
+is not good, I certainly do not want to taste it. Send it away and ask
+me to taste something that is good."
+
+The chicken was tough. "You should change your butcher, John. Or are
+these your own fowls? Chickens I will not call them; they must be two
+years old at least. Nothing disagrees with me like tough poultry. Nobody
+to look after the fowls properly, I suppose. I must take them in hand;
+not that I have had any experience myself of fowls, but an educated
+person, you understand. So important, I always say, to bring educated
+intelligence to bear on these matters. And then, these knives are so
+dull! Even if the fowls were tender, impossible to make an impression
+with such a knife as this. Elizabeth, what do you use for your knives?"
+
+Elizabeth used Bristol brick, as she always had done.
+
+"Ah, entirely out of date, Bristol brick. You must send for some of the
+preparation that William uses, John. Nothing like it. Something or
+other, it's called; somebody's--I can't remember now, but we will have
+it, never fear, dearest John. Shameful, for you to be subjected to dull
+knives _and_ tough poultry. What are these? Strawberries? Dear me! I did
+hope we could have raspberries this evening. One is so tired of
+strawberries by this time, don't you think so?"
+
+"I am sorry," said Mr. Montfort. "The raspberries will be ripe in a day
+or two, Sophronia; Willis thought they would hardly do to pick to-day."
+
+"Oh, but I assure you, my dearest John, Willis is entirely wrong. I
+examined the bushes myself; I went quite through them, and found them
+quite--entirely ripe. That was just Willis's laziness, depend upon it.
+These old servants" (Elizabeth had gone to get more cream, the lady
+having emptied the jug on her despised strawberries) "are too lazy to be
+of much use. Depend upon it, John, you will know no peace until you get
+rid of them all, and start afresh; I am thinking very seriously about
+it, I assure you, my dear fellow. Yes, I have been longing for days for
+a plate of raspberries and cream. I have so little appetite, that
+whenever I _can_ tempt it a little, the doctor says, I must not fail to
+do so. No more, dear, thank you! It is of no consequence, you know,
+really, not the least in the world; only, one can be of so much more
+use, when one keeps one's health. Ah, you remember what health I had as
+a child, John! You remember the dear old days here, when we were
+children together?"
+
+"I remember them very well, Sophronia," said Mr. Montfort, steadily.
+"And speaking of that, I am expecting some young visitors here in a day
+or two."
+
+Cousin Sophronia looked up with a jerk; Margaret looked at her uncle in
+surprise; he sipped his tea tranquilly, and repeated: "Some young
+visitors, yes. They will interest you, Sophronia, with your strong
+family feeling."
+
+"Who--who are they?" asked Miss Sophronia. "Most ill-judged, I must say,
+to have children here just now; who did you say they were, John?"
+
+"Cousin Anthony's children. They lost their mother some years ago, you
+remember; I fancy Anthony has had rather a hard time with them since.
+Now he has to go out West for the rest of the summer, and I have asked
+them to come here."
+
+For once Miss Sophronia was speechless. After a moment's silence,
+Margaret ventured to say, timidly, "How old are the children, Uncle
+John?"
+
+"Really, my dear, I hardly know. Two boys and a girl, I believe. I don't
+even know their names; haven't seen their father for twenty years. Good
+fellow, Anthony; a little absent-minded and heedless, but a good fellow
+always. I was glad to be able to oblige him."
+
+Miss Sophronia recovered her speech.
+
+"Really, my dear John," she said, with an acrid smile; "I had no idea
+you were such a philanthropist. If Fernley is to become an asylum for
+orphan relations--"
+
+"Sophronia!" said Mr. Montfort.
+
+His tone was quiet, but there was something in it that made the lady
+redden, and check herself instantly. Margaret wondered what would
+become of her, if her uncle should ever speak to her in that tone.
+
+"I am sure I meant nothing!" said Miss Sophronia, bridling and rallying
+again. "I am sure there was no allusion to our dearest Margaret. Absurd!
+But these children are very different. Why, Anthony Montfort is your
+second cousin, John. I know every shade of relationship; it is
+impossible to deceive me in such matters, John."
+
+"I should not attempt it, my dear cousin," said Mr. Montfort, quietly.
+"Anthony _is_ my second cousin. I will go further to meet you, and admit
+boldly that these children are my second cousins once removed, and
+Margaret's third cousins. Where shall we put them, Margaret?"
+
+"My dearest John," cried Miss Sophronia, in her gayest tone, "you are
+not to give it a thought! Is he, Margaret? No, my dear fellow! It is
+noble of you--Quixotic, I must think, but undeniably noble--to take in
+these poor little waifs; but you shall have no further thought about
+providing for them. Everything shall be arranged; I know the house from
+garret to cellar, remember. I will make every arrangement, dearest John,
+depend upon me!"
+
+The evenings were not very gay at Fernley just now. Miss Sophronia could
+not keep awake while any one else read aloud; so she took matters into
+her own hands, and read herself, for an hour by the clock. Her voice was
+high and thin, and kept Mr. Montfort awake; she was apt to emphasise the
+wrong words, which made Margaret's soul cry out within her; and she
+stopped every few minutes to chew a cardamom seed with great
+deliberation. This simple action had the effect of making both her
+hearers extremely nervous, they could not have explained why. Also, she
+was afflicted with a sniff, which recurred at regular intervals,
+generally in the middle of a sentence. Altogether the reading was a
+chastened pleasure nowadays; and this particular evening it was
+certainly a relief when she declared, before the hour was quite over,
+that she was hoarse, and must stop before the end of the chapter. On the
+whole, she thought it might be better for her to go to bed early, and
+take some warm drink. "It would never do for me to be laid up, with
+these children coming to be seen after!" she declared. So she departed,
+and Margaret and her uncle sat down to a game of backgammon, and played
+slowly and peacefully, lingering over their moves as long as they
+pleased, and tasting the pleasure of having no one say that they should
+play this or that, "of course!"
+
+The game over, Mr. Montfort leaned back in his chair, with an air of
+content.
+
+"This is pleasant!" he said, slowly. "Margaret, my dear, this is very
+pleasant!" Margaret smiled at him, but made no reply. None was needed:
+the uncle and niece were so much alike in tastes and feelings, that they
+hardly needed speech, sometimes, to know each other's thoughts. Both
+were content to sit now silent, in the soft, cheerful candle-light,
+looking about on the books and pictures that they loved, and feeling the
+silence like a cordial.
+
+Suddenly Mr. Montfort's air of cheerful meditation changed. He sat
+upright, and leaned slightly forward. He seemed to listen for
+something. Then suddenly, softly, he rose, and with silent step crossed
+the room and stood a moment beside the wall. It was a very different
+face that he turned to Margaret the next instant.
+
+"My dear," he said, "there is some one in my study."
+
+"In your study, Uncle John? What do you mean? That is,--how can you
+tell, uncle?"
+
+"Come here, and listen!" said her uncle. Margaret stole to his side, and
+listened, her head, like his, near the wall. She heard the crackling of
+paper; the sound of a drawer pulled softly out; the clank, muffled, but
+unmistakable, of brass handles. What did it mean? She looked to her
+uncle for explanation. He shook his head and motioned her to be silent.
+Then, taking her hand in his, he led her softly from the room. Margaret
+followed, greatly wondering, across the wide hall; through the low door
+that led to the White Rooms, now her own; into her own sitting-room, or
+Aunt Faith's room, as she still loved to call it. Here Mr. Montfort
+released her hand, and again motioned her to be silent.
+
+"I will explain by and by, my dear," he said. "Follow me, now, and learn
+another lesson in Fernley geography; I was keeping it for a surprise
+some day, but never mind. Where is this place?"
+
+Margaret noticed, in all her confusion of surprise, that the great white
+chair was pushed away from its usual place. Her uncle stepped in behind
+the table near which it always stood, and passed his hand along the
+smooth white panel of the wall. Noiselessly it swung open, revealing a
+dark space. Margaret obeyed his gesture, and following, found herself in
+a narrow passage, carpeted with felt, on which her feet made no sound.
+They went forward some way; it was quite dark, but she followed her
+uncle's guidance, and he trod as surely as if it were broad daylight.
+Presently he stopped, and, with a pressure of the hand, bade her listen
+again. The rustling of paper sounded very clear now; there was another
+rustle, too, the rustle of silk. Suddenly, light flashed upon them;
+Margaret felt herself drawn swiftly forward; there was a smothered
+exclamation in her uncle's voice, followed by a scream from another.
+
+They were standing in Mr. Montfort's study. The room was lighted by a
+single candle, that stood on the writing-table; beside this table,
+backed against it in an attitude of terror and surprise, stood Miss
+Sophronia Montfort, her hands full of documents, her eyes glaring. There
+was a moment of silence, and Margaret counted her heart-beats. Then--
+
+"Can I be of any assistance to you, my dear Sophronia?" asked Mr.
+Montfort, blandly. "You seem in distress; allow me to relieve you of
+some of these." He took the papers quietly, and laid them on the table.
+Miss Sophronia gasped once, twice; opened and shut her eyes several
+times, and swallowed convulsively; when she spoke, it was with a
+fluttering voice, but in something like her ordinary tone.
+
+"My dear John! How you startled me! A--a--little surprise for you, my
+dear fellow. Such a shocking condition as your papers were in. I
+thought--a kindness--to bring a little order out of chaos; he! he!
+ahem! my throat is troublesome to-night. A warm drink! Yes, my dear
+John, I remembered the old passage, you see. I said, why should I
+disturb the dear fellow, to ask him for the key to the outer door? And
+really, John, these papers are too--too bad!"
+
+She shook her head in a manner that was meant to be playful; but
+suddenly the smile dropped from her face like a mask; for Mr. Montfort
+did a singular thing. He bent his head forward slightly; fixed his eyes
+on his cousin with a peculiar expression, and advanced slowly, one step.
+"Sophronia!" he said.
+
+Miss Sophronia began to tremble.
+
+"Don't, John!" she cried. "John Montfort, don't do it! I am your own
+cousin. Your father and mine were brothers, John. I hope I know my
+duty--ah, don't! I will not, John Montfort!"
+
+Margaret looked from one to the other in blank amazement. The lady
+seemed in the extremity of terror. Her uncle--was this her uncle?
+Instead of the grave, dignified gentleman, she seemed to see a boy; a
+boy intent on mischief, every motion of him alive with power and
+malice. Step by step he advanced, his hands clenched, his head bent
+forward, his eyes still fixed, bright and strong, on his cousin.
+
+"Sophronia!" he said, "I am coming! Sophronia! Sophronia! Sophronia!"
+Each time he quickened voice and step. He was almost upon her; with one
+wild shriek Miss Sophronia turned and fled. Her skirts whisked along the
+secret passage; they heard the door bang. She was gone.
+
+Mr. Montfort sat down in his study chair and laughed long and silently.
+
+"Don't look so frightened, my dear!" he said, at last. "It was a scurvy
+trick, but she deserved it. I--I used to run Sophronia up-stairs,
+Margaret, when she was a troublesome girl. It always frightened her. I'd
+have done it in another minute, if she had not run, but I knew she
+would. Poor Sophronia! I suppose something of the boy stays in us, my
+dear, as long as we live. I--I am afraid I should rather have enjoyed
+running Sophronia up-stairs."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE DAUNTLESS THREE.
+
+
+The next morning Miss Sophronia kept her bed; her cold, she said, was
+too severe to admit of her joining the family at breakfast. Margaret
+waited on her with an uneasy sense of guilt in general, though she could
+not accuse herself of any special sin. She did her best to be
+sympathetic and dutiful, having been brought up to respect her elders
+sincerely. But she was puzzled all the same, and when it came to any
+question between her cousin and her uncle, there were no more doubts.
+She must put herself out of the way as much as possible, and give up,
+wherever her own pleasure was concerned,--where it was any matter
+connected with Uncle John, she would be the Rock of Gibraltar. This
+being settled, the Rock of Gibraltar brought raspberries for Cousin
+Sophronia's breakfast, and made her room bright with flowers, and tried
+to make cheer for her. The poor lady was rather subdued, and told
+Margaret she was a cherub child; then declared she would not be a burden
+on any one, and sent the girl away to "amuse herself."
+
+"Be happy as a butterfly, my dear, all the morning; don't give me a
+thought, I beg of you. If Frances would have a new-laid egg ready for me
+at eleven--positively a new-laid one, Margaret! Perhaps you would bring
+it yourself from the hen-yard. I have no confidence in servants, and it
+would make a pleasant little trip for you. So important, I always say,
+for the young to have something useful to mingle with their sports.
+Boiled three minutes and a half, my love! I doubt if I can eat it, but
+it is my duty to make the attempt. Bless you! Good-bye! If you happen to
+have nothing to do about twelve, you might bring your work and sit with
+me. I am the most sociable creature in the world; I cannot endure to be
+alone when I am ill; but don't have me on your mind, my love, for a
+single instant."
+
+All the duties attended to, Margaret spent a delightful hour, with
+Elizabeth's assistance, in making ready the rooms for the newcomers. The
+little girl was to have Peggy's room, next her own, and that needed
+nothing save fresh flowers in the vases, and fresh ribbons on the
+curtains. But the boys were to have the old nursery, the great room that
+ran across the whole width of the house, on the third floor. It was a
+pleasant room, with dormer windows facing east and south, a great
+fireplace, with a high wire fender, and a huge sofa, covered with red
+chintz dragons. A funny sofa it was, with little drawers let in along
+the sides. John Montfort and his brothers used to lie on this sofa, when
+they had the measles and whooping-cough, and play with the brass
+drawer-handles, and keep their treasures in the drawers. The windows
+were barred, and there was a gate across the landing, at the top of the
+stairs. Elizabeth had suggested taking away the gate and the bars, "such
+big young gentlemen as these would be, most likely, sir!" but Mr.
+Montfort shook his head very decidedly.
+
+"If they are Montfort boys, Elizabeth, they will need all the bars we
+can give them. Master Richard was twelve, when he squeezed himself
+between these, and went along the gutter hanging by his hands, till he
+came to the spout, and shinned down it. Never make things too easy for a
+Montfort boy!"
+
+In one corner stood a huge rocking-horse, with saddle and bridle of
+crimson leather, rather the worse for wear. He was blind of one eye, and
+his tail had seen service, but he was a fine animal for all that.
+Margaret hunted about in the attic, and found a box of ninepins.
+Marbles, too; Uncle John had told her that there must be marbles
+somewhere, in a large bag of flowered purple calico, with a red string.
+They had been there forty years; they must be there still. She found
+them at last, hanging from a peg of one of the great beams. On the beam
+close by was written:
+
+        "This is my Peg. If any Pig touches my Peg,
+        that Pig will be Pegged. Signed, JOHN MONTFORT."
+
+"Oh," thought Margaret, "what a pleasant boy Uncle John must have been!
+What good times we should have had together!" And then she reflected
+that he could not possibly have been so nice a boy as he was an uncle,
+and was content.
+
+The marbles, and the rocking-horse, and--what else ought there to be?
+Tops! Uncle John had said something about tops. Here Margaret screamed,
+and fled to the attic door. Something was moving on the beam by which
+she had been standing, perched on a chair. Something rolled slowly
+along, half the length of the beam, and dropped to the floor and rolled
+towards her. Laughing now, Margaret stooped and picked up a great ball,
+a leather ball, striped red and black. On one of the red stripes was
+written, in large, unconventional letters, "Roger." It was her father's
+ball! Margaret held the toy very tenderly in her hands, and tried to see
+the worn, thoughtful face she remembered so well, a rosy boy's face,
+full of light and laughter. She had seen, yesterday, strangely enough,
+her uncle's boyish looks, revealed in a flash of mischief; it was less
+easy to see her father's.
+
+As she stood meditating, the sound of wheels was heard outside. Margaret
+ran to look out of the little gable window, then clapped her hands
+together, in amazement and pleasure. The children had come!
+
+When she reached the verandah, they were already standing there, facing
+Mr. Montfort, who had come out by an early train, and was standing
+looking at them with amused attention, holding the little girl's hands
+in his.
+
+"And what are your names, my dears?" he was saying.
+
+"Basil, Merton, and Susan D.," replied the elder boy, promptly, while
+three pairs of sharp eyes were fastened on the strange uncle.
+
+"Battle, Murder, and Sudden Death!" said Mr. Montfort under his breath.
+He had no idea that any one could hear him, but a shriek of laughter
+startled him, and made Margaret jump.
+
+"That's what Puppa calls us!" cried Basil, springing lightly up and down
+on the tips of his toes. "We didn't know whether you would or not; he
+said you would pretty soon, anyhow. How do you do, Uncle John? We are
+very well, thank you. I am thirteen, and Mert is twelve, and Susan D. is
+ten. Puppa hopes we shall not be troublesome, and here are the keys of
+the trunks."
+
+The boy drew a long breath, and looked round him with an air of triumph.
+
+"Well, I should think you would know it!" said his brother. "Been saying
+it all the way over here."
+
+"More than you could do!" retorted his elder.
+
+"Wouldn't do it anyhow, so there!" said the younger.
+
+[Illustration: "THE LITTLE GIRL HAD NEVER STIRRED, BUT STOOD GAZING UP
+AT THE BIG MAN WHO HELD HER HANDS."]
+
+These last remarks had been carried on in an undertone, the set speech
+having been delivered slowly and with much dignity. Finally each boy
+kicked the other's shins surreptitiously, and then both stared again at
+their uncle. The little girl had never stirred, but stood gazing up at
+the big man who held her hands so lightly and yet so kindly, and who had
+such bright, deep, quiet brown eyes. Margaret, standing in the doorway,
+scrutinised the three, and felt a sinking at the heart. Basil Montfort
+was a tall boy for his age, slender and wiry, with tow-coloured hair
+that stood straight on end, thin lips that curled up at the corners with
+a suggestion of malice, and piercing gray eyes, which he had a trick of
+screwing up till they were like gimlet points. The second, Merton, was
+decidedly better-looking, with pretty curly hair, and blue eyes with an
+appealing look in them; but Margaret fancied he looked a little sly; and
+straightway took herself to task for the unkind fancy. The little girl
+was Basil over again, save that the tow-coloured hair was put back with
+a round comb, and the gray eyes widely opened, instead of half shut,
+when she looked at any one. All three children were neatly dressed, and
+all looked as if they were not used to their clothes.
+
+"Well," said Mr. Montfort at last, after a long, silent look at each one
+in turn, "I am very glad to see you, children. I hope we are going to be
+good friends. Boys, I was a boy myself, just two or three years ago,--or
+it may be four,--so you can ask me about anything you want to know.
+Susan, I never was a girl, you see, but that need not make much
+difference. Your Cousin Margaret--oh, here _is_ your Cousin Margaret!
+She will be good to you, and--and in short, you are all very welcome to
+Fernley, and there is a swing in the garden, and the rest you can find
+out for yourselves."
+
+Margaret came forward, and shook hands with the boys, and kissed the
+little girl warmly. Evidently Susan D. was not used to being kissed, for
+she blushed, and her brothers giggled rather rudely, till they caught
+Mr. Montfort's eye, and stopped.
+
+"Young gentlemen," said Uncle John, with an emphasis which brought the
+blood to Basil's cheek, "dinner will be ready"--he looked at his
+watch--"in an hour. I daresay they would like something now, Margaret;
+crackers and cheese, gingerbread,--what? You'll find them something."
+Mr. Montfort nodded kindly, and strode away to his study. Margaret was
+left alone with the three strange children, feeling shyer than ever
+before in her life. The meeting with the three cousins of her own age,
+two years ago, was nothing to this.
+
+"Are you hungry, boys?" she asked.
+
+"Starving!" said Merton.
+
+"He isn't," said Susan D. "He's been eating all the way, ever since we
+left home. He's a greedy,--that's what he is." Then, scared at her own
+voice, she hung her head down, and put her finger in her mouth.
+
+"Oh, well," said Margaret, "I daresay you would all be hungry before
+dinner-time, so suppose we come into the pantry and see what we can
+find. Will you come with me, Susan, dear?" She held out her hand, but
+the little girl evaded it, and followed in the rear, holding her own
+hands behind her back.
+
+"Will you call me Cousin Margaret?" the girl went on. "And shall I call
+you Susie, or do you like Susan better?"
+
+Susan not replying, Basil replied for her. "Susan D. we call her; but
+Puppa calls her Sudden Death when she acts bad; she mostly does act
+bad."
+
+"Don't neither!" muttered Susan D., scowling.
+
+"Do teither!" retorted both brothers in a breath.
+
+"She ain't shy!" Basil went on. "She's sulky, that's all. Merton's shy,
+and I ain't. I'll tell you things, when you ask me; they won't, half the
+time."
+
+"Well, I haven't asked you anything, yet, have I?" said Margaret,
+smiling, and feeling more at ease with this boy, somehow, than with
+either of the others. "What can you tell me that is pleasant about
+them?"
+
+"That's so!" said Basil, and his lips parted suddenly in a smile that
+positively transfigured his plain face. "Well, Mert's the best boxer,
+and he can sing and draw. I'm the best runner, of course, 'count of my
+legs being long, you see." He held up a long, thin leg for Margaret's
+inspection. "Some fellows called me Spider once, and Susan D. scratched
+their faces for 'em. She's great at scratching, Susan D. is."
+
+"My dear!" said poor Margaret. "I thought you were going to tell me the
+pleasant things, Basil."
+
+"Ain't I?" said the boy, innocently. "She was standing up for me, you
+see. She always stands up for me; Mert is a sne---- well, what I was
+going to say, she's a pretty good runner, for a girl, and she can shin a
+rope too, better than any of us. Mert can hang on longest with his
+teeth."
+
+"What _do_ you mean, child?" cried Margaret, laughing. Basil flashed his
+brilliant smile on her again.
+
+"Tables," he explained. "Yes, please, crackers; and quite a lot of
+cheese, please."
+
+"Greedy Gobble!" interjected Merton.
+
+"Well, I like that!" said Basil. "Who ate my sandwich, when I was
+looking out of the window? I tell you what, I'd punch your head for two
+cents, young feller!"
+
+"Boys," said Margaret, decidedly, "I cannot have this! While you are
+with me, I expect you to behave decently."
+
+"Yes, ma'am!" said both boys, with ready cheerfulness; and Basil
+continued his explanation.
+
+"We see which can hang on to a table longest, don't you know, by your
+teeth. Did ever you?"
+
+"No, I certainly never did; and--I don't think you'd better try it here,
+Basil. It must be very hard on your teeth, besides ruining the table."
+
+"It ain't healthy for the table," Basil admitted. "You ought to see the
+tables at home! It makes like a little pattern round the edge,
+sometimes. Quite pretty, I think. Say, are you the boss here?"
+
+Seated on the pantry dresser, swinging his legs, the young gentleman
+seemed as much at home as if he had spent his life at Fernley. The two
+other children were eating hastily and furtively, as if they feared each
+bite might be their last. Basil crunched his crackers and nibbled his
+cheese with an air of perfect unconcern. "Are you the boss here?" he
+repeated.
+
+"Am I in authority, do you mean?" asked Margaret, who could not abide
+slang of any kind. "No, indeed, Basil. Your Uncle John is the head of
+the house, in every possible way. I hope you are all going to be very
+good and obedient. He is the kindest, best man in the whole world."
+
+"I think he's bully," said Basil. "I guess you're bully too, ain't you?
+And it's a bully place. Hi, Mert, there's a squirrel! Look at him
+running up that tree. My! Wish I had a pea-shooter!"
+
+"Bet you couldn't hit him if you had!" cried Merton, as all three
+children watched the squirrel with breathless interest.
+
+"Bet I could!" said Basil, contemptuously.
+
+"Guess he could hit it when you couldn't hit a barn in the next county!"
+cried Susan D. in a kind of small shriek; then she caught Margaret's
+eye, blushed furiously, and tried to get behind her bread and butter.
+
+"I say! can we go out in the garden?" cried Basil.
+
+"Yes, indeed, but wouldn't you like to come up and see your rooms first?
+Such pleasant rooms! I am sure you will like them."
+
+But none of the children cared to see the pleasant rooms. Receiving
+permission to play till they heard the dinner-bell, they fled suddenly,
+as if the constable were at their heels. Margaret saw their legs
+twinkling across the grass-plot. They were yelling like red Indians.
+Susan D.'s hat blew off at the third bound; Basil shied his cap into a
+bush with a joyous whoop, then snatched off his brother's and threw that
+after it. Merton grappled him with a shout, and they rolled over and
+over at the feet of their sister, who bent down and pummelled them both
+with might and main, shrieking with excitement. As Margaret gazed
+aghast, preparing to fly and interfere, she heard a quiet laugh behind
+her, and turning, saw Mr. Montfort looking over her shoulder.
+
+"Battle, Murder, and Sudden Death!" he said. "Separate them? On no
+account, my dear! They have been shut up for hours, and their muscles
+need stretching. Don't be alarmed, my child; I know this kind." Poor
+Margaret sighed. She did not know this kind.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE FIRST CONQUEST.
+
+
+When Margaret went to bed that night, she felt as if she had been
+whipped with rods. Head, heart, and back, all ached in sympathy. The
+children were in bed; that is, she had left them in bed; their staying
+there was another matter; however, all three were tired after their
+journey, and Uncle John thought the chances were that they would fall
+asleep before they had time to think of doing anything else. Among the
+three, the little girl was the one who oppressed Margaret with a sense
+of defeat, a sense of her own incompetence. She had not expected to
+understand the boys; she had never had any experience of boys; but she
+had expected to win the little girl to her, and make her a little
+friend, perhaps almost a sister. Susan D. received her advances with an
+elfish coldness that had something not human in it, Margaret thought.
+The child was like a changeling, in the old fairy stories. That evening,
+when bedtime came, Margaret went up with her to the pretty room, hoping
+for a pleasant time. She sat down and took the little girl on her knee.
+"Let us have a cuddle, dear!" she said; "put your head down on my
+shoulder, and I will sing you one of my own bedtime songs, that my nurse
+used to sing to me."
+
+Susan D. sat bold upright, not a yielding joint in all her body.
+
+"Don't you like songs?" asked Margaret, stroking the tow-coloured hair
+gently.
+
+"No!" said the child; and with the word she wriggled off Margaret's lap,
+and stood twisting her fingers awkwardly, and frowning at the floor.
+Margaret sighed.
+
+"Then we will undress and get to bed," she said, trying to speak
+lightly. "You must be very tired, little girl. Isn't that a pretty bed?
+Is your bed at home like this? Tell me about your room, won't you,
+Susie?"
+
+But Susan D. still twisted her fingers and frowned, and would not say a
+single word. She made no resistance, however, when Margaret helped her
+off with her clothes. "You are big enough to undress yourself, of
+course," the girl said, "but I will help you to-night, because you are
+tired, and you must feel strange, coming so far away from home. Poor
+little mite!" The child looked so small and slight, standing with her
+dress off, and her thin shoulders sticking out like wings, that Margaret
+felt a sudden thrill of compassion, and stooping, kissed the freckled
+cheek warmly. The colour came into the child's face, but she stood like
+a stock, never moving a muscle, never raising her eyes to take note of
+the pretty, tasteful arrangements to which Margaret had given such
+thought and pains. But the undressing went on, and presently she was in
+her little nightgown, with her hair unbraided and smoothly brushed. She
+might be pretty, Margaret decided, when she filled out a little, and had
+a pleasanter expression. She was so little! Surely there must be one
+more effort, this first night.
+
+"Shall I hear you say your prayers, dear?" asked Margaret, taking the
+child's two hands in hers. Susan D. shook her head resolutely.
+
+"No? You like better to say them by yourself? Then I will come back in a
+few minutes, and tuck you up in your little nest."
+
+The child gave no sign; and when Margaret came back, she was standing in
+the same spot, in the same position. She got into bed obediently, and
+made no resistance when Margaret tucked the bedclothes in, patted her
+shoulder, and gave her a last good-night kiss. She might as well have
+kissed the pillow for any response there was, but at least there had
+been no shrinking this time. "Good night, Susan D.," said Margaret,
+cheerfully, pausing at the door. "Good night, dear! Susan, I think you
+must answer when you are spoken to."
+
+"Good night!" said Susan D. Margaret shut the door softly and went away.
+As she passed along the corridor that ran round the hall, something
+struck her forehead lightly. She looked up, and narrowly escaped getting
+a fish-hook in her eye. Merton looked over the banisters, and smiled
+appealingly. "I was fishin'," he said. "There's fish-lines in the
+drawers of the sofa. I guess I 'most caught a whale, didn't I?"
+
+"Merton, you must go to bed at once!" said Margaret. "How long have you
+been standing there in your nightgown? You might catch your death." (It
+had been one of old Katy's maxims that if you stood about in your
+nightgown for however short a time, you inevitably got your death.
+Margaret had never doubted it till this moment.) "I am coming up now to
+tuck you both up!" she added, with a happy inspiration.
+
+There was a hasty scuffle, then a rush, accompanied by smothered
+squeals. When Margaret reached the nursery, both boys were in bed.
+Merton's blue eyes were wide open, and fixed on her with mournful
+earnestness; Basil was asleep, the clothes tucked in well under his
+chin. He lay on his back, his mouth slightly opened; he was snoring
+gently, but unobtrusively. Poor child! no doubt he was tired enough. But
+how had Merton managed to make so _much_ noise?
+
+Margaret looked around her, and Merton's gaze grew more intense. His own
+clothes lay in a heap on the floor, but where were his brother's?
+And--and what was that, smoothly folded over the back of a chair? A
+clean nightgown?
+
+But when Merton saw his cousin's eyes fix on the nightgown, he exploded
+in a bubbling laugh. "He--he ain't undressed at all!" he cried,
+gleefully. "He never! he's got his boots on, and every single--" The
+speech got no further. There was a flying whirl of blankets, a leap, and
+Basil was on his brother's chest, pounding him with right good will.
+"You sneak!" he cried. "I'll teach you--"
+
+There was no time to think; the child would be killed before her eyes.
+Margaret took a firm hold on Basil's collar, and dragged him off by main
+strength, he still clawing the air. Unconsciously, she gave him a hearty
+shake before she let go; the boy staggered back a few paces; who would
+have thought that Margaret had such strength in her slender wrists? The
+crisis over, she panted, and felt faint for an instant; Basil, after a
+moment of bewilderment, looked at her, and the smile broke all over his
+face, a moment before black with rage.
+
+"Got me that time, didn't you?" he said, simply. "He's a mean sneak,
+Mert is. I'll serve him out to-morrow, don't you be afraid!"
+
+"Basil, what does this mean?" asked Margaret, severely. "Why are you not
+in bed?" Then as Basil sent an eloquent glance at the pillow where his
+head had been lying so quietly, she added, "Why are you not undressed, I
+mean? I am afraid you have been very naughty, both of you, boys."
+
+"Well, you see," said Basil, apologetically, "there was all kinds of
+things in the drawers, and then I got on the rocking-horse, and it
+wasn't but just a minute before you came up. I say, isn't this a bully
+room, Cousin Margaret? I think Uncle John was awfully good to give us
+such a room as this. Why doesn't he sleep here himself? Bet I would, if
+I owned the house. I say, do those marbles belong to him?"
+
+"I suppose so," said Margaret, smiling in spite of herself; "yes, I am
+sure they were his. But now, Basil,--"
+
+"Well, see here!" cried the boy, excitedly. "Because, you see, they're
+worth a lot, some of 'em. Why, there's agates,--why, they are perfect
+beauties! Just look!" He ran towards the sofa, but Margaret stopped him
+resolutely.
+
+"To-morrow, Basil!" she said. "To-morrow you shall show me everything
+you like; but now you must go to bed, this very moment. I am pretty
+tired, but I shall sit outside on the landing, till you tell me that you
+are in bed; then I shall come in and make sure for myself, and tuck you
+in."
+
+Basil illuminated the room again. "Will you?" he cried. "Honest, will
+you tuck us in?"
+
+Margaret nodded, wondering, and withdrew to the landing, where she sat
+with her head in her hands, saying to herself, "Let nothing disturb
+thee, nothing affright thee--"
+
+Basil spoke through the keyhole. "Cousin Margaret!"
+
+"Yes, Basil; are you ready so soon?"
+
+"No, not quite. I wanted to say,--do you think you ought to spank me?"
+
+"No, certainly not, my dear!"
+
+"'Cause you can, if you think you'd better."
+
+"No, no, Basil; only do get to bed, like a good boy!"
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+A sudden plunge was heard, a thump, and the agonised shriek of a
+suffering bedstead. "Now I'm in bed!" said Basil. Margaret picked up the
+two heaps of clothing, and laid them neatly on two chairs. "I want you
+to do this yourselves after this," she explained. "It isn't nice to
+leave your things on the floor."
+
+"All right!" "We will!" said both boys; and then they joined in a
+fervent appeal to her not to turn their knickerbockers upside down.
+"'Cause all the things in your pockets spill out," said Merton.
+
+"And then you get 'em mixed, and can't tell what belongs where," cried
+Basil. "Thank you, Cousin Margaret; that's bully!"
+
+Margaret tucked Merton in first; he looked so dimpled and pretty, she
+was tempted to offer a caress, but the recollection of Susan D. kept
+her from it. Turning away, she came to Basil's bed. The boy watched her
+intently as she smoothed the bedclothes with practised hand, and tucked
+them in exactly right, not too tight and not too loose. There are
+several ways of tucking a person into bed. With a pleasant "Good night!"
+she was about to leave him, but something in the boy's face held her.
+"Is there anything you want, my dear?" she asked, gently. Basil looked
+at her; then turned his head away. "Mother used to put me to bed!" he
+muttered, so low that Margaret could hardly hear. She did hear, however;
+and instantly stooping over the boy, she kissed him warmly. Thank
+Heaven, here was one who did want to be loved. "Dear Basil," she said,
+tenderly. "Dear boy, you shall tell me all about her some day. Will
+you?" The boy nodded; his eyes were eloquent, but he did not speak. Her
+heart still warm, Margaret looked across at Merton; but Basil plucked
+her gown and whispered, "He--doesn't know. He can't remember her.
+Perhaps you can teach him--"
+
+Margaret nodded, kissed the boy's white forehead once more, and went
+away with a lighter heart than she had brought with her. On the floor
+below she paused to listen at Susan's door; all was quiet there. Cousin
+Sophronia was asleep, too, no doubt; Margaret had spent part of the
+evening with her, reading, and listening to her doleful prophecies of
+the miseries entailed by the coming of "these dreadful children!" It was
+nearly her own bedtime, too, for between Cousin Sophronia and the
+children the evening had slipped away all too fast. But surely she might
+have a few minutes of peace and joy? The library door stood open; from
+it there came a stream of cheerful light, and the perfume of a Manila
+cigar. Oh, good! Uncle John had not gone to his study; he was waiting
+for her. As she passed Miss Sophronia's door, Margaret fancied she heard
+a call; but she was not sure, and for once she was rebellious. She flew
+down-stairs, and ran into the library.
+
+The pleasant room lay in shade, save for the bright gleam of the
+reading-lamp. Among the books which lined the walls from floor to
+ceiling, the gilded backs of the smaller volumes caught the light and
+sent it back in soft, broken twinklings; but the great brown folios on
+the lower shelves were half lost in a comfortable duskiness. The crimson
+curtains were drawn before the open windows, and the evening wind waved
+them lightly now and then, sending new shadows to chase the old ones
+along the walls and ceiling. The thick old Turkey carpet held every
+possible shade of soft, faded richness, and the brown leather armchairs
+looked as if they had been sat in by generations of book-loving
+Montforts, as indeed they had. And amid all this sober comfort, by the
+great library table with its orderly litter of magazines and new books,
+sat Mr. John Montfort, book in hand and cigar in mouth, a breathing
+statue of Ease, in a brown velvet smoking-jacket. He looked up, and,
+seeing Margaret in the doorway, laid down his book, and held out his
+hand with a gesture of welcome. "Well, my girl," he said, "come and tell
+me all about it!"
+
+With a great sigh of relief, Margaret dropped on the rug at her uncle's
+feet, and laid her tired head on his knee. "Uncle John!" she said. "Oh,
+Uncle John!" That seemed to be all she wanted to say; she shut her eyes,
+and gave herself up to the comfort which only comes with rest after
+fatigue.
+
+Mr. Montfort stroked her hair gently, with a touch as light as a
+woman's. Then he took up his book again, and began to read aloud. It was
+a curious old book, bound in black leather, with great silver clasps.
+
+        "In that isle is a dead sea or lake, that has
+        no bottom; and if any thing falls into it, it
+        will never come up again. In that lake grow
+        reeds, which they call Thaby, that are thirty
+        fathoms long; and of these reeds they make fair
+        houses. And there are other reeds, not so long,
+        that grow near the land, and have roots full a
+        quarter of a furlong long or more, at the knots
+        of which roots precious stones are found that
+        have great virtues; for he who carries any of
+        them upon him may not be hurt by iron or steel;
+        and therefore they who have those stones on
+        them fight very boldly both by sea and land;
+        and therefore, when their enemies are aware of
+        this, they shoot at them darts without iron or
+        steel, and so hurt and slay them. And also of
+        those reeds they make houses and ships and
+        other things, as we here make houses and ships
+        of oak, or of any other tree. And let no man
+        think I am joking, for I have seen these reeds
+        with my own eyes."
+
+The words flowed on and on; Margaret felt her troubles smoothing
+themselves out, melting away. "Who is this pleasant person?" she asked,
+without raising her head.
+
+"Sir John Mandeville," said her uncle. "Rest a bit still, and we'll go
+and see the Chan of Cathay with him. Here we are!" He turned a page or
+two, and read again:
+
+        "The emperor has his table alone by himself,
+        which is of gold and precious stones; or of
+        crystal, bordered with gold and full of
+        precious stones; or of amethysts, or of lignum
+        aloes, that comes out of Paradise; or of ivory
+        bound or bordered with gold. And under the
+        emperor's table sit four clerks, who write all
+        that the emperor says, be it good or evil; for
+        all that he says must be held good; for he may
+        not change his word nor revoke it."
+
+"Oh, but I shouldn't like that, Uncle John!" cried Margaret. "I
+shouldn't like that at all! Should you?"
+
+"I don't think it would be agreeable," Mr. Montfort admitted. "But when
+we come to anything we don't like, we can suppose that Sir John
+was--shall we call it embroidering? And how does my girl feel now? Are
+the wrinkles smoothing out at all?"
+
+"All smooth!" replied the girl. "All gone, Uncle John. I was only a
+little tired; and--Uncle John--"
+
+"Yes, dear child."
+
+"You must expect that I shall do a great many wrong things, at first. I
+am very ignorant, and--well, not very old, perhaps. If only I can make
+the children love me!"
+
+"They'd better love you," said Uncle John. "If they don't, they'll get
+the stick. But don't fret, Margaret; I am not going to fret, and I shall
+not let you do it. The little girl seems slightly abnormal, at first
+sight; but the boys--"
+
+"Yes, Uncle John?" and Margaret raised her head and looked eagerly at
+her uncle, hoping for some light that would make all clear to her. "The
+boys?"
+
+"Why, the boys are just boys, my dear; nothing in the world but plain
+boys. Two of 'em instead of four,--thank your stars that you are in
+this generation instead of the last, my love; and now take this little
+head off to bed, and don't let another anxious thought come into it.
+Good night, my child."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+A NEWCOMER.
+
+
+"If you please, Miss Margaret, the lady would like to speak to you, in
+her room."
+
+"Miss Montfort?" (Elizabeth never would call Miss Sophronia Miss
+Montfort.) "Yes, Elizabeth, I will be up in a moment; tell her, please."
+
+Hastily pinning her collar,--it was near breakfast-time, and she had
+been longer than usual in dressing,--Margaret ran up to the Blue Room.
+Miss Sophronia, in curl-papers and a long, yellow wrapper, was standing
+near the window, apparently rigid with horror.
+
+"What is it, Cousin Sophronia? What can I do for you?"
+
+"Margaret, I told you,--I warned you. I warned John Montfort. No one can
+say that I neglected my duty in this respect; my conscience is clear.
+Now look,--I desire you, look out of that window, and tell me what you
+think."
+
+Margaret looked. At first she saw nothing but the clear glass, and,
+beyond it, the blue sky and waving trees. But, looking again, she became
+aware of two objects dangling over the upper part of the pane; a black
+object, and a white object; two small legs, one bare, the other in
+stocking and shoe. The legs were swinging back and forth, keeping time
+to a clear and lively whistle, and now and then one of them gave a
+little kick, as of pure content.
+
+"Do you see?" demanded Miss Sophronia, in tragic tone.
+
+"Yes, Cousin Sophronia, I see. I can't think--but I'll run up at once
+and see what it means, and bring the child down. I--" Margaret waited to
+say no more, but flew up-stairs, only pausing to cast a hasty glance
+into Susan D.'s room, the door of which stood open. The room was empty;
+so, when she reached the top of the stairs, was the nursery. She entered
+a small room that was used as a storeroom; its one window looked
+directly on the roof, and this window stood wide open. Running to look
+out, Margaret saw Susan D., seated astride of a gable, dangling her legs
+as aforesaid, and apparently enjoying herself immensely. The whistle
+stopped when she saw her cousin, and the cheerful look gave place to one
+of sullenness.
+
+"Susan, my dear child, what are you doing here?"
+
+"Looking for my other stocking," replied the child.
+
+"Your stocking?"
+
+"Yes. I dropped it out of the window, and I came up here to look for
+it."
+
+"She thought she could see better!" explained Basil, appearing suddenly
+from behind the chimney. "I--good morning, Cousin Margaret. I slept very
+well, thank you."
+
+"So did I!" chimed in Susan D., with suspicious readiness. "I slept very
+well. Good morning, Cousin Margaret, thank you!"
+
+"That isn't right," said Basil, as Margaret looked in bewilderment from
+one to the other; "you are such a stupid, Susan D. You see," he added,
+turning to Margaret, "I've been telling her that she's got to have
+better manners, and speak when she's spoken to; and, if she behaves
+pretty well, she's going to get some hard stamps she wants; and if she
+doesn't--"
+
+"I am," said Susan D. "Amn't I, Cousin Margaret?"
+
+It was the first time the child had addressed Margaret directly, and the
+latter hastened to assure her that her morning greeting would do very
+well indeed. "But, dear children," she cried, "I cannot let you stay
+here. Indeed, you ought never to have come up; I don't believe Uncle
+John would like to have you on the roof at all; and it is
+breakfast-time, and Cousin Sophronia has been a good deal frightened,
+Susie, at seeing your legs dangling over her window in this fashion."
+
+"We aren't hurting the old roof!" cried boy and girl, in eager
+self-defence.
+
+"Oh, my dears! It isn't the roof, it's your precious necks, that you
+might be breaking at this moment. How are you going to get back? Basil,
+it makes me dizzy to look at you."
+
+"Then I wouldn't look," said Basil, cheerfully. "I'm all right, Cousin
+Margaret, just truly I am. Why, I just live on roofs, every chance I
+get. And this is a bully roof to climb on."
+
+Margaret covered her eyes with her hands, as the boy came tripping along
+the ridge-pole towards her; but the next moment she put the hands down
+resolutely. "Let me help you!" she said. "Susan, take my hand, dear, and
+let me help you in."
+
+But Susan D. needed no helping hand; she scrambled up the slope of the
+roof like a squirrel, and wriggled in at the window before Margaret
+could lay hands on her. "I'm all right!" she said, shyly. "I didn't find
+my stocking, though. I'll get another pair." But Margaret soon found the
+stocking, and in due time could report to Cousin Sophronia that the
+children were both safe on the ground, and more or less ready for
+breakfast. Merton had not shared in the roof expedition; he had climbed
+the great chestnut-tree instead, and appeared at breakfast with most of
+the buttons off his jacket, and a large barn-door tear in his
+knickerbockers.
+
+Miss Sophronia greeted the children with firmness. "How do you do, my
+dears?" she said. "I am your Cousin Sophronia, and I shall take the
+place of a mamma to you while you are here. If you do as I tell you, we
+shall get on very well, I dare say. You are Basil? Yes, you look like
+your Uncle Reuben. You remember Reuben, John? What a troublesome boy he
+was, to be sure! And this is Merton. H'm! Yes! The image of his father.
+Anthony; to be sure! And what is your name, child? Susan D.? Ah, yes!
+For your Aunt Susan, of course. And are you a good girl, Susan D.?"
+
+Susan D. hung her head, and looked defiant.
+
+"Always answer when you are spoken to," said the lady, with mild
+severity. "I'm afraid your father has let you run wild; but we will
+alter all that. Little boy--Merton, I mean, you are taking too much
+sugar on your porridge. Too much sugar is very bad for children. Hand me
+the bowl, if you please. I am obliged to take a good deal of sugar--the
+doctor's orders! There are one--two--three buttons off your jacket. This
+will never do!"
+
+"I scraped 'em off, shinning up the tree," said Merton, sadly. "I barked
+all my shins, too; but I found the squirrel's nest."
+
+"Oh, Merton, you didn't meddle with it?" cried Margaret. "That little
+squirrel is so tame, I should be very sorry to have him teased. You
+didn't tease him, did you, dear?"
+
+Merton looked injured. "I just put my hand into his old hole, and he bit
+me, nasty thing! I'll kill him, first chance I get."
+
+"You will do nothing of the kind," said Mr. Montfort, quietly. "You will
+let the squirrel alone, Merton, or I shall have to stop the climbing
+altogether. You understand?"
+
+"Yes, sir," said Merton. "Ow! you stop that, now!"
+
+"Did you speak to me, sir?" inquired Mr. Montfort, politely.
+
+"Well, he kicked my sore shin," growled Merton, glaring savagely at
+Basil. Basil chuckled gleefully. Mr. Montfort looked from one to the
+other.
+
+"Kick each other as much as you like out-of-doors," he said. "Here, you
+can either behave yourselves or leave the table. Take your choice." He
+spoke very quietly, and went on with his letter, without another glance
+at the boys; indeed, no second glance was needed, for the children
+behaved remarkably well through the rest of breakfast.
+
+That morning was a trying time for Margaret. She tried hard to remember
+her uncle's parting words, as he drove away: "Let them run, these first
+few days, and don't worry; above all, don't worry!"
+
+[Illustration: "MERTON WAS TEASING CHIQUITO."]
+
+Yes, but how could she help worrying? If it had been only running! But
+these children never seemed content to stay on their feet for ten
+minutes together. Now they were turning somersaults round and round the
+grass-plot, till her head grew dizzy, and Cousin Sophronia screamed
+from the window that they would all be dead of apoplexy in less than ten
+minutes. Now they were hanging by their heels from the lower branches of
+the horse-chestnut tree, daring each other to turn a somersault in the
+air and so descend. Now Merton was teasing Chiquito, and getting his
+finger bitten, and howling, while Basil jeered at him, and wanted to
+know whether a sixty-year-old bird was likely to stand "sauce" from a
+ten-year-old monkey. Now Susan D. had caught her frock on a bramble, and
+torn a long, jagged rent across the front breadth, that filled Margaret
+with despair. Poor Susan D.! By afternoon, Miss Sophronia had taken her
+into custody, and marched her off to her own room, to stay there till
+bedtime.
+
+"The child was rebellious, my dear Margaret; positively disrespectful. A
+little discipline, my love, is what that child needs. It is my duty to
+give it to her, and I shall do my duty cheerfully. At your age, it is
+not to be expected that you should know anything about children. Leave
+all to me, and you will be surprised at the result. A firm rein for a
+few weeks,--I shall manage her, never fear!"
+
+Margaret was humble-minded, and fully conscious of her total lack of
+experience; still, she could not feel that a system of repression was
+the one most likely to succeed with Susan D.
+
+"If we could win the child's affection," she began, timidly. Miss
+Sophronia pounced upon her.
+
+"My love, you naturally think so! Believe me, I know what I am talking
+about. I have practically brought up William's children; the result is
+astonishing, everybody says so." (Everybody did, but their astonishment
+was hardly what the good lady fancied it.) "Trust,--dearest Margaret,
+simply confide absolutely in me! So important, I always say, for the
+young to have entire confidence in their elders."
+
+Margaret was thankful when dinner was over, and her cousin gone to take
+her afternoon nap. Basil was in a lowering mood, the result of his
+sister's imprisonment. He would do nothing but rage against Cousin
+Sophronia, so Margaret was finally obliged to send him away, and sit
+down with a sigh to her work, alone.
+
+It was very pleasant and peaceful on the verandah. The garden was hot
+and sunny at this hour, but here the shade lay cool and grateful, and
+Margaret felt the silence like balm on her fretted spirit. It was all
+wrong that she should be so fretted; she argued with herself, scolded,
+tried to bring herself to a better frame of mind; but nature was too
+strong for her, and the best she could do was to resolve that she would
+try, and keep on trying, her very best; and that Uncle John should not
+know how worried she was. That, surely, she could manage: to keep a
+smiling face when he was at home, and to made light of all these hourly
+pin-pricks that seemed to her sensitive nature like sword-thrusts.
+
+So quiet! Only the sound of the soft wind in the great chestnut-trees,
+and the clear notes of a bird in the upper branches. A rose-breasted
+grosbeak! Her uncle had been teaching her something about birds, and she
+knew this beautiful creature, and loved to watch him as he hovered
+about the nest where his good wife sat. His song was almost like the
+oriole's, Margaret thought. She laid down her embroidery, and watched
+the flashes of crimson appear and disappear. What a wonderful, beautiful
+thing! How good to live in the green country, where lovely sights and
+sounds were one's own, all day long. Why should one let oneself be
+distressed, even if things did not go just to one's mind?
+
+A soft cloud seemed to be stealing over her spirit; it was not sleep,
+but just a waking dream, of peace and beauty, and the love of all lovely
+things in the green and blossoming world, where life floated by to the
+music of birds,--
+
+"I beg your pardon, Miss Margaret; were you asleep, miss?"
+
+Margaret sat upright, and looked a little severe. It would never do even
+to look as if she had been asleep, in the middle of the afternoon. "No,
+Elizabeth," she said. "What is wanted?"
+
+"Only miss, Frances was wishful to know whether she should keep Master
+Merton's dinner any longer, or whether she'd cook something fresh for
+him along with his supper."
+
+No more dreaming for Margaret! She sprang to her feet, suddenly
+conscious of the fact that Merton had not been seen for several hours.
+It could not have been more than eleven o'clock when he was in her room;
+now-- "What time is it, Elizabeth?"
+
+"Going on five, Miss Margaret. Mr. Montfort'll soon be here, miss; maybe
+Master Merton might have gone to meet him."
+
+Margaret shook her head; that did not seem at all likely. She hailed
+Basil, who came sauntering up the gravel walk, his brow still clouded,
+kicking the pebbles before him.
+
+"Oh, Basil, have you seen Merton? He has not been in the house since
+this morning, and I am anxious about him."
+
+Basil shrugged his shoulders. "Run away, most likely!" he said,
+carelessly. "He's always running away, Mert is."
+
+"Always running away! But where could he run to, Basil? He does not know
+his way about here. He surely would not run away in a strange place."
+
+Basil smiled superior. "That's just why he'd do it. He likes to find out
+new places; we both do. I wouldn't leave Susan D., or I'd have gone,
+too, bet I would. No use staying here, to be bossed round."
+
+"Oh, Basil, don't talk so, but help me, like a dear boy, to find
+Merton."
+
+Basil stood uncertain. He raised a threatening glance towards Miss
+Sophronia's window; but Margaret was beside him in a moment. "Basil, to
+please me!" she said. She laid her hand on the boy's shoulder. He stood
+still, and Margaret had a moment of painful doubt; but the next instant
+he raised his face to her with his own enchanting smile. "All right!" he
+said. "You are all right, Cousin Margaret, whatever other folks are, and
+I'll help you every single bit I can."
+
+"That's my good, helpful boy!" said Margaret, heartily. "Oh, Basil, you
+and I together can do a great deal, but alone I feel rather helpless.
+You shall be my little--no, not little--you shall be my brother, and
+tell me how to manage Merton and Susan, and make them love me. But the
+first thing is to find Merton. What can have become of the child? Where
+shall we look for him?"
+
+"I think perhaps down by the bog," said Basil, looking very important
+and pleased with his new responsibility. "He said he was going down
+there, first chance he got. I meant to go, too, but I won't if you don't
+want me to, Cousin Margaret. There's a bully--"
+
+"Basil!"
+
+"There's a--a superb workman down there; do you know him, Cousin
+Margaret? I guess he's the boss, or something. He wears blue overalls
+and a blue jumper, and he can vault--oh my! how that fellow can vault!"
+
+"Basil, I don't feel at all sure that your uncle would wish you to be
+talking with strange workmen. At any rate, I think you ought to ask
+leave, don't you?"
+
+"Maybe I ought!" said Basil, cheerfully. "But it's too late now, you
+see, 'cause I have talked to him, quite lots, and he's awfully jolly.
+Oh, Jonah! I do believe there he is now; and--Cousin Margaret! I do
+believe he's got Mert with him! Look!"
+
+Margaret looked. A man was coming across the field that lay beyond the
+garden wall; a workingman, from his blue overalls and jumper; a young
+man, from the way he moved, and from his light, springy step. Margaret
+could not see his face, but his hair was red; she could see that over
+the burden that he carried in his arms.
+
+Coming nearer, this burden was seen to be a child. A chimney-sweeper?
+No, for chimney-sweepers are not necessarily wet; do not drip black mud
+from head to foot; do not run streams of black bog water.
+
+"Merton!" cried poor Margaret, who knew well the look of that mud and
+water. "Oh, what has happened? Is--is he hurt?" she cried out, running
+towards the wall.
+
+The young workman raised a cheerful face, streaked with black, and
+presenting the appearance of a light-hearted savage in trim for a
+funeral.
+
+"Not a bit hurt!" he called in return. "All right, only wet, and a
+trifle muddy. Little chap's had a bath, that's all. Hope you haven't
+been anxious about him."
+
+"Oh, yes, I have been anxious--thank you! You are sure--he has not been
+in danger?"
+
+"Well," the stranger admitted, "just as well I was there, perhaps. It
+isn't a safe place for children, you see. How are you now, old chap? He
+was a bit dizzy when I picked him up, you see."
+
+Merton lifted his black head, and looked ruefully at Margaret.
+
+"You told me not to go!" he said. "I won't go again."
+
+"Well, I guess you won't!" cried Basil, excitedly. "Why, you've been in
+all over; it's all up to your chin, and some of it's on the back of your
+head. I say, you must--"
+
+The young man made him a sign quickly. "He's all right!" he said. "Mud
+baths extremely hygienic; recommended by the medical fraternity;
+a--where did you say I should put him?"
+
+"Oh, I beg your pardon!" cried Margaret. "I am letting you hold him all
+this time, and you are getting all wet, too."
+
+"No consequence, not the least in the world. Besides,--past participle
+perhaps more appropriate than present."
+
+Margaret led the way to the verandah, and the stranger finally deposited
+his burden on the steps. Looking down at himself, he seemed for the
+first time aware of his singular appearance, for he blushed, and,
+lifting his cap, was turning away with a muttered apology, in which the
+word "clothes" was the only word Margaret could hear.
+
+"Oh!" she cried, "you are not going yet! I--I have not thanked you! You
+have saved the child's life, I know you have. I--I have seen something
+of that bog," she shuddered. "Mr. Montfort will want to see you, and
+thank you himself. Do at least tell me your name, so that we may know
+who it is that has done us this great service."
+
+But here the young man caught sight of his face, reflected in a
+window-pane, and lost the last vestige of self-possession. "If--if
+you'll excuse me," he cried, "I think I'll go before Mr. Montfort comes.
+The costume of a Mohawk on the war-path--effective, but unusual;
+a--call to-morrow if I may, to see if the little chap is all right. Mr.
+Montfort kindly asked me--good day!"
+
+"But you haven't told her your name!" Basil shouted after him.
+
+"Oh! Of course!--a--Merryweather! Gerald Merryweather."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+"I MUST HELP MYSELF."
+
+
+        "DEAR MARGARET:
+
+        "I find a telegram here which obliges me to run
+        on to Philadelphia at once. I may be away all
+        the week; do as well as you can, dear child,
+        and don't let B., M., and S. D. tear you to
+        pieces. I forgot to tell you that the young man
+        in charge of the bog-draining turns out to be
+        the son of an old friend of mine, Miles
+        Merryweather. I asked him to come up to the
+        house; if he should come while I am away, you
+        will be good to him. I will let you know by
+        telegraph when to expect me.
+
+                "Always affectionately yours,
+                                    "JOHN MONTFORT."
+
+Margaret read this brief letter with a sinking heart. How was she to
+keep up without Uncle John? How was she to cope with all the
+difficulties that beset her path like sharp-thorned briers? If she had
+but Aunt Faith--if she had but some one to turn to! She had tried to
+take counsel with Mrs. Peyton, but the beautiful woman was still, at
+fifty, a spoiled child, far younger in many ways than Margaret herself;
+she would only laugh, and advise her to get rid of Miss Sophronia by
+some trick, or practical joke.
+
+"Freeze her out, my dear! Get rid of her, somehow! That is all the
+advice I can give you. And bring the young barbarians to see me; I am
+sure they will amuse me."
+
+Margaret had just been acting on this last request. She had taken the
+two boys to see the invalid, and had left them there now, coming away
+with a sore and angry heart. Mrs. Peyton had been drawing the children
+out, laughing at their remarks about their cousin, and paying no regard
+to Margaret's entreaties. At length Margaret had simply come away, with
+no more than a brief "Good afternoon!" feeling that she could not trust
+herself to say more. Emily Peyton only laughed; she had full confidence
+in her charm, and thought she could bring back her puritanical little
+friend whenever she chose to smile in a particular way; meanwhile, the
+children were a new toy, and amused her.
+
+But Margaret felt that she had had almost enough of Mrs. Peyton. Beauty
+was a great deal, charm and grace were a great deal more; but they did
+not take the place of heart. No, there was no one to help her! Well,
+then she must help herself, that was all!
+
+She stood still, her mind full of this new thought. She was eighteen
+years old; she was well and strong, and possessed of average
+intelligence. "Look here!" she said suddenly, aloud. "If you cannot
+manage those children, why, I am ashamed of you. Do you hear?"
+
+The other self, the timid one, did hear, and took heart. The girl felt
+new strength coming to her. The world had changed, somehow; the
+giants,--were they only windmills, after all? Up, lance, and at them!
+
+In this changed mood she went on, humming a little song to herself. As
+she drew near the wood that skirted the bog, the song was answered by
+another, trolled in a cheerful bass voice:
+
+        "The lady was pleased for to see him so bold;
+         She gave him her glove that was flowered with gold;
+         She said she had found it while walking around,
+         As she was a-hunting with her dog and her gun."
+
+The "blue boy," as she mentally called him, came dancing out of the
+wood, throwing up his cap, and singing as he came. At sight of Margaret
+he paused, in some confusion, cap in hand.
+
+"I--I beg your pardon," he said. "I trust I did not disturb you with my
+carol? There isn't generally any one here, you know; I get rather to
+feel as if it all belonged to me. I hope the little chap is all right
+to-day, Miss--Is it Miss Montfort?"
+
+"Oh, yes! Certainly!" said Margaret, blushing in her turn. "I ought to
+have said, of course--yes, thank you, Mr. Merryweather, Merton is quite
+well to-day; and I really think he has had a lesson, for he has not run
+away since, and it is two or three days ago. I--my uncle has been
+suddenly called away on business, but he asked me to say--that is, we
+shall be very glad to see you at the house any day; Miss Montfort, his
+cousin,--my uncle's cousin,--is there with me and the children."
+
+"Thanks awfully," murmured Gerald. "I'd like to come ever so much, some
+day; but I keep all in a mess so--" he glanced down ruefully at his blue
+clothes, and finding them quite respectably clean, brightened visibly.
+"My father was at school with Mr. Montfort; Miles Merryweather, perhaps
+he told you, Miss Montfort?"
+
+"Yes, he told me. I--I always think Uncle John must have been such a
+delightful boy. I am sure they must have had good times together."
+
+"So was the Pater, no end; I mean, my father was an agreeable youth
+also." Gerald stopped short, and glanced sidelong at the young girl. He
+was well used to girls, having sisters and cousins; but they were used
+to him, too, and he somehow felt that this sweet, serious-looking maiden
+was not accustomed to young men, and that he must, as he silently put it
+to himself, "consider the prudent P, and the quaintly quiggling Q."
+
+"And Uncle John must have been a brilliant scholar!" Margaret went on,
+warming to her subject. She had never, as it happened, walked and talked
+with a lad before in her quiet life; she did not know quite how to do
+it, but so long as she talked about Uncle John, she could not go wrong.
+"He knows so much,--so much that he must have learned early, because it
+is so a part of him. Wasn't he head of his class most of the time? He
+never will talk about it, but I am sure he must have been."
+
+"I am not so sure about that," Gerald admitted; "I know he was the best
+wrestler, and that he and my father were generally neck and neck in all
+the running races. He was a better high kick, because his legs were
+longer, don't you know, but the Pater was ahead in boxing."
+
+Margaret was bewildered. Was this scholarship? Was this the record that
+brilliant boys left behind them? She gave a little sigh; the mention of
+long legs brought her back to Basil again. Dear Basil! he had only one
+pair of knickerbockers left that was fit to be seen. She ought to be
+mending the corduroys this moment, in case he should come home all in
+pieces, as he was apt to do.
+
+"Have you any little brothers, Mr. Merryweather?" she asked, following
+the thread of her thought.
+
+"One; Willy. That is, he's not so very little now, but he's a good bit
+younger than Phil and I; Phil is my twin. Willy--oh, I suppose he must
+be fourteen, or somewhere about there, to a field or two."
+
+"Basil is twelve," said Margaret, thoughtfully. "And does he--or did he,
+two years ago,--I suppose a boy develops very quickly,--did he want to
+be climbing and jumping and running _all_ the time?"
+
+"Let me see!" said Gerald, gravely. "Why--yes, I should say so, Miss
+Montfort. Of course he stops now and then to eat; and then there's the
+time that he's asleep, you know; you have to take out that. But
+otherwise,--yes, I should say you had described Willy's existence pretty
+well."
+
+"And climbing on roofs?" Margaret went on. "And tumbling into bogs, and
+turning somersaults? What _can_ be the pleasure of turning oneself
+wrong side up and getting the blood into one's head?"
+
+Margaret stopped suddenly, and the colour rushed into her face; no need
+of somersaults in her case. For had not this young man been turning
+somersaults the first time she saw him? And turning them in the same
+senseless way, just for the joy of it, apparently? She glanced at him,
+and he was blushing too; but he met her look of distress with one so
+comic in its quizzical appeal, that she laughed in spite of herself.
+
+"I love to turn somersaults!" he murmured. "'Twas the charm of my
+chirping childhood; it is now the solace of my age. Don't be severe,
+Miss Montfort. I turn them now, sometimes; I will not deceive you."
+
+"Oh! oh, yes, I know!" said Margaret, timidly, but still laughing in
+spite of herself. "I--I saw you the other day, Mr. Merryweather. I
+thought--you seemed to be enjoying yourself very much."
+
+"No! Did you, though?" cried Gerald. "I say! Where was it? I never meant
+to do it when people were round. I'm awfully sorry."
+
+"Oh, no!" said Margaret, confused. "Why shouldn't you? It--it was by the
+edge of the bog. I had come round that way, and you were leaping with a
+pole about the bog, and I--stayed to watch you. I hope you don't mind;"
+this foolish girl was blushing again furiously, which was most
+unnecessary; "and--I thought you must be a foreigner; I don't know why.
+And--and then you came out, and turned a somersault, and--I wondered
+why, that was all. You see, I never had a brother, and I have never
+known any boys in all my life till now. I don't mean that you are a boy,
+of course!"
+
+"Oh, but I _am_!" cried Gerald. "What else am I but a boy? I wish they
+could hear you at home. Why, I'm just Jerry, you know, and--and I've
+always been that kind of boy, I'm afraid; just like Willy, only a good
+deal worse. And now--well, I've been through college, and now I'm in the
+School of Mines, and I'm twenty-one, and all that, but I can't seem to
+make myself feel any older, don't you know. I don't know what's going to
+become of me. Hilda says I won't grow up till I fall--oh! you don't
+know Hilda, do you, Miss Montfort?"
+
+"Hilda?" repeated Margaret. "I only know Hilda in the 'Marble Faun.'"
+
+"Hildegarde Merryweather; Hildegarde Grahame she used to be. I thought
+you might possibly have--well, she's my aunt according to the flesh. I
+wish you did know her!"
+
+"Your aunt? Is she--is she about Uncle John's age? I know so few people,
+you see. I have lived a very quiet life."
+
+"Oh, no! She--well, I suppose she's a little older than you, but not
+very much. She married Roger, don't you know. He's my half-uncle all
+right, but he's ever so many years younger than the Pater, nearer our
+age, you might almost say; and Hildegarde and the girls, my sisters,--I
+say! I wish you knew them all, Miss Montfort."
+
+"I wish I did," said Margaret, simply. "There are no girls of my own age
+near here. Last year I had my cousins, and I miss them so much!"
+
+"Of course you must!" said sympathetic Gerald. "Girls are no end--I--I
+mean, I like them too, ever so much." He paused, and wished he knew the
+right thing to say. How pretty and sweet she was! Not like Hilda, of
+course (Hilda was this young man's ideal of what a girl should be), but
+with a little quiet way of her own that was very nice. She must have no
+end of a time of it with these youngsters! He spoke his thought aloud.
+They were nearing Fernley, and he must leave her soon. "You must be
+having some difficulty with those youngsters, Miss Montfort. If I could
+help you any time, I wish you'd let me know. There have always been such
+a lot of us at home, I'm used to most kinds of children, you see; and I
+should be ever so glad--"
+
+[Illustration: "'Won't you come in?'"]
+
+"Oh, thank you!" said Margaret, gratefully. "I am sure you are very
+kind; and if you would advise me sometimes--now that Uncle John is
+away--I should be most grateful. But--I ought to be able to manage them
+myself, it seems to me, without help. If I can only make them love me!"
+She looked straight at Gerald, and her dark gray eyes were very
+wistful in their unconscious appeal.
+
+"I'd like to see 'em not!" said the young man, straightway. "Little
+beggars! They couldn't help themselves!" He was about to add that he
+would thrash them handsomely if they did not love her, but pulled
+himself together, and blushed to his ears, and was only comforted by
+seeing out of the tail of his eye that the girl was wholly unconscious
+of his blushes. After all, there was some sense in freckles and sunburn.
+
+But here they were now at the gates of Fernley. "Won't you come in?"
+said Margaret. But Gerald, becoming once more conscious of his
+working-clothes, which he had entirely forgotten, excused himself. If he
+might come some evening soon? Yes, he might, and should. He lingered
+still a moment, and Margaret, after a moment's shyness, held out her
+hand frankly. "I am so glad to know you!" she said, simply. "Uncle
+John--Mr. Montfort said I was to be good to you, and I will try."
+
+"I'm sure you couldn't be anything else!" said Gerald, with fervour.
+"Thanks, awfully, Miss Montfort. Good-bye!" Lifting his cap, the young
+man turned away, feeling homesick, and yet cheerful. Passing round the
+corner of the house, and finding himself well out of sight of the young
+girl, he relieved his feelings by turning a handspring; and on coming to
+his feet again, encountered the awful gaze of two greenish eyes, bent
+upon him from an upper window of the house.
+
+"Now I've done it!" said the youth, brushing himself, and assuming all
+the dignity of which he was master. "Wonder who that is? Housekeeper,
+perhaps? Quite the Gorgon, whoever it is. Wish I didn't turn over so
+easily."
+
+Margaret went into the house singing, with a lighter heart than she had
+felt since Uncle John's letter came. Perhaps she had made a friend; at
+any rate, a pleasant acquaintance. What a frank, nice, gentlemanly--boy!
+"For he is a boy, just as he says!" she acknowledged to herself. And
+what kind, honest eyes he had; and how thoughtful to offer to help her
+with the children!
+
+Her pleasant meditations were harshly interrupted. Miss Sophronia came
+down-stairs, with her brown and yellow shawl drawn over her shoulders;
+this, Margaret had learned, was a bad sign.
+
+"Margaret, who was that young man? I saw you! There is no use in
+attempting to conceal anything from me, my dear. I saw you talking with
+a young man at the gate."
+
+"Why should I conceal it?" asked Margaret, wondering. "It was Mr.
+Merryweather, Cousin Sophronia. He was a schoolmate of Uncle John's,--I
+mean his father was."
+
+"Stuff and nonsense!" cried the lady, sharply. "Don't tell me anything
+of the kind, miss. He was a common workman, a day-labourer. I tell you I
+saw him! Do you suppose I have no eyes in my head? I shall consider it
+my duty to tell your uncle as soon as he comes home. I am surprised at
+you, Margaret. I thought at least you were discreet. William's daughters
+would no more think of talking with such a person--but that comes of
+leaving a young person alone here with servants. My dear, I shall make
+it a point henceforward--"
+
+She stopped; for the gentle Margaret turned upon her with eyes of fire.
+"Cousin Sophronia, I cannot listen to this; I will not listen! I am a
+gentlewoman, and must be spoken to as a gentlewoman. I am eighteen years
+old, and am accountable to no one except Uncle John for my behaviour.
+Let me pass, please! I want to go to my room."
+
+The girl swept by, her head high, her cheeks burning with righteous
+wrath. Miss Sophronia gazed after her speechless; it was as if a dove
+had ruffled its wings and flown in her face. "Ungrateful girl!" said the
+lady to herself. "I never meet with anything but ingratitude wherever I
+go. She is as bad as those girls of William's, for all her soft looks.
+The human heart is very, very depraved. But I shall do my duty, in spite
+of everything."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+THE SECOND CONQUEST.
+
+
+The boys came home late for tea that night, bubbling over with joy.
+Basil declared that they did not want any supper. "Mrs. Peyton gave us
+some of her supper. I say, Cousin Margaret, isn't she bully?"
+
+"Basil, if you _could_ find another adjective now and then! I cannot
+imagine anything less appropriate to Mrs. Peyton than--the one you
+used."
+
+"Oh, well, it doesn't matter! She _is_ bully! She had broiled chicken, a
+whole one, and she just took a little piece off the breast for herself,
+and then she told Mert and me each to take a leg and run. And we did!
+And Mert sat down in the china bath-tub with his, and smashed
+it,--cracked it, at least,--and she said she didn't care."
+
+"And the table-drawer was full of chocolate peppermints," chimed in
+Merton, "and we ate so many, I don't feel very well now, I think,
+p'r'aps."
+
+"And she told us lots of things!" cried Basil again; he looked towards
+Miss Sophronia, with sparkling eyes. "She told us about when she was a
+little girl, and used to stay here, when Uncle John's puppa and mumma
+were alive. I say! And you were here, too, she said, Cousin Sophronia.
+And she said--lots of things!" The boy stopped suddenly, and gave his
+brother a look of intelligence.
+
+"Ho!" said Merton, "I know what you mean,--you mean about the ghost,
+that scared--I say! You stop pinching, will you? I'll punch your--"
+
+"Merton!" said Margaret, warningly.
+
+"Well, he was pinching me!" whined Merton. "And it did scare you, didn't
+it, Cousin Sophronia?"
+
+Miss Sophronia looked disturbed. "Merton, you should speak when you are
+spoken to!" she said, severely. "I am surprised that Mrs. Peyton should
+have told you such things. There certainly were some very strange
+occurrences at Fernley, Margaret, when I was a young girl. They never
+were explained to my satisfaction; indeed, I never heard of their being
+explained at all. Little boys, if you do not want any supper, you may as
+well run away. I do not approve of their going to see Emily Peyton,
+Margaret. I shall make a point of their not doing so in future. She was
+always malicious."
+
+She seemed much fluttered, and Margaret, wondering, hastened to change
+the subject. "I wonder where Susan D. can be. I have not seen the child
+since I came in, and she did not answer when I called her. Elizabeth, do
+you--"
+
+"Pardon me, Margaret, my love!" Miss Sophronia interposed. "Susan D. is
+in bed; I sent her to bed an hour ago."
+
+"Oh, Cousin Sophronia! Without her supper? What had she done?"
+
+"She was disobedient, my dear,--disobedient and impertinent. I have no
+doubt that this will have an excellent effect upon the child. Basil,
+what do you want? I told you to go away."
+
+"Cousin Margaret, could I speak to you a moment, please?" asked the boy.
+
+"I will come to you, Basil," said Margaret, quickly. "Will you excuse
+me, Cousin Sophronia, please? I have quite finished. Now, Basil, what is
+it?"
+
+She led the boy carefully out of earshot, for thunder and lightning were
+in his face, and she foresaw an outburst.
+
+"Susan D. is in bed!" cried Basil. "She has had no supper at all;
+Elizabeth said so. That woman sent her. Cousin Margaret, I won't stand
+it. I--I'll set fire to her clothes! I'll shoot her! I'll--I'll kill her
+some way--"
+
+Margaret laid her hand over the boy's mouth. "You will be silent!" she
+said. "Not a word, not a syllable, till you can speak like a civilised
+being. We will have no savages here."
+
+Basil said no word,--he knew well enough when he must obey,--but he set
+his teeth, and clenched his fists; the veins on his temples swelled, his
+whole childish frame shook with anger. Margaret had never seen any one,
+not even Rita, in such a passion as this. For a few moments, the two
+stood motionless, facing each other. Then Margaret took the boy's hand
+in hers, and led him out into the garden. Still holding his hand, she
+paced up and down the green walk in silence, Basil following obediently.
+The evening was falling soft and dusk; the last bird was chirping
+sleepily; the air was full of the scent of flowers. Behind the dark
+trees, where the sun had gone down, the sky still glowed with soft,
+yellow light. "See!" said Margaret, presently. "There is the first star.
+Let us wish! Oh, Basil dear, let us wish--and pray--for a good thing,
+for strength to overcome--ourselves."
+
+The boy's hand pressed hers convulsively, but he did not speak at first.
+Presently he said, almost in a whisper, "She is so little,--and so thin!
+I told Mother I would take care of her. But--I said--I would try not to
+let go of myself, too."
+
+Very tenderly Margaret drew the child down beside her, on a rustic
+bench that stood under one of the great tulip-trees. In the quiet
+darkness, she felt his heart open to her even more than it had done yet.
+In the hour that followed, she learned the story of a wild, faithful
+nature, full of mischief, full of love. The passionate love for his
+mother, whom he remembered well; the faithful, scowling devotion to the
+little sister, whom no one should scold but himself, and whom he shook,
+and bullied, and protected with a sole eye to her good; all this, and
+much more, Margaret learned. The two sat hand in hand, and took counsel
+together. "Oh, it is so good to have some one to talk to," cried Basil.
+
+"Isn't it, dear?" said Margaret. "Now you know how I feel with Uncle
+John away; and--oh, Basil, before I had Uncle John,--when my father
+died,--oh, my dear! But you are going to be my brother now, Basil,--my
+dear, dear little brother, aren't you? And you will tell me how to make
+Susan D. love me. I think you do love me a little already, don't you,
+Basil?"
+
+For all answer, Basil threw his arms round her, and gave her such a hug
+as made her gasp for breath.
+
+"Dear boy," cried Margaret, "don't--kill me! Oh, Basil! I tried to hug
+Susan D. the other day, and I might as well have hugged the door! She
+won't even let me kiss her good night; that is, she lets me, but there
+is no response. Why doesn't she like me, do you think?"
+
+"She does!" said Basil. "Or she will, soon as she can get out of
+herself. Don't you know what I mean, Cousin Margaret? It's as if she had
+a dumb spirit, like that fellow in the Bible, don't you know? Nobody but
+me understands; but you will, just once you get inside."
+
+"Ah, but how shall I ever get inside?" said Margaret.
+
+Basil nodded confidently. "You will!" he said. "I know you will, some
+time. Oh, Cousin Margaret, mayn't I take her something to eat? She's
+always hungry, Susan D. is, and I know she won't sleep a mite if she
+doesn't have anything. I--no, I won't let go again, but it _is_ the
+meanest, hatefullest thing that ever was done in the world! Now isn't
+it, Cousin Margaret? Don't you think so yourself?"
+
+Sorely puzzled as to the exact path of duty, Margaret tried to explain
+to the boy how ideas of discipline had changed since Cousin Sophronia
+was a young girl; how, probably, she had herself been brought up with
+rigid severity, and, never having married, had kept all the old
+cast-iron ideas which were now superseded by wider and better knowledge
+and sympathy. As to this particular point, what should she say? Her
+whole kind nature revolted against the thought of the hungry child,
+alone, waking, perhaps weeping, with no one to comfort her; yet how
+could she, Margaret, possibly interfere with the doings of one old
+enough to be her mother?
+
+Pondering in anxious perplexity, she chanced to raise her eyes to the
+house. It was brightly lighted, and, as it happened, the curtains had
+not been drawn. "Look!" said Margaret, pressing the boy's hand in hers.
+"Basil, look!"
+
+One long, narrow window looked directly upon the back stairs, which led
+from the servants' hall to the upper floor. Up these stairs, past the
+window, a figure was now seen to pass, swiftly and stealthily; a portly
+figure, carrying something that looked like a heaped up plate; the
+figure of Frances the cook. It passed, and in a moment more they saw
+light, as of an opening door, flash into the dark window of the corner
+room where the little girl slept.
+
+"Do you know, Basil," said Margaret, "I wouldn't worry any more about
+Susan D.'s being hungry. There is one person in Fernley whom no one, not
+even Uncle John, can manage; that is Frances."
+
+An hour or so later, Margaret was coming down from the nursery. Merton
+had announced, as bedtime drew near, that he "felt a pain;" and Margaret
+had no difficulty in tracing it to Mrs. Peyton's careless indulgence.
+She stole down quietly to the cheerful back room where Frances and
+Elizabeth sat with their sewing, and begged for some simple remedy.
+Frances rose with alacrity. "Checkerberry cordial is what you want,
+Miss Margaret," she said. "I've made it for thirty years, and I hope I
+know its merits. No wonder the child is sick. If some had their way,
+everybody in this house 'ud be sick to starvation."
+
+"I am afraid it was the other thing in this case, Frances," said
+Margaret, meekly. "I'm afraid Master Merton ate too many rich things at
+Mrs. Peyton's." Now in general, Frances could not abide patiently the
+mention of Mrs. Peyton; but this time she declared she was glad the
+child had had enough to eat for once. "'Twill do him no harm!" she said,
+stoutly. "Give him ten drops of this, Miss Margaret, in a wine-glass of
+hot water,--wait a minute, dear, and I'll mix it myself,--and he'll turn
+over and go to sleep like a lamb. Treating children as if they was one
+half starch and t'other half sticks! Don't tell me!"
+
+Knowing that none of this wrath was directed against herself, Margaret
+wisely held her tongue, and departed with her glass, leaving Frances
+still muttering, and Elizabeth with lips pursed up in judicious silence.
+And Merton took it and felt better, and was glad enough to be petted a
+little, and finally to be tucked up with the hot water-bottle for a
+comforter.
+
+As has been said, Margaret was coming down-stairs after this mission was
+fulfilled, when she met Miss Sophronia coming up. "All quiet up-stairs,
+my dear?" said the lady. "I am going to bed myself, Margaret, for I feel
+a little rheumatic, or I should rather say neuralgic, perhaps. These
+things are very obscure; the doctor says my case is a very remarkable
+one; he has never seen another like it. Yes, and now I am going to make
+sure that this child is all right, and that she does not actually need
+anything. Duty, Margaret, is a thing I can never neglect."
+
+Margaret followed her cousin into the room, feeling rather
+self-reproachful. Perhaps she had been unjust in her judgment. Cousin
+Sophronia was of course doing the best, or what she thought the best,
+for this poor wild little girl.
+
+Miss Sophronia advanced towards the bed, holding up her candle.
+Margaret, looking over her shoulder, saw the child lying fast asleep,
+her hand under her cheek. Her face was flushed, and her fair hair lay in
+a tangle on the pillow. Margaret had never seen her look so nearly
+pretty. There were traces of tears on her face, too, and she sobbed a
+little, softly, in her sleep.
+
+"Poor little thing!" whispered Margaret; but Miss Sophronia was not
+looking at Susan D. now. With stiff, outstretched finger she pointed to
+the floor. "Look at that!" she said, in a penetrating whisper. Indeed,
+the child had dropped her clothes on the floor all at once, and they lay
+in an untidy heap, shocking to Margaret's eyes, which loved to see
+things neatly laid. She shook her head and was about to murmur some
+extenuation of the offence, when--Miss Sophronia set down the candle on
+the stand; then, with a quick, decided motion, she pulled the sleeping
+child out of bed. "Susan D.," she said, "pick up your clothes at once.
+Never let me find them in this condition again. Shocking!"
+
+The child stood helpless, bewildered, blinking, half awake, at the
+light, not in the least understanding what was said to her. Miss
+Sophronia took her by the shoulder, not unkindly, and repeated her
+command. "Pick them up at once, my dear! Let this be a lesson to you,
+never to leave your clothes on the floor again." Still only half
+comprehending, the child stooped, stumbling as she did so, and picking
+up the clothes, laid them on the chair as she was directed.
+
+"There!" said Miss Sophronia, in high satisfaction. "Now, my dearest
+Margaret, you will see that this child will never neglect her clothes
+again. A lesson promptly administered, on the spot, is worth all the
+preaching in the world. Get into bed again, Susan D., and go to sleep
+like a good child. Some day you will be very grateful to your Cousin
+Sophronia for teaching you these things."
+
+She turned away with the candle. Margaret, standing in the shadow, saw
+the child still standing in the middle of the room, a forlorn, shivering
+little figure, silent; the most piteous sight those tender eyes had ever
+looked upon. Softly the girl closed the door. "Margaret," she heard her
+cousin say. "Oh, she is gone down-stairs!" and the steps went away
+along the entry. But Margaret groped her way to where Susan D. stood;
+the next moment she had the child in her arms, and was pressing her
+close, close. A rocking-chair was by; she had seen it, and knew where to
+lay her hand to draw it forward. She sank down in it, and rocked to and
+fro, murmuring inarticulate words of comfort. The night was warm, but
+still the child shivered; Margaret, groping again, found a shawl, and
+wrapped it round her. There was no more holding off, no more resistance;
+the little creature clung around Margaret's neck with a desperate hold,
+as if she dared not let her go for an instant. Her breast heaved once or
+twice, silently; then she burst into a passion of tears, and sobbed on
+her cousin's heart. "I love you!" cried the child. "You are good, and I
+love you! Don't--don't leave me alone, please don't!"
+
+Margaret held her close in her warm, loving arms. "My lamb!" she said.
+"My little girl! Indeed I will not leave you. Quiet now, dearie; quiet
+and don't cry! Oh, Susan D., I have no mother, either, dear; let us
+love each other a great, great deal!" and Susan D. sobbed, and curled
+closer yet, as if she would wind herself into the very heart that beat
+so kindly and so tenderly.
+
+So they sat, till the sobs died away into soft, broken breathings.
+Margaret began to sing, and crooned one after another the old songs that
+Katy used to sing to her when she was rocked just so on that broad,
+faithful Irish breast. Susan D. lifted her head a little towards her
+ear. "What is it?" said Margaret, bending down.
+
+"I--I do like singing!" whispered the child.
+
+Margaret nodded, and sang on. By and by the almost frantic clasp of the
+small arms loosened; the head sank back gently on her arm; the child was
+asleep. Margaret rose to lay her down, but instantly she started up
+again, affrighted, and cried out, and begged not to be left alone. What
+was to be done? Margaret hesitated; then she bade the child hold fast,
+and slowly, carefully she made her way down the stairs and through the
+passage to her own room, and did not pause till the little child was
+lying safe, happy, and wondering, in the white bed, in the wonderful
+White Room.
+
+"Crowd me?" said Cousin Margaret. "Not a bit of it! There is plenty of
+room, and in the morning we will have a most lovely cuddle, and tell
+stories. But now go to sleep this very minute, Susan D., while I do my
+hair. Good night, little sister!"
+
+"Good night!" said Susan D. "I love you! Good night!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE VOICE OF FERNLEY.
+
+
+From that night, Susan D. was Margaret's friend and true lover.
+
+She followed her round in the hope of being able to do some little
+service of love. She brought her flowers, and hunted the fields for the
+largest and finest berries for her. At any hour of the day, Margaret
+might feel a little hot hand slide into hers and deposit a handful of
+warm, moist raspberries or blueberries. Sometimes this bred trouble, as
+when Merton waylaid his sister, and wrested the hard-won treasures from
+her for his own refreshment; with the result of shrieks and scuffling,
+and a final thrashing from his elder brother; or, as when Cousin
+Sophronia detected the child sidling along with closed palm, and
+demanded to see what she had. Susan D. resisted stoutly, till at
+length, yielding to superior strength, she threw the berries on the
+floor, and trampled them into the carpet. There was a good deal of this
+kind of thing; but still the change was a blessed one, and Margaret,
+when she met the beaming look of love in the child's face, and
+remembered the suspicious scowl that had greeted her only so few days
+ago, was most thankful, and felt it to be worth any amount of trouble,
+even to taking the spots out of the carpet, which was a hard thing to
+do.
+
+"I told you!" said Basil, smiling superior. "I told you, once you got
+inside, you'd find the kid not at all so bad. I say, Cousin Margaret,
+you're not a fraidcat, are you?"
+
+"A what, Basil?"
+
+"A fraidcat! Don't you know what a fraidcat is, Cousin Margaret? Seems
+to me you didn't learn many modern expressions when you were a little
+girl, did you?"
+
+"Really, Basil, I think I learned all that were necessary," said
+Margaret, laughing. "I did not learn slang, certainly, nor boy-jargon,
+and I don't care to take lessons, thank you. Don't you think good,
+plain English is good enough?"
+
+"Oh, well, it sounds all right from you, 'cause you are you, and you
+wouldn't match yourself if you didn't talk that way, I suppose. But it
+would sound silly for a boy to go on so, don't you see?"
+
+"I am afraid I don't see very well, Basil, but no matter. The things I
+am afraid of are spiders and caterpillars and cows! Is that what you
+wanted to know?"
+
+"N--not exactly!" said the boy; "but no matter, Cousin Margaret. You
+haven't got a ball of twine, have you? Oh, yes, please! Thank you, that
+is just exactly what I wanted. You always know where things are, don't
+you? That's bully!"
+
+The children had been very good for the last few days; singularly good,
+Margaret thought, as she sat on the verandah in the pleasant twilight,
+reviewing the day's doings, and wondering what happy day would bring
+Uncle John back to her. Certainly, he would find a good deal of
+improvement. Merton had not run away since his experience in the bog;
+Susan D. was won, and Basil grew more and more helpful and considerate.
+More than that, the children, all three of them, seemed to have quieted
+down of their own accord. At this hour, they were generally shouting and
+screaming, racing over the grass, or tumbling headlong from the trees,
+keeping Margaret in a constant state of terror, and Cousin Sophronia in
+one of peevish irritation and alarm. But now they had gone of their own
+will to the summer-house, saying that they were going to tell stories,
+and see how quiet they could be. They were quiet, indeed, for she could
+not even hear their voices. Cousin Sophronia, coming out with an
+inquiry, became instantly suspicious, and declared she must go and see
+what they were about; but Margaret begged her to wait a little. "They
+can do no harm in the summer-house!" she said. "And--Uncle John thought
+we would better let them alone a good deal, Cousin Sophronia."
+
+"My love," said the lady, seating herself, and folding her hands for a
+good talk, "your Uncle John is a babe, simply a babe in these matters.
+Even if he knew anything about children,--which he does not,--it would
+be my duty, my positive duty, to shield him from all anxieties of this
+kind. Why else did I come here, my love, except for this very thing?"
+
+"Did you, then, know that Cousin Anthony wished to send the children?"
+asked Margaret, perhaps not without a spice of gentle malice.
+
+"Ahem! No, not precisely, my love! But--but it was my firm resolve to
+protect dearest John from every species of annoyance. Every species, my
+dear! John Montfort--good gracious! What is that?" She started to her
+feet, and Margaret followed her example. A sound seemed to pass them in
+the air; a strange sound, something between a sigh and a moan. It
+swelled for a moment, then died away among the trees beyond the
+verandah. Miss Sophronia clutched Margaret's arm. "You--you made that
+noise?" she whispered. "Say it was you, Margaret!"
+
+"Indeed, it was not I, Cousin Sophronia!" said Margaret. "It must have
+been a sudden gust of wind. It is gone now; it must surely have been
+the wind. Shall I bring you a wrap? Do you feel chilly?"
+
+Miss Sophronia still held her arm. "No, no! Don't go!" she said. "I--I
+feel rather nervous to-night, I think. Nerves! Yes, no one knows what I
+suffer. If you had any idea what my nights are-- You may be right, my
+dear, about the wind. It is a misfortune, I always say, to have such
+exquisite sensibility. The expression is not my own, my love, it is
+Doctor Soper's. Shall we go into the house, and light the lamps? So much
+more cheerful, I always think, than this dreary twilight."
+
+Margaret hesitated a moment. The evening was very warm, and once in the
+house, her cousin would be sure to shut all the windows and draw the
+curtains. Still, she must not be selfish--
+
+"If I join you in a few minutes, Cousin Sophronia?" she said. "The
+children--I suppose it is time for them to come in. I will just go down
+to the summer-house and see--"
+
+The sentence remained unfinished; for at that moment, almost close
+beside them, arose the strange moaning sound once more. This time Miss
+Sophronia shrieked aloud. "Come!" she cried, dragging Margaret towards
+the house. "Come in this moment! It is the Voice! The Voice of Fernley.
+I will not stay here; I will not go in alone. Come with me, Margaret!"
+
+She was trembling from head to foot, and even Margaret, who was not
+timid about such matters, felt slightly disturbed. Was this some trick
+of the children? She must go and hunt them up, naughty little things.
+Ah! What was that, moving in the dusk? It was almost entirely dark now,
+but something was certainly coming up the gravel walk, something that
+glimmered white against the black box-hedges. Miss Sophronia uttered
+another piercing shriek, and would have fled, but Margaret detained her.
+"Who is that?" said the girl. "Basil, is that you? Where are the other
+children?"
+
+The white figure advanced; it was tall and slender, and seemed to have
+no head. Miss Sophronia moaned, and cowered down at Margaret's side.
+
+"I beg pardon!" said a deep, cheerful voice. "I hope nothing is wrong.
+It is only I, Miss Montfort,--Gerald Merryweather."
+
+Only a tall youth in white flannels; yet, at that moment, no one, save
+Uncle John himself, could have been more welcome, Margaret thought. "Oh,
+Mr. Merryweather," she said, "I am so glad to see you! No, nothing is
+wrong, I hope; that is--won't you come up on the verandah? My
+cousin--Cousin Sophronia, let me present Mr. Merryweather."
+
+Mr. Merryweather advanced, bowing politely to the darkness; when, to his
+amazement, the person to whom he was to pay his respects sprang forward,
+and clutched him violently.
+
+"You--you--you abominable young man!" cried Miss Sophronia, shrilly.
+"You made that noise; you know you made it, to annoy me! Don't tell me
+you did not! Get away from here this instant, you--you--impostor!"
+
+Margaret was struck dumb for an instant, and before she could speak,
+Gerald Merryweather was replying, quietly, as if he had been throttled
+every day of his life:
+
+"If choking is your object, madam, you can do it better by pulling the
+other way, I would suggest. By pulling in this direction, you see, you
+only injure the textile fabric, and leave the _corpus delicti_
+comparatively unharmed."
+
+He stood perfectly still; Miss Sophronia still clutched and shook him,
+muttering inarticulately; but now Margaret seized and dragged her off by
+main force. "Cousin Sophronia!" she cried. "How can you--what can you be
+thinking of? This is Mr. Merryweather, I tell you, the son of Uncle
+John's old schoolmate. Uncle John asked him to call. I am sure you are
+not well, or have made some singular mistake."
+
+"I don't believe a word of it!" said Miss Sophronia. "Not one single
+word! What was he making that noise for, I should like to know?"
+
+Mr. Merryweather answered with a calm which he was far from feeling. His
+pet necktie was probably ruined, his collar crumpled, very likely his
+coat torn. He had taken pains with his toilet, and now he had been set
+upon and harried, by some one he had never seen, but whom he felt sure
+to be the Gorgon who had glared at him out the window several days
+before. This was a horrid old lady; he saw no reason why he should be
+attacked in the night by horrid old ladies, when he was behaving
+beautifully.
+
+"I am sorry!" he said, rather stiffly. "I was not conscious of speaking
+loud. Miss Montfort asked who it was, and I told her. If I have offended
+_her_, I am ready to apologise--and withdraw."
+
+This sounded theatrical, it occurred to him; but then, the whole scene
+was fit for the variety stage. Poor Margaret felt a moment of despair.
+What should she do?
+
+"Mr. Merryweather," she said, aloud, "Miss Montfort has been much
+startled. Just before you came, we heard a noise; rather a strange
+noise, which we could not account for. I think her nerves are somewhat
+shaken. She will be better in a moment. And--and I was just going to the
+summer-house, to call the children. Would you come with me, I wonder?"
+
+Miss Sophronia clamoured that she could not be left alone, but for once
+Margaret was deaf to her appeals. She was too angry; her guest--that
+is, her uncle's guest--to be set upon and shaken, as if he were a
+naughty child caught stealing apples,--it was too shameful! He would
+think they were all out of their senses.
+
+"Oh, I am so sorry! So sorry!" she found herself saying aloud. "Mr.
+Merryweather, I am so mortified, so ashamed! What can I say to you?"
+
+"Say!" said Gerald, his stiffness gone in an instant. "Don't say
+anything, Miss Montfort. I--I don't mean that; I mean, there's nothing
+_to_ say, don't you know? Why, it wasn't your fault! Who ever thought of
+its being your fault?"
+
+"I ought to have recognised you sooner!" said Margaret. "It was pretty
+dark, and we had really been startled, and my cousin is very nervous. If
+you would _please_ overlook it this time I should be so grateful!"
+
+"Oh, I _say_!" cried the young man. "Miss Montfort, if you go on in this
+way, I shall go back and ask the old--and ask the lady to choke me some
+more. I--I _like_ being choked! I like anything; only don't go on so!
+Why, it isn't any matter in the world. Perhaps it relieved her feelings
+a bit; and it didn't do me any harm." He felt of his necktie, and
+settled his collar as well as he could, thankful for the friendly
+darkness. "Indeed, I am all right!" he assured her, earnestly. "Trivets
+aren't a circumstance to me, as far as rightness is concerned. Now if
+you'll forget all about it, Miss Montfort, please, I shall be as happy
+as the bounding roe,--or the circumflittergating cockchafer!" he added,
+as a large June-bug buzzed past him.
+
+"You are very good!" murmured Margaret. "I am sure--but here is the
+summer-house. Children, are you here? Basil! Susan D.!"
+
+No answer came. The frogs chirped peacefully, the brook at the foot of
+the garden sent up its soft, bubbling murmur; there was no other sound.
+It was very dark, for the trees were thick overhead. The fireflies
+flitted hither and thither, gleaming amid the thickets of honeysuckle
+and lilac; the young man's figure beside her glimmered faintly in the
+darkness, but there was no glimpse of Susan D.'s white frock, or
+Basil's white head.
+
+"Children!" cried Margaret again. "Don't play any tricks, dears! It is
+bedtime, and after, and you must come in. Susan, Cousin wants you,
+dear!"
+
+Silence; not a rustle, not a whisper.
+
+"I should suppose they had gone," said Gerald. "Or do you think they are
+playing hookey? Wait a minute, and I'll hunt around."
+
+But search availed nothing; the children were not in the summer-house,
+nor near it. "They must have gone back to the house," said Margaret.
+"Thank you so much, Mr. Merryweather. I am sorry to have given you all
+this trouble for nothing."
+
+"Oh, trouble!" said Gerald. "This isn't my idea of trouble, Miss
+Montfort. What a pretty place this is! Awfully--I mean, extremely
+pretty."
+
+"It is pretty in the daytime. I should hardly think you could see
+anything now, it is so dark."
+
+"Well, yes, it is dark; but I mean it seems such a pleasant place to
+sit and rest in a little. Hadn't you better sit and rest a minute, Miss
+Montfort? The children are all right, you may be sure. Gone to bed, most
+likely, like good little kids. I--I often went to bed, when I was a
+kid."
+
+Margaret could not help laughing; nevertheless, she turned decidedly
+towards the house. "I am afraid I cannot be sure of their having gone to
+bed," she said. "I think I must find them, Mr. Merryweather, but if you
+are tired, you shall rest on the verandah while I hunt."
+
+Gerald did not want to rest on the verandah, particularly if his recent
+assailant were still there. He wanted to stay here in the garden. He
+liked the fireflies, and the frogs; the murmur of the brook, and the
+soft voice speaking out of the darkness. He thought this was a very nice
+girl; he wished she would not be so uneasy about those tiresome
+youngsters. However, as there seemed to be no help for it, he followed
+Margaret in silence up the gravel walk. She need not hurry so, he
+thought; it was very early, not half past eight yet. He wanted to make
+his call; he couldn't dress up like this every night; and, besides, it
+was a question whether he could ever wear this shirt again by daylight.
+
+Miss Sophronia was not on the verandah.
+
+"Will you not come in?" asked Margaret at the door; but Gerald felt,
+rather than heard, the uneasiness in her voice, and decided, much
+against his inclination, that it would be better manners to say good
+night and take himself off.
+
+"I think I must be going," he had begun already, when, from the open
+door behind them, burst a long, low, melancholy wail. The girl started
+violently. The young man bent his ear in swift attention. The voice--the
+cry--trembled on the air, swelled to a shriek; then died slowly away
+into a dreary whisper, and was gone.
+
+Before either of the young people could speak, the library door was
+flung open, and a wild figure came flying out. Miss Sophronia threw
+herself once more upon Gerald, and clung to him with the energy of
+desperation. "My dear young man!" cried the distracted lady. "Save me!
+Protect me! I knew your father! I was at school with your
+mother,--Miranda Cheerley. Save me,--hold me! Do not desert me! You are
+my only hope!"
+
+It was past nine o'clock when Gerald Merryweather finally took his
+departure. The children had been discovered,--in bed, and apparently
+asleep. Three neatly folded piles of clothes showed at least that they
+had gone to bed in a proper and reasonable manner. Miss Sophronia
+Montfort had finally been quieted, by soothing words and promises,
+followed up by hot malted milk and checkerberry cordial, the latter
+grimly administered by Frances, and so strong that it made the poor lady
+sneeze. Margaret was to sleep with her; Gerald was to come the next
+morning to see how she was; meanwhile, Frances and Elizabeth, the latter
+badly frightened, the former entirely cool and self-possessed, were to
+sleep in the front chamber, and be at hand in case of any untoward
+event.
+
+There was nothing further to be done save to shake hands warmly with
+Margaret, submit to an embrace from Miss Sophronia, and go. Mr.
+Merryweather strode slowly down the garden path, looking back now and
+then at the house, where already the lights on the lower floor were
+being extinguished one by one.
+
+"That's a very nice girl!" he murmured. "Hildegarde would approve of
+that girl, I know. But on the other hand, my son, that is a horrid old
+lady. I should like--Jerry, my blessed infant, I _should_ like--to make
+that old lady run!" He turned for a final glance at the house;
+considered the advisability of turning a handspring; remembered his
+white flannels, and, with a bow to the corner window, was gone in the
+darkness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+WHO DID IT?
+
+
+"Frightened, was she?" said Mrs. Peyton. "How sad! Margaret, you are not
+looking at my bed-spread. This is the first day I have used it, and I
+put it on expressly for you. What is the use of my having pretty things,
+if no one will look at them?"
+
+"Indeed, it is very beautiful!" said Margaret. "Everything you have is
+beautiful, Mrs. Peyton."
+
+"It is Honiton!" said Mrs. Peyton. "It ought to be handsome. But you do
+not care, Margaret, it is perfectly easy to see that. You don't care
+about any of my things any more. I was simply a new toy to you in the
+beginning, and you liked to look at me because I was pretty. Now you
+have new toys,--Sophronia Montfort, I suppose, and a sweet plaything she
+is! and you pay no further attention to me. Deny it if you can!"
+
+Margaret did not attempt to deny it; she was too absolutely truthful not
+to feel a certain grain of fact in the lady's accusation. Life was
+opening fuller and broader upon her every day; how could she think of
+lace bed-spreads, with three children constantly in her mind, to think
+and plan and puzzle for? To say nothing of Uncle John and all the rest.
+And as to the "new toy" aspect, Margaret knew that she might well enough
+turn the accusation upon her lovely friend herself; but this she was too
+kind and too compassionate to do. Would not any one want toys, perhaps,
+if forced to spend one's life between four walls?
+
+So she simply stroked the exquisite hand that lay like a piece of carved
+ivory on the splendid coverlet, and smiled, and waited for the next
+remark.
+
+"I knew you would not deny it!" the lady said. "You couldn't, you see.
+Well, it doesn't matter! I shall be dead some day, I hope and trust. So
+Sophronia was frightened? Tell me more about it!"
+
+"She was very much frightened!" said Margaret. "Mrs. Peyton, I wanted
+to ask you--when the children came home yesterday, they said something
+about your having told them some story of old times here; of a ghost, or
+some such thing. I never heard of anything of the sort. Do you--do you
+remember what it was? I ought not to torment you!" she added,
+remorsefully; for Mrs. Peyton put her hand to her head, and her brow
+contracted slightly, as if with pain.
+
+"Only my head, dear, it is rather troublesome to-day; I suppose I ought
+not to talk very much! Yes, there was a ghost, or something like one, in
+old times, when I was a child. I wasn't at Fernley at the time, but I
+heard about it; Sophronia was there, and I remember she was frightened
+into fits, just as you describe her last night."
+
+"What--do you remember anything about it? It isn't that old story of
+Hugo Montfort, is it, the man who looks for papers?"
+
+"Oh, no, nothing so interesting as that! I always longed to see Hugo.
+No, this is just a voice that comes and goes, wails about the rooms and
+the gardens. It is one of the Montfort women, I believe, the one who
+cut up her wedding-gown and then went mad."
+
+"Penelope?"
+
+"That's it! Penelope Montfort. Once in a while they see her, but very
+rarely, I believe."
+
+"Mrs. Peyton, you are making fun of me. Aunt Faith told me there was no
+ghost except that of Hugo Montfort; of course I don't mean that there is
+really that; but no ghost that people had ever fancied."
+
+"Ah, well, my dear, all this was before Mrs. Cheriton came to Fernley!
+Before such a piece of perfection as she was, no wandering ghost would
+have ventured to appear. Now don't stiffen into stone, Margaret
+Montfort! I know she was a saint, but she never liked me, and I am not a
+saint, you see. I was always a sinner, and I expect to remain one. And
+certainly, there was a white figure seen about Fernley, at that time I
+was speaking of; and no one ever found out what it was; and if you want
+to know any more, you must ask John Montfort. There, now my head is
+confused, and I shall not have a straight thought again to-day!"
+
+The lady turned her head fretfully on the pillow. Margaret, who knew her
+ways well, sat silent for some minutes, and then began to sing softly:
+
+        O sweetest lady ever seen,
+          (With a heigh ho! and a lily gay,)
+        Give consent to be my queen,
+          (As the primrose spreads so sweetly.)
+
+Before the long ballad was ended, the line between Mrs. Peyton's
+eyebrows was gone, and her beautiful face wore a look of contentment
+that was not common to it.
+
+"Go away now!" the lady murmured. "You have straightened me out again.
+Be thankful for that little silver voice of yours, child! You can do
+more good with it in the world than you know. I really think you are one
+of the few good persons who are not odious. Go now! Good-bye!"
+
+Margaret went away, thinking, as she had often thought before, how like
+her Cousin Rita this fair lady was. "Only Rita has a great, great deal
+more heart!" she said to herself. "Rita only laughs at people when she
+is in one of her bad moods. Dear Rita! I wonder where she is to-day.
+And Peggy is driving the mowing machine, she writes; mowing hundreds of
+acres, and riding bareback, and having a glorious time."
+
+A letter had come the day before from Peggy Montfort, telling of all her
+delightful doings on the farm, and begging that her darling Margaret
+would come out and spend the rest of the summer with her. "Darling
+Margaret, do, do, _do_ come! Nobody can possibly want you as much as I
+do; nobody can begin to think of wanting you one hundredth part as much
+as your own Peggy."
+
+Margaret had laughed over the letter, and kissed it, and perhaps there
+was a tear in her eye when she put it away to answer. It was good, good
+to be loved. And Peggy did love her, and so she hoped--she knew--did
+Uncle John; and now the children were hers, two of them, at least; hers
+to have and to hold, so far as love went. Go away and leave them now,
+when they needed her every hour? "No, Peggy dear, not even to see your
+sweet, round, honest face again."
+
+Coming back to the house she found Gerald Merryweather on the verandah.
+He was in his working clothes again, but they were fresh and spotless,
+and he was a pleasant object to look upon. He explained that he had
+called to inquire for the ladies' health, and to express his hope that
+they had suffered no further annoyance the night before. He was on his
+way to the bog, and just thought he would ask if there was anything he
+could do.
+
+"Thank you!" said Margaret, gratefully. "You are very good, Mr.
+Merryweather. No; nothing more happened; and my poor cousin got some
+sleep after awhile. But I still cannot imagine what the noise was, can
+you?"
+
+"So many noises at night, don't you know?" said Gerald. "Especially
+round an old house like this. You were not personally alarmed, were you,
+Miss Montfort? I think you may be pretty sure that there was nothing
+supernatural about it. Oh, I don't mean anything in particular, of
+course; but--well, I never saw a ghost; and I don't believe in 'em. Do
+you?"
+
+"Certainly not. I didn't suppose any one believed in them nowadays.
+But,--do you know, I really am almost afraid my Cousin Sophronia does.
+She will not listen to any explanation I can suggest. I really--oh, here
+she is, Mr. Merryweather!"
+
+Miss Sophronia greeted Gerald with effusion. "I heard your voice, my
+dear young man," she said, "and I came down to beg that you would take
+tea with us this evening--with my niece--she is quite the same as my own
+niece; I make no difference, dearest Margaret, I assure you,--with my
+niece and me. If--if there should be any more unpleasant occurrences, it
+would be a comfort to have a man, however young, on the premises. Willis
+sleeps in the barn, and he is deaf, and would be of little use. He
+couldn't even be of the smallest use, if we should be murdered in our
+beds."
+
+"Oh, but we are not going to be murdered, Cousin Sophronia," said
+Margaret, lightly. "We are going to be very courageous, and just let
+that noise understand that we care nothing whatever about it."
+
+"Margaret, my love, you are trivial," responded Miss Sophronia,
+peevishly. "I wish you would pay attention when I speak. I ask Mr.
+Merryweather to take tea with us, and you talk about noises. Very
+singular, I am sure."
+
+"Oh, but of course it would be very pleasant, indeed, to have Mr.
+Merryweather take tea with us!" cried Margaret, in some confusion. "I
+hope you will come, Mr. Merryweather."
+
+It appeared that nothing in the habitable universe would give Mr.
+Merryweather greater pleasure. At half-past six? He would not fail to be
+on hand; and if there should be noises again, why--let those who made
+them look to themselves. And, with this, the young man took his leave.
+
+The children were very troublesome that day. Margaret could not seem to
+lay her hand on any one of them. If she called Basil, he was "in the
+barn, Cousin Margaret, helping Willis with the hay. Of course I'll come,
+if you want me, but Willis seems to need me a good deal, if you don't
+mind."
+
+When it was time for Susan D.'s sewing, the child came most obediently
+and affectionately; but her thimble was nowhere to be found, and she had
+mislaid her spool, and, finally, when everything was found, she had not
+sat still ten minutes, when she was "_so_ thirsty; and must go and get a
+glass of water, please, Cousin Margaret!"
+
+"Susan," said Margaret, "I want to talk to you, and I cannot seem to get
+a chance for a word. Sit still now, like a good little girl, and tell
+me--"
+
+"Yes, Cousin Margaret, I couldn't find my thimble first, you see; and
+then there wasn't any spool, and I left it in my basket yesterday, I'm
+sure I did, but Merton _will_ take it to teach the kitten tricks with,
+and then it gets all dirty. Don't you know how horrid a spool is when a
+kitten has been playing with it? You have to wind off yards and yards,
+and then the rest is sort of fruzzly, and keeps making knots."
+
+"Yes, I know. Susan D., what were you doing last evening?" said
+Margaret.
+
+"Last evening?" repeated the child. "We were in the summer-house,
+Cousin Margaret. We were playing Scottish Chiefs, don't you know? Merton
+had to play Lord Soulis, 'cause he drew the short straw; but he got
+cross, and wouldn't play good a bit."
+
+"Wouldn't play _well_, or _nicely_," corrected Margaret. "But after
+that, Susan dear?"
+
+"That took a long time," said the child. It seemed, when she was alone
+with Margaret, that she could not talk enough; the little pent-up nature
+was finding most delightful relief and pleasure in unfolding before the
+sympathy that was always warm, always ready.
+
+"You see, when it came to carrying me off (I was Helen Mar, after I'd
+been Marion and was dead), Merton was just horrid. He said he wouldn't
+carry me off; he said he wouldn't have me for a gift, and called me
+Scratchface, and all kinds of names. And of course Lord Soulis wouldn't
+have talked that way; so Wallace (of course Basil _had_ to be Wallace
+when he drew the long straw, and he never cheats, though Merton does,
+whenever he gets a chance)--well, and so, Wallace told him, if he
+didn't carry me off in two shakes of a cat's tail--"
+
+"Susan D.!"
+
+"Well, that's what he _said_, Cousin Margaret. I'm telling you just as
+it happened, truly I am. If he didn't carry me off in two shakes of a
+cat's tail, he'd pitch him over the parapet,--you know there's a
+splendid parapet in the summer-house,--and so he wouldn't, and so he
+did; but Mert held on, and they both went over into the meadow. I guess
+Lord Soulis got the worst of it down there, for when they climbed up
+again he did carry me off, though he pinched me hard all the way, and
+made my arm all black and blue; I didn't say anything, because I was
+Helen Mar, but I gave it to him good--I mean well--this morning, and
+served him out. And then Wallace had to rescue me, of course, and that
+was _great_, and we all fell over the parapet again, and that was the
+way I tore the gathers out of my frock. So you see, Cousin Margaret!"
+
+Susan D. paused for breath, and bent over her sewing with exemplary
+diligence. Margaret took the child's chin in her hand, and raised her
+face towards her.
+
+"Susan," she said, gently, "after you had that fine play--it must have
+been a great play, and I wish I had seen it--after that, what did you
+do?"
+
+"We--we--went to bed!" said Susan D.
+
+"Why did you go without coming to say good night? Answer me truly, dear
+child."
+
+The two pairs of gray eyes looked straight into each other. A shadow of
+fear--a suggestion of the old look of distrust and suspicion--crept into
+the child's eyes for a moment; but before Margaret's kind, firm, loving
+gaze it vanished and was gone. A wave of colour swept over her face; her
+eyes wavered, gave one imploring glance, and fell.
+
+"Aren't you going to tell me, Susan D.?" asked Margaret once more.
+
+"N--no!" said Susan D., in a whisper scarcely audible.
+
+"No? And why not, dear child?"
+
+"I promised!" whispered Susan D.
+
+"Susan D., do you know anything about that strange noise that frightened
+us so last night?"
+
+But not another word would Susan D. say. She looked loving, imploring,
+deprecating; she threw her arms around Margaret's neck, and hid her face
+and clung to her; but no word could she be brought to say. At last
+Margaret, displeased and puzzled, felt constrained to tell the child
+rather sternly to fold her work and go away, and not come back to her
+till she could answer questions properly. Susan went obediently; at the
+door she hesitated, and Margaret heard a little sigh, which made her
+heart go out in sympathy toward the little creature. Instantly she rose,
+and, going to the child, put her arms round her affectionately.
+
+"Darling, I think you are puzzled about something," she said, quickly.
+Susan D. nodded, and clung close to her cousin's side.
+
+"I will not ask you anything more," said Margaret. "I am going to trust
+you, Susan D., not to do anything wrong. Remember, dear, that the two
+most important things in the world are truth and kindness. Now kiss me,
+dear, and go."
+
+Left alone, Margaret sat for some time, puzzling over what had happened,
+and wondering what would happen next. It was evident that the children
+were concerned in some way, or at least had some knowledge, of the
+mysterious sounds which had so alarmed Miss Sophronia. What ought she to
+do? How far must she try to force confession from them, if it were her
+duty to try; and how could she do it?
+
+Thus pondering, she became aware of voices in the air; she sat near the
+open window, and the voices were from above her. The nursery window! She
+listened, bending nearer, and holding her breath.
+
+"Well, if you back out now, Susan D., it will be mean!" Basil was
+saying. "What did you say to her?"
+
+"I didn't say anything!" Susan D. answered, sullenly.
+
+"Why didn't you tell her that we had a pain, and didn't want to bother
+her, 'cause she had company?" cried Merton, eagerly. "I had that all
+fixed to tell her, only she never asked me."
+
+"I wouldn't tell her a lie," said Susan D. "Basil, you wouldn't tell her
+a lie, either, you know you wouldn't, when she looks at you that way,
+straight at you, and you can't get your eyes away."
+
+"Of course I wouldn't," said Basil. "And the reason she didn't ask you,
+Merton, was because she knew it wouldn't make much difference what you
+said. That's the trouble about you. But now, Susan, if you had only had
+a little dipplo-macy, you could have got through all right, as I did."
+
+"I don't know what you mean by dipplo-macy," retorted Susan.
+
+"Ho, stupid!" sneered Merton.
+
+"I don't believe you know what it means yourself!" cried Basil. "Come,
+tell now, if you are so wise. What does it mean? Ah, I knew you didn't
+know! You _are_ a sneak, Mert! Well, I guess in the beginning, when Adam
+was making the words, you know, he must have wanted to hide from the
+serpent or something--perhaps a hairy mammoth, or a megatherium, I
+shouldn't wonder,--so he said, 'Dip low,' and then 'Massy!' for a kind
+of exclamation, you see. And spelling gets changed a lot in the course
+of time; you can see that just from one class to another in the grammar
+school. Well, anyhow, it means a sort of getting round things, managing
+them, without telling lies, or truth either."
+
+"You've got to tell one or the other," objected Susan D.
+
+"No, you haven't, either! Now, how did I manage? I have just kept out of
+Cousin Margaret's way all day, so far, and I'm going to keep out the
+rest of it. I've been helping Willis ever since breakfast, and he says I
+really helped him a great deal, and I'll make a farmer yet; only I
+won't, 'cause I'm going into the navy. And now pretty soon I'm going in,
+in a tearing hurry, and ask her if I can take some lunch and go over to
+see Mr. Merryweather at the bog, 'cause he is going to give me a lesson
+in surveying. He _is_; he said he would, any time I came over. And so,
+you see--"
+
+"That's all very well," interrupted Merton, scornfully. "But when it
+comes night, what'll you do then, I should like to know?"
+
+"Easy enough. I shall have a headache, and she won't ask me questions
+when I have a headache; she'll just sit and stroke my head, and put me
+to sleep."
+
+"Ho! How'll you get your headache? Have to tell a lie then, I guess."
+
+"No, sir, I won't! And if you say that again, I'll bunt you up against
+the wall. Easy enough to get a headache. I don't know whether I shall
+eat hot doughnuts, or just ram my head against the horse-chestnut-tree
+till it aches; but I'll get the headache, you may bet your boots--"
+
+"Basil, she asked you not to say that, and you said you wouldn't."
+
+"Well, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to. Pull out a hair, Susan D., and then
+I shall remember next time. Ouch! You pulled out two."
+
+"I say, come on!" cried Merton. "We've got lots of things to see to. We
+have to--"
+
+The voices were gone. Margaret sat still, sewing steadily, and working
+many thoughts into her seam.
+
+It might have been half an hour after this that Basil burst into the
+room, breathless and beaming, his tow-colored hair standing on end. "Oh,
+Cousin Margaret, can I--I mean may I, go over to the bog? Mr.
+Merryweather said he would give me a lesson in surveying; and Frances is
+going to put me up some luncheon, and I'm in a _norful_ hurry. May I go,
+please?"
+
+"Yes, Basil; you may go after you have answered me one question."
+
+"Yes, Cousin Margaret," said the diplomat. "I may miss Mr. Merryweather
+if I don't go pretty quick, but of course I will."
+
+"Basil, did you make that strange noise last night?"
+
+"No, Cousin Margaret!" cried the boy; the smile seemed to break from
+every corner of his face at once, and his eyes looked straight truth
+into hers. "I did not. Is that all? You said one question! Thank you
+ever and ever so much! Good-bye!" And he was gone.
+
+"It is quite evident that I am not a dipplo-mat," said Margaret, with a
+laugh that ended in a sigh. "I wish Uncle John would come home!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+BLACK SPIRITS AND WHITE.
+
+
+The evening fell close and hot. Gerald Merryweather, taking his way to
+Fernley House, noticed the great white thunder-heads peering above the
+eastern horizon. "There'll be trouble by and by," he said.
+
+        "I wonder, oh, I wonder,
+         If they're afraid of thunder.
+
+"Ever lapsing into immortal verse, my son. You are the Lost Pleiad of
+Literature, that's what you are; and a mighty neat phrase that is. Oh,
+my Philly, why aren't you here, to take notice of my coruscations? Full
+many a squib is born to blaze unseen, and waste its fizzing--Hello, you,
+sir! Stop a minute, will you?"
+
+A small boy was scudding along the path before him. He turned his head,
+but on seeing Gerald he only doubled his rate of speed. Merton was a
+good runner for his size, but it was ill trying to race the Gambolling
+Greyhound, as Gerald had been called at school. Two or three quick
+steps, two or three long, lopping bounds, and Master Merton was caught,
+clutched by the collar, and held aloft, wriggling and protesting.
+
+"You let me go!" whined Merton. "Oh, please Mr. Merryweather, don't stop
+me now. It's very important, indeed, it is."
+
+"Just what I was thinking," said Gerald. "We'll go along together, my
+son. I wouldn't squirm, if I were you; destructive to the collar;
+believe one who has suffered. What! it is not so many years. Take
+courage, small cat, and strive no more!"
+
+Merton, after one heroic wriggle, gave up the battle, and walked beside
+his captor in sullen silence.
+
+"Come!" said Gerald. "Let us be merry, my son. As to that noise, now!"
+
+"What noise?" asked Merton, peevishly.
+
+"The roarer, my charmer. Why beat about the bush? You frightened the
+old--that is, you alarmed both your cousins, with the joyful instrument
+known among the profane as a roarer. Tush! Why attempt concealment? Have
+I not roared, when time was? And a very pretty amusement, I could never
+deny; but I wouldn't try it again, that's all. You hear, young sir? I
+wouldn't try it again."
+
+"I don't know what you mean--" Merton began; but at this Gerald lifted
+him gently from the ground by his shirt-collar, and, waving him about,
+intimated gently that it would not be good for his health to tell lies.
+
+"Well, I didn't do it, anyhow!" Merton protested. "Honest, I did not."
+
+"Honesty is not written in your expressive countenance, Master Merton
+Montfort," said Gerald. "However, it may be so. We shall see. Meantime,
+young fellow, and merely as between man and man, you understand, it
+would be money in your youthful pocket if you could acquire the habit of
+looking a person in the eyes, and not directing that cherubic gaze at
+the waistcoat buttons, or even the necktie, of your in-ter-loc-utor.
+Now, here we are at the house, and you may go, my interesting popinjay.
+Bear in mind that my eye is upon you. Adieu! adieu! Rrrrrememberrrr
+me!!!"
+
+Gerald put such dramatic fervour into this farewell that Merton was as
+heartily frightened as he could have desired, and scurried away without
+stopping to look behind.
+
+"That's not such a very nice little boy, I believe," said Gerald.
+"T'other one is worth a cool dozen of Master Merton. Well, they won't do
+much mischief while I am to the fore. Though I should be loth to
+interfere with the end they probably have in view. I should like full
+well myself to make that-- Ah, good evening, Miss Montfort!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was so hot after tea, that even Miss Sophronia made no suggestion of
+sitting in the house. They all assembled on the verandah, which faced
+south, so that generally here, if anywhere, a breath of evening coolness
+might be had. To-night, however, no such breath was to be felt. The
+thunder-heads had crept up, up, half-way across the sky; their snowy
+white had changed to blackish blue; and now and again, there opened
+here or there what looked like a deep cavern, filled with lurid flame;
+and then would follow a long, rolling murmur, dying away into faint
+mutterings and losing itself among the treetops.
+
+Miss Sophronia was very uneasy. At one moment she declared she must go
+into the house, she could not endure this; the next she vowed she would
+rather see the danger as it came, and she would never desert the others,
+never.
+
+"Do you think there is danger, my dear young man?" she asked, for
+perhaps the tenth time.
+
+"Why, no!" said Gerald. "No more than usual, Miss Montfort. These trees,
+you see, are a great protection. If the lightning strikes one of them,
+of course it will divert the fluid from the house. If you have no iron
+about your person--"
+
+But here Miss Sophronia interrupted him. She begged to be excused for a
+moment, and went into the house. When she returned, her head was
+enveloped in what looked like a "tidy" of purple wool, while her feet
+were shuffling along in a pair of blue knitted slippers.
+
+"There!" she said, "I have removed every atom of metal, my dear young
+man, down to my hairpins, I assure you; and there were nails in my
+shoes, Margaret. My dear, I advise you to follow my example. So
+important, I always say, to obey the dictates of science. I shall always
+consider it a special providence that sent this dear young man to us at
+this trying time. Go at once, dearest Margaret, I implore you."
+
+But Margaret refused to adopt any such measures of precaution. She was
+enjoying the slow oncoming of the storm; she had seldom seen anything
+more beautiful, she thought, and Gerald agreed with her. He was sitting
+near her, and had taken Merton on his knee, to that young gentleman's
+manifest discomposure. He wriggled now and then, and muttered some
+excuse for getting down, but Gerald blandly assured him each time that
+he was not inconveniencing him in the least, and begged him to make
+himself comfortable, and entirely at home. Meantime, Margaret had
+called Basil and Susan D. to her side, and was holding a hand of each,
+calling upon them from time to time to see the wonderful beauty of the
+approaching storm. They responded readily enough, and were really
+interested and impressed. Once or twice, it is true, Basil stole a
+glance at his sister, and generally found her looking at him in a
+puzzled, inquiring fashion; then he would shake his head slightly, and
+give himself up once more to watching the sky.
+
+It was a very extraordinary sky. The clouds, now deep purple, covered it
+almost from east to west; only low down in the west a band of angry
+orange still lingered, and added to the sinister beauty of the scene.
+The red caverns opened deeper and brighter, and now and again a long,
+zigzag flash of gold stood out for an instant against the black, and
+following it came crack upon crack of thunder, rolling and rumbling over
+their heads. But still the air hung close and heavy, still there was no
+breath of wind, no drop of rain.
+
+Sitting thus, and for the moment silent, there came, in a pause of the
+thunder, a new sound; a sound that some of them, at least, knew well.
+Close at hand, rising apparently from the very wall at their side, came
+the long, eerie wail of the night before. Louder and louder it swelled,
+till it rang like a shriek in their ears, then suddenly it broke and
+shuddered itself away, till only the ghost of a sound crept from their
+ears, and was lost. Margaret and Gerald both sprang to their feet, the
+girl held the children's hands fast in hers, the lad clutched the boy in
+his arms till he whimpered and cried; their eyes met, full of inquiry,
+the same thought flashing from blue eyes and gray. Not the children?
+What, then? Before Gerald could speak, Miss Sophronia was clinging to
+him again, shrieking and crying; calling upon him to save her; but this
+time Gerald put her aside with little ceremony.
+
+"If you'll take this boy!" he cried. "Hold him tight, please, and don't
+let him get off. I'm going--if I may?" he looked swift inquiry at
+Margaret.
+
+"Oh, yes, yes!" cried the girl. "Do go! We are all right. Cousin
+Sophronia, you _must_ let him go."
+
+Dropping Merton into the affrighted lady's arms, the lithe, active youth
+was in the house in an instant, following the Voice of Fernley. There it
+came again, rising, rising,--the cry of a lost soul, the wail of a
+repentant spirit.
+
+"A roarer, by all means!" said young Merryweather. "But where, and by
+whom?" He ran from side to side, laying his ear against the wall here,
+there, following the sound. Suddenly he stopped short, like a dog
+pointing. Here, in this thickness of the wall, was it? Then, there must
+be a recess, a something. What corresponded to this jog? Ha! that little
+low door, almost hidden by the great picture of the boar-hunt. Locked?
+No; only sticking, from not having been opened, perhaps, for years. It
+yielded. He rushed in,--the door closed behind him with a spring. He
+found himself in total darkness,--darkness filled with a hideous cry,
+that rang out sharp and piercing,--then fell into sudden silence.
+
+"Is it you, Master Merton?" said a whisper. "I didn't wait; I thought
+maybe--"
+
+Gerald stretched out his arm, and grasped a solid form. Instantly he was
+grasped in return by a pair of strong arms,--grasped and held with as
+powerful a grip as his own. A full minute passed, two creatures
+clutching each other in the pit-dark, listening to each other's
+breathing, counting each other's heart-beats. Then--
+
+"Who are you?" asked Gerald, under his breath.
+
+"None of your business!" was the reply, low, but prompt. "Who are you,
+if it comes to that?"
+
+"Why,--why, you're a woman!"
+
+"And you're a man, and that's worse. What are you doing here?"
+
+"I am taking tea here. I'm a visitor. I have been here all the evening."
+
+"And I've been here twenty years. I'm the cook."
+
+The young man loosed his hold, and dropped on the floor. He rocked back
+and forth, in silent convulsions of laughter.
+
+"The cook! Great Cæsar, the cook! Oh, dear me! Stop me, somebody.
+What--what did you do it for?" he gasped, between the paroxysms.
+
+"Hush! Young Mr. Merryweather, is it? Do be quiet, sir! We're close by
+the verandah. Was--was she frightened, sir?"
+
+"She? Who? One of 'em was."
+
+"She--the old one. I wouldn't frighten Miss Margaret; but she has too
+much sense. Was the other one scared, sir?"
+
+"Into fits, very near. You did it well, Mrs. Cook! I couldn't have done
+it better,--look here! I shall have to tell them, though. I came
+expressly to find out--"
+
+Groping in the dark, Frances clutched his arm again, this time in a
+gentler grasp. "Don't you do it, sir!" she whispered. "Young gentleman,
+don't you do it! If you do, she'll stay here all her days. No one can't
+stand her, sir, and this were the only way. Hark! Save us! What's that?"
+
+No glimmer of light could penetrate to the closet where they stood, in
+the thickness of the wall, but a tremendous peal of thunder shook the
+house, and Miss Sophronia's voice could be heard calling frantically on
+Gerald to come back.
+
+"I must go," said Gerald. "I--I won't give you away, Mrs. Cook. Shake!"
+
+"You're a gentleman, sir," replied Frances. They shook hands in the
+dark, and Gerald ran out. Even as he opened the door the storm broke. A
+violent blast of wind, a blinding flare, a rattling volley of thunder,
+and down came the rain.
+
+A rush, a roar, the trampling of a thousand horses; and overhead the
+great guns bellowing, and the flashes coming and going--it was a wild
+scene. The family had come in, and were all standing in the front hall.
+All? No, two, only,--Margaret and Miss Sophronia. In the confusion and
+tumult, the children had escaped, and were gone. Margaret, a little
+pale, but perfectly composed, met Gerald with a smile, as if it were the
+most ordinary thing in the world for young gentlemen to walk out of the
+wall. She was supporting Miss Sophronia, who had quite lost her head,
+and was crying piteously that they would die together, and that whoever
+escaped must take her watch and chain back to William. "Poor William,
+what will become of him and those helpless babes?"
+
+"It's all right, Miss Montfort," said Gerald, cheerfully. "I ran the
+noise down, and it was the simplest thing in the world. Nothing to be
+alarmed about, I do assure you; nothing."
+
+"What was it?" asked Margaret, in an undertone.
+
+"I'll tell you by and by," replied the young man, in the same tone. "Not
+now, please; I promised--somebody. You shall know all in good time."
+
+His look of bright confidence was not to be resisted. Margaret nodded
+cheerfully, and submitted to be mystified in her own home by an almost
+total stranger. Indeed, the Voice of Fernley had suddenly sunk into
+insignificance beside the Voice of Nature. The turmoil outside grew more
+and more furious. At length a frightful crash announced that the
+lightning had struck somewhere very near the house. This was the last
+straw for poor Miss Sophronia. She fled up-stairs, imploring Gerald and
+Margaret to follow her. "Let us die together!" she cried. "I am
+responsible for your young lives; we will pass away in one embrace. The
+long closet, Margaret! It is our only chance of life,--the long closet!"
+
+The long closet, as it was called, was in reality a long enclosed
+passage, leading from the Blue Room, where Miss Sophronia slept, to one
+of the spare chambers beyond. It was a dim place, lighted only by a
+transom above the door. Here were kept various ancient family relics
+which would not bear the light of day; a few rusty pictures, some
+ancient hats, and, notably, a bust of some deceased Montfort, which
+stood on a shelf, covered with a white sheet, like a half-length ghost.
+Margaret did not think this gloomy place at all a cheerful place for a
+nervous woman in a thunder-storm; so, nodding to Gerald to follow, she
+ran up-stairs. But before she reached the landing, terrific shrieks
+began to issue from the upper floor; shrieks so agonising, so
+ear-piercing, that they dominated even the clamour of the storm.
+Margaret flew, and Gerald flew after. What new portent was here?
+Breathless, Margaret reached the door of the long closet. It stood open.
+On the floor inside crouched Miss Sophronia, uttering the frantic
+screams which rang through the house. Apparently she had lost the use of
+her limbs from terror, else she would not have remained motionless
+before the figure which was advancing towards her from the gloom of the
+long passage. First a dusky whiteness glimmered from the black of the
+further end, where the half-ghost sat on its shelf; then gradually the
+whiteness detached itself, took shape,--if it could be called
+shape,--emerged into the dim half-light,--came on slowly, silently.
+Shrouded, like the ghostly bust behind it, tall and slender, with dark
+locks escaping beneath the hood or cowl that drooped low over its
+face,--with one hand raised, and pointing stiffly at the unhappy
+woman,--the figure came on--and on--till it saw Margaret. Then it
+stopped. Next came in view the bright, eager face of Gerald
+Merryweather, looking over Margaret's shoulder. And at that, the
+spectre began, very slowly, and with ineffable dignity, to retreat.
+
+"Exclusive party," whispered Gerald. "Objects to our society, Miss
+Montfort. Shall I head him off, or let him go?"
+
+Margaret made no reply; she was bending over the poor lady on the floor,
+trying to make her hear, trying to check the screams which still rang
+out with piercing force.
+
+[Illustration: A LIVELY GHOST.]
+
+"Cousin Sophronia! Cousin, do stop! Do listen to me! It is a trick, a
+naughty, naughty trick; nothing else in the world. Do, please, stop
+screaming, and listen to me. Oh, what shall I do with her?" This remark
+was addressed to Gerald; but that young gentleman was no longer beside
+her. He had been keeping his eye on the spectre, which slowly, softly
+glided back and back, until it melted once more into the thick blackness
+at the further end. Gerald dodged out into the hall, and ran along the
+outer passage, to meet, as he expected, the ghost full and fair at the
+other door. "Run!" cried a small voice. "I'll hold him; run!" Gerald was
+grasped once more, this time by a pair of valiant little hands which
+did their best, and which he put aside very gently, seeing a petticoat
+beneath them. "You sha'n't catch him!" cried the second spectre,
+clinging stoutly to his legs.
+
+        "Twice he wrung her hands in twain,
+         But the small hands closed again!"
+
+Meantime the spectre-in-chief had darted back into the closed passage.
+There was a crash. The half-ghost toppled over as he ran against it, and
+was shivered on the floor, adding another noise to the confusion. The
+phantom raced along the passage, took a flying leap over Miss
+Sophronia's prostrate form, revealing, had any looked, an unsuspected
+blackness of leg beneath the flowing white, and scudded along the square
+upper hall. By this time Gerald was at his heels again, and a pretty
+race it was. Round the hall, up the stairs, and round the landing of the
+attic flight. At the attic door the spectre wavered an instant,--then
+turned, and dashed down-stairs again. Once more round the upper hall,
+now down the great front staircase, gathering his skirts as he went,
+the black legs now in good evidence, and making wonderful play. A good
+runner, surely. But the Greyhound was gaining; he was upon him. The
+phantom gave a wild shriek, gained the front door with one desperate
+leap, and plunged, followed by his pursuer, into the arms of a gentleman
+who stood in the doorway, in the act of entering.
+
+"Easy, there!" said Mr. Montfort, receiving pursuer and pursued with
+impartial calm. "Is it the Day of Judgment, or what?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+A DEPARTURE.
+
+
+"I am extremely sorry, Sophronia, that you were so alarmed last night. I
+trust you feel no ill effects this morning?"
+
+"Ill effects! My dear John, I am a wreck! Simply a wreck, mentally and
+physically. I shall never recover from it--never."
+
+"Oh, don't say that, Cousin Sophronia!" exclaimed Margaret, who was
+really much distressed at all that passed.
+
+"My love, if it is the truth, I must say it. Truth, Margaret, is what I
+live for. No, I shall never recover, I feel it. My prayer is that these
+unhappy children may never know that they are the cause of my
+untimely--"
+
+"Has Basil made his apology?" asked Mr. Montfort, abruptly.
+
+"Yes, John, yes; I am bound to say he has, though he showed little
+feeling in it. Not a tenth part so much as little Merton, who was in
+real sorrow,--actually shed tears,--although he had no hand in the cruel
+deceit. Ah! Merton is the only one of those children who has any heart."
+
+"Indeed?" said Mr. Montfort, "I didn't know it was as bad as that."
+
+"Quite, I assure you, dearest John. If it were not for my poor William
+and his children, I should take Merton with me and be a mother to him.
+His nerves, like mine, are shattered by the terrible occurrences of the
+last two nights. He was positively hysterical as he pointed out to
+me--what I had already pointed out to you, Margaret--that the _real
+thing_ had not been explained. I might, in time, live down the effect of
+those children's wicked jest; but the Voice of Fernley has never been
+explained, and never will be."
+
+Mr. Montfort pulled his moustache, and looked out of the window,
+observing the prospect; but Margaret cried:
+
+"Oh, Cousin Sophronia, you are wrong; indeed, indeed you are! Young Mr.
+Merryweather found out all about it last night, only he had not time to
+tell us. He said it was something perfectly simple, and that there was
+no need of being alarmed in the least."
+
+"By the way," said Mr. Montfort, "I have a note from the lad this
+morning. He found some special tools were needed, and went up to town by
+the early train to see about them. May be gone a day or two, he says.
+What was the noise like, Margaret?"
+
+Margaret was about to tell all she knew, but Miss Sophronia interrupted.
+"Spare me, dearest Margaret, spare me the recalling of details. I am
+still too utterly broken,--I shall faint, I know I shall. John, it was
+simply the voice that was heard ten, or it may be fifteen years ago,
+when I was a young girl. You must remember; it is impossible but that
+you must remember."
+
+"I remember perfectly," said Mr. Montfort. "That was thirty years ago,
+Sophronia; that was in 1866. Oh, yes, I remember." Again Mr. Montfort
+became absorbed in the view from the window. His face was very grave;
+why, then, did the buttons on his waistcoat shake? "And Master Merton
+was frightened, was he?" he resumed, presently. "Ha! that looks bad.
+Good morning, Jones," as a respectable-looking man in livery came up the
+gravel walk. "A note for me? no answer? thanks." The man touched his
+hat, and departed; Mr. Montfort opened the pretty, pearl-coloured note,
+and read, as follows:
+
+        "DEAR JOHN:
+
+        "Don't punish the children; it was partly my
+        fault, and partly your own. I supposed you
+        expected something to happen, and I thought the
+        old trick would serve as well as a new one.
+
+                                    "As ever,
+                                           E. P."
+
+"Humph!" said Mr. Montfort, twisting the note, and frowning at the
+window. "Precisely! and so, you were saying, Sophronia--ahem! that is,
+you are obliged to leave us?"
+
+"Yes, my dearest John, I must go. I could not, no! I could not sleep
+another night beneath this roof. I have told Willis. I am cut to the
+heart at leaving you, so helpless, with only this poor child here, and
+those--those dreadful children of Anthony's. I would so gladly have
+made a home for you, my poor cousin. I live only for others; but still
+it seems my duty _to_ live, and I am convinced that another night here
+would be my death."
+
+"I will not attempt to change your purpose, Sophronia. At the same time
+I am bound to tell you that--a--that the disturbance of which you speak
+is of no supernatural kind, but is attributable to--to human agency
+altogether. If you wish, I will have it looked into at once, or we can
+wait till young Merryweather comes back. He seemed to know about it, you
+say, Margaret. And--but at any rate, Sophronia, we can write you the
+sequel, and, if you feel uneasy, why, as you say-- You have ordered
+Willis? Then I'll go and get some tags for your trunks."
+
+Mr. Montfort retired with some alacrity, and Margaret, with an
+unexplained feeling of guilt at her heart, offered to help Miss
+Sophronia with her packing.
+
+An hour later the lady was making her adieux. The carriage was at the
+door, Willis had strapped on the two trunks, and all was ready. Mr.
+Montfort shook his cousin by the hand, and was sorry that her visit had
+ended in such an untoward manner. Margaret begged Cousin Sophronia's
+pardon for anything she might have done amiss. Indeed, the girl's heart
+was full of a vague remorse. She had tried, but she felt that she might
+have tried harder to make things go smoothly. But Miss Sophronia bore,
+she declared, no malice to any one.
+
+"I came, dear John, determined to do my best, to be a sister to you in
+every way; it will always be a comfort to think that I have been with
+you these two months. It may be that some time, when my nerves are
+restored, I may be able to come to Fernley again; if you should make any
+changes, you understand me. Indeed, a complete change, my dear cousin,
+is the thing I should most recommend. Missing me as you will,--a
+companion of your own age,--you might still marry, dearest John, you
+might indeed. Emily--"
+
+"That will do, Sophronia!" said Mr. Montfort, sternly. "Have you
+everything you want for the journey?"
+
+"Everything, I think, dear John. Ah! well, good-bye, Margaret! It has
+been a blow to find that you do not love me, my dear, as I have loved
+you, but we must bear our burdens."
+
+"What do you--what can you mean, Cousin Sophronia?" asked Margaret,
+turning crimson. "I am sure I have tried--"
+
+"Ah! well, my dear, one gives oneself away," said the lady. "You said in
+your letter to your cousin,--I recall the precise words--'I have tried
+to love her, but I cannot succeed.' Yes; very painful to one who has a
+heart like mine; but I find so few--"
+
+"Cousin Sophronia," cried the girl, all softer thoughts now merged in a
+burning resentment. "You--you read my letter, the letter that was on my
+own desk, in my own room?"
+
+"Certainly, my love, I did. I hope I know something about young girls
+and their ways; I considered it my duty, my sacred duty, to see what you
+wrote."
+
+"You seem to know little about the ways of gentle people!" cried
+Margaret, unable for once to restrain herself. Her uncle laid his hand
+on her arm. "Steady, little woman!" he said. His quiet, warning voice
+brought the angry girl to herself, the more quickly that she knew his
+sympathy was all with her.
+
+"I--I should not have said that, Cousin Sophronia," she said. "I beg
+your pardon! Good-bye!"
+
+She could not say more; she stood still, with burning cheeks, while Mr.
+Montfort helped the lady into the carriage.
+
+"A pleasant journey to you, Sophronia," he said, as he closed the door.
+"Willis--"
+
+"Good-bye!" cried Miss Sophronia, out of the window. "Bless you, dearest
+John! Margaret, my love, I shall always think of you most tenderly,
+believe me, in spite of everything. It is impossible for me to harbour
+resentment. No, my child, I shall always love you as a sister. I have
+taken the old vinaigrette with me, as a little souvenir of you; I knew
+it would give you pleasure to have me use it. Bless you! And, John, if
+you want me to look up some good servants for you, I know of an
+excellent woman who would be the very thing--"
+
+"Willis!" said Mr. Montfort again. "You'll miss that train, Sophronia,
+if you don't,--_bon voyage!_"
+
+Mr. Montfort stood for some seconds looking after the carriage as it
+drove off; then he drew a long breath, and threw out his arms, opening
+his broad chest.
+
+"Ha!" said he. "So that is over. Here endeth the-- What, crying, May
+Margaret? Come and sit here beside me, child; or shall we come out and
+see the roses? Really astonishing to have this number of roses in
+August; but some of these late kinds are very fine, I think."
+
+Chatting quietly and cheerfully, he moved from one shrub to another,
+while Margaret wiped her eyes, and gradually quieted her troubled
+spirit.
+
+"Thank you, Uncle John!" she said, presently. "You know, don't you? You
+always know, just as papa did. But--but I never heard of any one's doing
+such a thing, did you?"
+
+"Didn't you, my dear? Well, you see, you didn't know your Cousin
+Sophronia when she was a girl. And--let us be just," he added. "You,
+belonging to the new order, have no idea of what many people thought and
+did forty years ago. I have no doubt, from my recollection of my Aunt
+Melissa, Sophronia's mother, that she read all her children's letters. I
+know she searched my pockets once, thinking I had stolen sugar; I
+hadn't, that time, and my white rat was in my pocket, and bit her, and I
+was glad."
+
+Seeing Margaret laugh again, Mr. Montfort added, in a different tone,
+"And now, I must see those boys."
+
+The children were sent for to the study, where they remained for some
+time. Basil and Susan D. came out looking very grave; they went up to
+the nursery in silence, and sat on the sofa, rubbing their heads
+together, and now and then exchanging a murmur of sympathy and
+understanding. Merton remained after the others, and when he emerged
+from the fatal door, he was weeping profusely, and refused to be
+comforted by Elizabeth; and was found an hour after, pinching Chico's
+tail, and getting bitten in return. Telling Margaret about it
+afterward, Mr. Montfort said:
+
+"Basil and the little girl tell a perfectly straight story. It is just
+as I supposed; they were trying the old ghost trick that we other boys,
+your father and Richard and I, Margaret, played on Sophronia years ago.
+If the thunder-storm had not brought you all up-stairs, there would have
+been some very pretty ghost-gliding, and the poor soul would very likely
+have been frightened into a real fit instead of an imaginary one.
+Children don't realise that sort of thing; I certainly did not, nor my
+brothers; but I think these two realise it now, and they are not likely
+to try anything of the kind again. As for the noise,--"
+
+"Yes, Uncle John, I am really much more puzzled about that noise, for,
+of course, I saw the other foolishness with my eyes."
+
+"Well!" said Mr. Montfort, comfortably, "we used to make that noise with
+a thing we called a roarer; I don't know whether they have such things
+now. You take a tomato-can, and put a string through it, and then you--
+It really does make a fine noise, very much what you describe. Yes, I
+have that on my conscience, too, Margaret. You see, I told you I knew
+this kind of child, and so I do, and for good reason. But Basil won't
+say anything at all about the matter. He says it was not his hunt, and
+he will tell all that he did, but cannot tell on others; which is
+entirely proper. But when I turned to that other little scamp, Merton, I
+could get nothing but floods of tears, and entreaties that I would ask
+Frances. 'Frances knows all about it!' he said, over and over."
+
+"And have you seen Frances?"
+
+"N--no," replied Mr. Montfort, rather slowly. "I am going to see Frances
+now."
+
+Accordingly, a few minutes later, Frances, bustling about her kitchen,
+became aware of her master standing in the doorway. She became aware of
+him, I say, but it was with "the tail of her eye" only; she took no
+notice of him, and went on rattling dish-pans at an alarming rate. She
+appeared to be house-cleaning; at all events, the usually neat kitchen
+was in a state of upheaval, and the chairs and tables, tubs and
+clothes-horses, were so disposed that it was next to impossible for any
+one to enter. Moreover, Frances apparently had a toothache, for her face
+was tied up in a fiery red handkerchief; and when Mr. Montfort saw that
+handkerchief, he looked grave, and hung about the door more like a
+schoolboy than a dignified gentleman and the proprietor of Fernley
+House.
+
+"Good morning, Frances," he said at length, in a conciliatory tone.
+
+"Good morning, sir," said Frances; and plunged her mop into a pail of
+hot water.
+
+"You have a toothache, Frances? I am very sorry."
+
+"Yes, sir, I have; thank you, sir."
+
+"A--Frances--I came to ask if you can tell me anything about the strange
+noise that frightened the ladies so, last night and the night before."
+
+"No, sir," said Frances. "I can't tell you nothing about it. There do be
+rats enough in this house, Mr. Montfort, to make any kind of a noise;
+and I do wish, sir, as the next time you are in town, you would get me a
+rat-trap as is good for something. There's nothing but trash, as the
+rats won't look at, and small blame to them. I can't be expected to do
+without things to do with, Mr. Montfort, and I was saying so to
+Elizabeth only this morning."
+
+"I will see to the traps, Frances. But this noise that I am speaking of;
+Master Merton says--"
+
+"And I was wishful to ask you, sir, if you would please tell Master
+Merton to keep out of my kitchen, and not come bothering here every hour
+in the day. The child is that greedy, he do eat himself mostly ill every
+day, sir, as his father would be uneasy if he knew it, sir. And to have
+folks hanging round my kitchen when I am busy is a thing I never could
+abide, Mr. John, as you know very well, sir, and I hope you'll excuse me
+for speaking out; and if you'd go along, sir, and be so kind, maybe I
+could get through my cleaning so as to have dinner not above half an
+hour or so late, though I'm doubtful myself, harried as I have been."
+
+"I really don't see what I am to do with Frances," said Mr. Montfort, as
+he went back to his study; "she grows more and more impracticable. She
+will be giving me notice to quit one of these days, if I don't mind. I
+am very sure the house belongs to her, and not to me. But, until Master
+Gerald Merryweather comes back, I really don't see how I am to find out
+who worked that roarer."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+PEACE.
+
+
+Peace reigned once more at Fernley House; peace and cheerfulness, and
+much joy. It was not the same peace as of old, when Margaret and her
+uncle lived their quiet tête-à-tête life, and nothing came to break the
+even calm of the days. Very different was the life of to-day. The peace
+was spiritual purely, for the lively and varied round of daily life gave
+little time for repose and meditation, at least for Margaret. She had
+begun to give the children short but regular lessons in the morning,
+finding that the day was not only more profitable but pleasanter for
+them and for all, if it began with a little study. And the lessons were
+a delight to her. Remembering her struggles with Peggy,--dear Peggy,--it
+was a joy to teach these young creatures the beginnings of her beloved
+English history, and to see how they leaped at it, even as she herself
+had leaped so few years ago. They carried it about with them all day.
+Margaret never knew whom to expect to dinner in these days. Now a
+scowling potentate would stalk in with folded arms and announce that he
+was William the Conqueror, and demand the whereabouts of Hereward the
+Wake (who was pretty sure to emerge from under the table, and engage in
+sanguinary combat, just after he had brushed his hair, and have to be
+sent up to the nursery to brush it over again); now a breathless pair
+would rush in, crying that they were the Princes in the Tower, and would
+she please save them, for that horrid old beast of a Gloster was coming
+after them just as fast as he could come. Indeed, Margaret had to make a
+rule that they should be their own selves, and no one else, in the
+evening when Uncle John came home, for fear of more confusion than he
+would like.
+
+"But I get so _used_ to being Richard," cried Basil, after a day of
+crusader-life. "You can't do a king well if you have to keep stopping
+and being a boy half the time. Don't you see that yourself, Cousin
+Margaret?"
+
+Yes, Margaret saw that, but she submitted that she liked boys, and that
+it was trying for a person in private life, like herself, to live all
+day in royal society, especially when royalty was so excited as the
+Majesty of England was at this juncture.
+
+"Oh, but why can't you be some one too, Cousin Margaret? I suppose Susan
+D. would hate to give up being Berengaria, after you gave her that
+lovely gold veil--I say, doesn't she look bul--doesn't she look pretty
+in it? I never thought Susan D. would come out pretty, but it's mostly
+the way you do her hair--what was I saying, Cousin Margaret? Oh, yes,
+but there are other people you could be, lots and lots of them.
+And--Merton doesn't half do Saladin. He keeps getting mad when I run him
+through the body, and I _can't_ make him understand that I don't mean
+those nasty, fat, black things in ponds, when I call him 'learned
+leech,' and you know he _has_ to be the leech, it says so in the
+'Talisman.' And so perhaps you would be Saladin, and he can be Sir
+Kenneth, though he's too sneaky for him, too. Or else you could be the
+hermit, Cousin Margaret. Oh, do be the hermit! Theodoric of Engedi, you
+know, the Flail of the Desert, that's a splendid one to do. All you have
+to do is keep jumping about and waving something, and crying out, 'I am
+Theodoric of Engedi! I am the Flail of the Desert!' Come on, Cousin
+Margaret, oh, I say, do!" And Susan D., tugging at her cousin's gown,
+shouted in unison, "Oh, I say, do, Cousin Margaret!"
+
+If any one had told Margaret Montfort, three months before this, that
+she would, before the end of the summer, be capering about the garden,
+waving her staff, and proclaiming herself aloud to be the highly
+theatrical personage described above, she would have opened her eyes in
+gentle and rather scornful amazement. But Margaret was learning many
+things in these days, and among them the art of being a child. Her life
+had been mostly spent with older people; she had never known till now
+the rapture of being a little girl, a little boy. Now, seeing it in
+these bright faces, that never failed to grow brighter at sight of her,
+she felt the joy reflected in her own face, in her own heart; and it was
+good to let all the quiet, contained maiden ways go, once in a while,
+and just be a child with the children, or a Flail of the Desert, as in
+the present instance.
+
+John Montfort, leaning on the gate, watched the pretty play, well
+pleased. "They have done her all the good in the world," he said to
+himself. "It isn't only what she has done for them, bless her, but for
+her, too, it has been a great thing. I was selfish and stupid to think
+that a young creature could go on growing to fulness, without other
+young creatures about it. How will she feel, I wonder, about their
+going? How would she like--"
+
+[Illustration: "THE 'FLAIL OF THE DESERT.'"]
+
+At this moment he was discovered by Basil, who charged him with a joyous
+shout. "Oh, here is Uncle John! Oh, Uncle John, don't you want to be
+Saladin, please? Here's Merton has hurt his leg and gone off in a sulk,
+and I'll get you a scimitar in a minute--it's the old sickle, and Willis
+says it's so rusty you can't really do much mischief with it; and
+here's the Hermit of Engedi, you know, and he can shout--"
+
+But, alas, for the Lion-hearted! When he turned to summon his hermit, he
+saw no flying figure, brandishing a walking-stick and crying aloud, but
+a demure young lady, smoothing her hair hurriedly and shaking out the
+folds of her dress, as she hastened to meet her uncle.
+
+"Bravo!" said Uncle John. "But why did you stop, Meg? It wouldn't have
+been the first time I had played Saladin, I assure you!"
+
+"Oh, uncle! I am really too much out of breath to play any more. And
+besides, it is near tea-time, and the children must go and get ready. I
+will come in a moment, Susan dear, and do your hair. Are there any
+letters, Uncle John? Oh, two, from the girls; how perfectly delightful!
+Oh, I must run up, but we'll read them after tea, shall we, Uncle John?"
+
+"With all my heart, my dear; and I have a letter, too, about which I
+shall want to consult you. Go now, or Susan D. will be trying to braid
+her own hair, a thing to be avoided, I have observed."
+
+Tea over, and Mr. Montfort seated at ease with his cigar, the children
+engaged in an enchanting game of Bat (played with worn-out umbrellas,
+from which the sticks had been taken: this game is to be highly
+recommended where there is space for flapping and swooping), Margaret
+opened her letters; reopened them, rather, for it must be confessed that
+she had peeped into both while she was braiding her own hair and
+changing her dress for the pretty evening gown her uncle always liked to
+see.
+
+"Peggy is actually off for school, Uncle John. It does not seem possible
+that we are in September, and the summer really gone. She seems in high
+spirits over it, dear child. Listen!
+
+        "DARLING DEAREST MARGARET:
+
+        "I am going to-morrow; I waited till the last
+        minute, so that I could tell you the last of
+        me. My trunk is almost all packed, and I really
+        think I have done it pretty well. Thank you,
+        ever and ever and ever so much, for the nice
+        things to tie up my shoes in. They are just
+        lovely, and so is the shoe-bag to hang against
+        the wall. I mean to put away every shoe just
+        the very minute I take it off, and not have
+        them kicking about the closet floor at all,
+        ever. And the combing-sack! Oh, Margaret, it is
+        a perfect beauty! Ever so much too pretty to do
+        my hair in, and mother says so, too, but I
+        shall, because you made it for me to, and think
+        of you all the time I am, and--
+
+        "I got a little mixed there, but you will know
+        what I mean, dearest Margaret. Tell Uncle John
+        I am so perfectly delighted with the lovely
+        ring, I don't know _what_ to _do_. Oh,
+        Margaret, you know how I always wanted a ring,
+        and how I used to admire that sapphire of
+        Rita's; and to think of having a sapphire ring
+        myself--why, I can hardly believe it even now!
+        I couldn't go to sleep for ever so long last
+        night, just watching it in the moonlight. Of
+        course I shall write to Uncle John and thank
+        him myself, but I couldn't wait just to let him
+        know how happy I was. (Margaret, if you think
+        he would like it, or at least wouldn't mind it,
+        you might give him a hug just now and say I
+        sent it, but don't unless you are _perfectly
+        sure_ he wouldn't mind, because you know how I
+        _love_ Uncle John, even if I am just the least
+        bit afraid of him, and I'm sure that is natural
+        when you think what a goose I am.)"
+
+Margaret paused, laughing, to throw her arms around her uncle, and tell
+him that this was "Peggy's hug;" then she went on:
+
+        "I was so glad to get your last letter, and to
+        hear all about dear, darling Fernley, and Uncle
+        John, and Elizabeth and Frances, and all the
+        funny things those funny children have been
+        doing. Margaret, they are almost exactly like
+        us children when we were their age. I never
+        began to think about growing up till I read
+        about how they carry on, and then saw that we
+        didn't act so any more, Jean, and Flora, and I.
+        Jean is younger than me, of course, but she's
+        more grown up, I really think. I think you must
+        have a lovely time, now that--well, you said I
+        mustn't call names, and so I won't, but I know
+        just exactly what kind of a person she was,
+        Margaret, and _so do you_, and you can't deny
+        it, so now!
+
+        "Margaret, of course I do feel rather scared
+        about school, for I am still very ignorant, and
+        I suppose all the girls will know about forty
+        thousand times as much as I do, and they will
+        call me stupid, and I know I am; but I mean to
+        be brave, and remember all the things you have
+        said, and mother has helped me, too, oh, a lot,
+        and she says she just wishes she had had the
+        chance when she was a girl, and I know now just
+        how she feels. And then when I come home, you
+        see, I can teach the little girls, and that
+        will be great. But I never shall try to teach
+        them spelling, or history, for you know I
+        cannot; and I cannot remember to this day who
+        Thomas à Bucket was, and why they called him
+        that.
+
+        "Hugh came in just now, and I asked him that,
+        and he laughed, and said Thomas à Bucket was
+        certainly pale before they got through with
+        him. I don't know what he means, but he says
+        you will, so I write it down. Good-bye,
+        dearest, darling Margaret. Give heaps and
+        oceans and lots of love to Uncle John, and most
+        of all to your own darling self, from
+
+                                            "PEGGY."
+
+"I wonder how Peggy will get on at school?" said Margaret. "Very well, I
+should think. Certainly no one can help liking her, dear girl; and she
+will learn a great deal, I am sure."
+
+"She'll never learn English history," said Mr. Montfort; "but after all,
+there are other things, May Margaret, though you are loth to acknowledge
+it."
+
+"And now for Rita. I'll just run through it again, Uncle John, to
+see--oh! oh, yes! The first part is all just that she wants to see me,
+and so on,--her wild way. She has had the most wonderful summer,--'the
+Pyrenees, Margaret! Never before have I seen great mountains, that scale
+the heavens, you understand. The Titans are explained to me. I have
+seen, and my soul has arisen to their height. I could dwell with thee,
+Marguerite, on snow-peaks tinged with morning rose, peaks that touch the
+stars, that veil themselves in clouds of evening;' perhaps I'll skip a
+little here, Uncle John. Interlaken,--the Jungfrau,--oh, she _is_ having
+a glorious time. Oh! oh, dear me, uncle!"
+
+"Well, my dear? She has not fallen off the Jungfrau?"
+
+"No, not that; but she--she is--or she thinks she is--going to be
+married."
+
+Mr. Montfort whistled. "To the Matterhorn, or to some promising young
+avalanche? Pray enlighten me, my dear."
+
+"Oh! don't laugh, Uncle John, I am afraid it may be serious. A young
+Cuban, she says, a soldier, of course." Margaret ran her eyes down the
+page, but found nothing sober enough to read aloud. "He seems to be a
+very wonderful person," she said, timidly. "Handsome, and a miracle of
+courage,--and a military genius; if war should come, Rita thinks he will
+be commander-in-chief of the Cuban army. You don't think it will really
+come to war, Uncle John?"
+
+"I cannot tell, Margaret," said Mr. Montfort, gravely. "Things are
+looking rather serious, but no one can see just what is coming yet. And
+this seems to be a bona fide engagement? It isn't little Fernando, is
+it?"
+
+"No! oh, no! She says--she is sorry for Fernando, but he will always be
+her brother. This one's name is--let me see. José Maria Salvador
+Santillo de Santayana. What a magnificent name! He had followed her from
+Cuba, and he has Uncle Richard's permission to pay his addresses to
+Rita, and she says--she says he is the dream of her life, embodied in
+the form of a Greek hero, with the soul of a poet, and the intellect of
+a Shakespeare. So I suppose it is all right, uncle; only, she is very
+young."
+
+"Young! My dear child, she was grown up while you were still in the
+nursery," said Mr. Montfort. "According to Spanish ideas, it is high
+time for her to be married, and I am sure I wish the dear girl all
+happiness. We must look over the family trinkets, Margaret, and find
+something for our bird of Paradise. There are some pretty bits of
+jewelry; but that will keep. Now, if you can stop wondering and
+romancing for a moment, May Margaret, I, too, have a letter, about which
+I wish to consult you."
+
+"Yes, uncle, oh, yes! I hope he is good as well as handsome, don't you?
+She says the Santillo nose is the marvel of all Cuba."
+
+"The Santillo nose may be pickled in brine, my dear, for ought I care; I
+really want your attention, Margaret, and you must come down from the
+clouds. Here is Anthony Montfort writing for his children."
+
+"_What!_" cried Margaret, waking suddenly from her dream. "What did you
+say about the children, Uncle John? Cousin Anthony writing for them?
+What can you mean?"
+
+"Why, my love, I mean writing for them," said Mr. Montfort, calmly. "He
+is, you may remember, a relation of theirs, a father in point of fact.
+He has found an excellent opening in California, and means to stay
+there. He says--I'll read you his letter, or the part of it that relates
+to the children. Hum--'grateful to you'--ha! yes, here it is. 'Of
+course I must make some arrangement about the children. One of the boys
+can come to me, but I cannot take care of both, so Basil will have to go
+to boarding-school, and Susan D., too. If you would be so good as to
+look up a good school or two, I should be ever so much obliged. Basil
+can take care of himself, you'll only have to consign and ship him;
+perhaps you can get some one to go with the little girl, and see to her
+things and all that. It's a shame to call upon you,'--h'm! so forth!
+Well, Meg, what do you say?"
+
+But Margaret said nothing. She was sitting with her hands fallen on her
+lap, gazing at her uncle with a face of such piteous consternation that
+he had much ado to keep his countenance.
+
+"Take them away!" she faltered, presently. "Take away--my children? Oh,
+Uncle John!"
+
+Mr. Montfort looked away, and smoked awhile in silence, giving the girl
+time to collect herself. Margaret struggled with the tears that wanted
+to rush to her eyes. She forced herself to take up the letters that lay
+in her lap and fold them methodically. When he saw that her hands
+trembled less, Mr. Montfort said, quietly, "The children have been a
+great deal of care to you, Margaret; but you have grown fond of them, I
+know, and so have I. I think a good deal of your judgment, my dear,
+young as you are. What would you like best to have done about the little
+people? Take time; take time! Anthony practically leaves the whole
+matter in my hands. In fact, I think he is puzzled, and feels perhaps
+that he has not done as well as he might for them always. Take time, my
+child."
+
+"Oh, I don't need any time, Uncle John!" cried Margaret, trying to speak
+steadily. "I--I didn't realise, I suppose--it has all come about so
+gradually--I didn't realise all that they were to me. To lose Basil and
+Susan D.,--I don't see how I can let them go, uncle; I don't indeed. You
+won't think me ungrateful, will you, dear? I was, oh, so happy, before
+they came; but now--they are so dear, so dear! and--and Susan D. is
+used to me, and to have her go to a stranger who might not understand
+the poor little shut-up nature--oh, how can I bear it? how can I bear
+it?"
+
+"Well, my dear," said Mr. Montfort, comfortably. "How if you did not
+have to bear it?"
+
+Then, as Margaret raised her startled eyes to his, he went on, in the
+kind, steady tone that always brought quiet and peace with it.
+
+"How if we made the present arrangement--part of it, at
+least--permanent? Let Merton go to his father; I should not care to have
+the bringing up of Merton. But there is an excellent school near here,
+on the island, to which Basil could go, staying the week and coming home
+here for Sunday; and if little Susan would not be too much care for
+you,--she's a dear little girl, once you get through the prickles,--why,
+May Margaret, it seems to me--"
+
+But Mr. Montfort got no further; for here was Margaret sobbing on his
+breast as if she were Rita herself, and calling him the best and
+dearest and kindest, and telling him that she was so happy, so happy;
+and that was why she was crying, only she could not stop; and so on and
+so on, till Uncle John really thought he should have to send for
+Frances. At his suggesting this, however, Margaret laughed through her
+tears, and presently struggled into something like composure.
+
+"And, after all," said Mr. Montfort, "how do you know the children will
+want to stay with you, you conceited young woman?"
+
+"Oh, Uncle John! I will teach Susan D. all I know, and a great deal
+more, I hope, for I shall be learning all the time now, if I have
+another coming after me. And we will keep house together, and it will be
+like the little sister, like little Penelope, Uncle John. And then to
+have Basil coming home every week, all full of school, and fun, and
+noise,--why, how perfectly delightful it will be! And I will not let
+them overrun you, dear uncle; they have been good lately, haven't
+they?"
+
+"They have been extremely good, my dear. All the same, I think you would
+do well to interview them on the subject, before you prepare all your
+chickens for the market. See, there are your two coming up the walk this
+moment. You might go--"
+
+But Margaret was already gone. Mr. Montfort watched her light figure
+flying down the walk, and thought she had grown almost back into a child
+again, since the children came. "And yet all a woman," he said; "all a
+sweet, wholesome, gentle woman. See her now with her arms around the
+child; the little creature clings to her as if she were the mother it
+never knew. Ah! she is telling them. No need to smother her, children. I
+never really meant to separate you; no, indeed. I only wanted you to
+find out for yourselves, as I have found out for myself. No more
+solitude at Fernley, please God; from now on, young faces and hearts,
+and sunshine, and a home; the future instead of the past."
+
+The good man laid down his cigar, quietly and carefully, as he did
+everything, and opened his arms as the three, Margaret and her
+children, came flying towards him; and they ran into those kind strong
+arms and nestled there, and looked into his eyes and knew that they were
+at home.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+"Queen Hildegarde" Series.
+
+By Laura E. Richards.
+
+
+HILDEGARDE'S HARVEST.
+
+The _fifth volume_ of the Hildegarde Series. Illustrated with eight
+full-page cuts. Square 16mo, cloth, $1.25.
+
+A new volume in the "Hildegarde" series, some of the best and most
+deservedly popular books for girls issued in recent years. This new
+volume is fully equal to its predecessors in point of interest, and is
+sure to renew the popularity of the entire series.
+
+
+HILDEGARDE'S NEIGHBORS.
+
+Fourth volume. Illustrated from original designs. Illustrated by L. J.
+Bridgman. Square 16mo, cloth, $1.25.
+
+
+HILDEGARDE'S HOME.
+
+Third volume. Illustrated with original designs by Merrill. Square 16mo,
+cloth, $1.25.
+
+
+HILDEGARDE'S HOLIDAY.
+
+Second volume. Illustrated with full-page plates by Copeland. Square
+16mo, cloth, $1.25.
+
+
+QUEEN HILDEGARDE.
+
+First volume. Illustrated from original designs by Garrett (292 pp.).
+Square 16mo, cloth, $1.25.
+
+"We would like to see the sensible, heroine-loving girl in her early
+teens who would not like this book. Not to like it would simply argue a
+screw loose somewhere."--_Boston Post._
+
+
+THE HILDEGARDE SERIES.
+
+as above. 5 vols., square 16mo, put up in a neat box, $6.25.
+
+***Next to Miss Alcott's famous "LITTLE WOMEN" series they easily rank,
+and no books that have appeared in recent times may be more safely put
+into the hands of a bright, intelligent girl than these five "Queen
+Hildegarde" books.
+
+Estes & Lauriat, Publishers, Boston.
+
+
+
+
+Other Books by Laura E. Richards.
+
+
+LOVE AND ROCKS.
+
+Tall 16mo, handsome cover design, etching frontispiece, $1.00.
+
+A charming story of one of the pleasant islands on the rugged Maine
+coast, told in the author's most graceful manner.
+
+
+WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE.
+
+Quarto, cloth, gilt top. Illustrated, $1.25.
+
+A series of papers which has already delighted the many readers of St.
+Nicholas, now revised and published in book form, with many additions.
+The title most happily introduces the reader to the charming home life
+of Dr. Howe and Mrs. Julia Ward Howe during the childhood of the author,
+and one is young again in reading the delightful sketches of happy child
+life in this most interesting family.
+
+
+GLIMPSES OF THE FRENCH COURT.
+
+Sketches from French History. Handsomely illustrated with a series of
+portraits in etching and photogravure. Square 12mo, cloth, neat cover
+design, gilt top, $1.50.
+
+
+SAME.
+
+_Handsomely bound in celluloid, boxed_, $2.00.
+
+The History of France, during the eighteenth century, is a
+treasure-house of romantic interest, from which the author has drawn a
+series of papers which will appeal to all who care for the picturesque
+in history. With true literary touch, she gives us the story of some of
+the salient figures of this remarkable period.
+
+Estes & Lauriat, Publishers, Boston.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
+
+Page 125, word "the" was inserted into the text (out of the window)
+
+Page 188, "year" changed to "years" (for thirty years)
+
+Page 226, "bothér" changed to "bother" (want to bother her)
+
+Page 268, "scimetar" changed to "scimitar" (a scimitar in a)
+
+The asterism on used on the second to the last advertising page was
+changed to *** for this text version.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Margaret Montfort, by Laura E. Richards
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARGARET MONTFORT ***
+
+***** This file should be named 24828-8.txt or 24828-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/8/2/24828/
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/24828-8.zip b/24828-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..39ec8fa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-8.zip
diff --git a/24828-h.zip b/24828-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f14bf62
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-h.zip
diff --git a/24828-h/24828-h.htm b/24828-h/24828-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3adfa78
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-h/24828-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,8418 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Margaret Montfort, by Laura E. Richards.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
+<!--
+    p {margin-top: .75em;
+       text-align: justify;
+       text-indent: 1.25em;
+       margin-bottom: .75em;
+        }
+    img {border: 0;}
+    .tnote      {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em;
+                  padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;}
+    ins {text-decoration:none;  border-bottom: thin dotted gray;}
+    h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+         text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+         clear: both;
+         }
+    hr { width: 33%;
+	 margin-top: 2em;
+	 margin-bottom: 2em;
+         margin-left: auto;
+         margin-right: auto;
+         clear: both;
+       }
+
+    table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;}
+
+    body{margin-left: 10%;
+         margin-right: 10%;
+        }
+
+    .pagenum  { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
+            /*  visibility: hidden;  */
+                position: absolute;
+                left: 92%;
+                font-size: smaller;
+                text-align: right;
+              } /* page numbers */
+
+    .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;}
+
+    .bbox     {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em;
+                  padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;}
+
+    .center   {text-align: center;}
+    .smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+
+    .caption  {font-weight: bold;}
+
+    .figcenter   {margin: auto; text-align: center;}
+
+    .figleft     {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top:
+                 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;}
+
+    .figright    {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;
+                 margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;}
+
+    .unindent {margin-top: .75em;
+       text-align: justify;
+       margin-bottom: .75em;
+        }
+    .right    {text-align: right;}
+    .poem      {margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;}
+    .poem2   {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;}
+    .sig    {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;}
+    .u        {text-decoration: underline;}
+    .linenum  {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */
+    .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em;
+               padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em;
+               float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em;
+               font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;}
+
+    .footnotes        {border: dashed 1px;}
+    .footnote         {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;}
+    .fnanchor         {vertical-align:baseline;
+        position: relative;
+        bottom: 0.33em;
+        font-size: .8em;
+        text-decoration: none;}
+    .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;}
+    // -->
+    /* XML end  ]]>*/
+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Margaret Montfort, by Laura E. Richards
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Margaret Montfort
+
+Author: Laura E. Richards
+
+Illustrator: Etheldred B. Barry
+
+Release Date: March 14, 2008 [EBook #24828]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARGARET MONTFORT ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<h1>MARGARET MONTFORT</h1>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 337px;">
+<img src="images/cover01.jpg" width="337" height="500" alt="Cover: MARGARET MONTFORT." title="Cover: MARGARET MONTFORT." />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><div class='bbox'>
+<h2><i>Books by Laura E. Richards.</i></h2>
+
+
+<p>"Mrs. Richards has made for herself a little niche apart in the literary
+world, from her delicate treatment of New England village life."&mdash;<i>Boston Post.</i></p>
+
+<div class='center'>&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</div>
+<h3>THE CAPTAIN JANUARY SERIES.</h3>
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>CAPTAIN JANUARY.</b> 16mo, cloth, 50 cents.</div>
+
+<p>A charming idyl of New England coast life, whose success has been
+very remarkable. One reads it, is thoroughly charmed by it, tells
+others, and so its fame has been heralded by its readers, until to-day
+it is selling by the thousands, constantly enlarging the circle of its
+delighted admirers.</p>
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>SAME.</b> <i>Illustrated Holiday Edition.</i> With thirty half-tone pictures
+from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25.<br /><br /></div>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>MELODY.</b> The Story of a Child. 16mo, 50 cents.</div>
+
+<p>"Had there never been a 'Captain January,' 'Melody' would easily
+take first place."&mdash;<i>Boston Times.</i></p>
+
+<p>"The quaintly pretty, touching, old-fashioned story is told with perfect
+grace; the few persons who belong to it are touched on with distinctness
+and with sympathy."&mdash;<i>Milwaukee Sentinel.</i><br /><br /></p>
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>SAME.</b> <i>Illustrated Holiday Edition.</i> With thirty half-tone pictures
+from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25.<br /><br /></div>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>MARIE.</b> 16mo, 50 cents.</div>
+
+<p>"Seldom has Mrs. Richards drawn a more irresistible picture, or
+framed one with more artistic literary adjustment."&mdash;<i>Boston Herald.</i></p>
+
+<p>"A perfect literary gem."&mdash;<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>NARCISSA</b>, and a companion story, <b>IN VERONA</b>. 16mo, cloth,
+50 cents.</div>
+
+<p>"Each is a simple, touching, sweet little story of rustic New England
+life, full of vivid pictures of interesting character, and refreshing for its
+unaffected genuineness and human feeling."&mdash;<i>Congregationalist.</i></p>
+
+<p>"They are the most charming stories ever written of American
+country life."&mdash;<i>New York World.</i><br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>JIM OF HELLAS; or, IN DURANCE VILE</b>, and a companion
+story, <b>BETHESDA POOL</b>. 16mo, 50 cents.<br /><br /></div>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>SOME SAY</b>, and a companion story, <b>NEIGHBOURS IN CYRUS</b>.
+16mo, 50 cents.<br /><br /></div>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>ROSIN THE BEAU.</b> 16mo, 50 cents. A sequel to "Melody."<br /><br /></div>
+
+<div class='center'>&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;<br /><br /></div>
+<div class='hang1'><b>ISLA HERON.</b> A charming prose idyl of quaint New England life.
+Small quarto, cloth, 75 cents.<br /><br /></div>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>NAUTILUS.</b> A very interesting story, with illustrations; uniquely
+bound, small quarto, cloth, 75 cents.<br /><br /></div>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>FIVE MINUTE STORIES.</b> A charming collection of short stories
+and clever poems for children. Small quarto, cloth, $1.25.<br /><br /></div>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>THREE MARGARETS.</b> One of the most clever stories for girls
+that the author has written. 16mo, cloth, $1.25.<br /><br /></div>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>MARGARET MONTFORT.</b> A new volume in the series of which
+"Three Margarets" was so successful as the initial volume. 16mo,
+cloth, handsome cover design, $1.25.<br /><br /></div>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>LOVE AND ROCKS.</b> A charming story of one of the pleasant
+islands that dot the rugged Maine coast, told in the author's most
+graceful manner. With etching frontispiece by Mercier. Tall
+16mo, unique cover design on linen, gilt top, $1.00.</div>
+
+<div class='center'>&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</div>
+<div class='center'><i>Dana Estes &amp; Company, Publishers, Boston.</i></div>
+</div>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 270px;"><a name="front" id="front"></a>
+<img src="images/gs01.png" width="270" height="400" alt="MARGARET MONTFORT." title="MARGARET MONTFORT." />
+<span class="caption">MARGARET MONTFORT.</span>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<h1>
+<span class="smcap">Margaret Montfort</span></h1>
+
+<h3>BY</h3>
+
+<h2>LAURA E. RICHARDS</h2>
+<div class='center'>
+AUTHOR Of "CAPTAIN JANUARY," "MELODY,"<br />
+"QUEEN HILDEGARDE," ETC.<br /><br /><br /><br />
+<br />
+Illustrated by<br />
+ETHELDRED B. BARRY<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 165px;">
+<img src="images/emblem.png" width="165" height="200" alt="Emblem" title="Emblem" />
+</div>
+<div class='center'><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<small>BOSTON</small><br />
+DANA ESTES &amp; COMPANY<br />
+<small>PUBLISHERS</small><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class='center'>
+<i><small>Copyright, 1898</small></i><br />
+<span class="smcap"><small>By Dana Estes &amp; Company</small></span><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<small><b>Colonial Press</b></small><br />
+<small>Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds &amp; Co.</small><br />
+<small>Boston, U.S.A.</small><br />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
+<tr><td align='left' colspan='2'><small>CHAPTER</small></td><td align='center'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>I.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Present and Absent</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>II.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Domestic</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>III.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Unexpected</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>IV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Trials of Margaret</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>V.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A New Type</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>VI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Lesson in Geography</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>VII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Dauntless Three</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>VIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The First Conquest</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>IX.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Newcomer</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>X.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"I Must Help Myself"</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Second Conquest</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_179">179</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Voice of Fernley</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Who Did It?</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_212">212</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XIV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Black Spirits and White</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Departure</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_249">249</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XVI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Peace</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_264">264</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="List of Illustrations">
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Margaret Montfort</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#front"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Afterwards she sallied out into the garden</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"'<span class="smcap">Did you bring a book to read to me, little girl</span>?'"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">The little girl had never stirred, but stood gazing up at the big man who held her hands</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Merton was teasing Chiquito</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_153">153</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"'<span class="smcap">Won't you come in</span>?'"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A lively ghost</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_247">247</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">The 'Flail of the Desert'</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_268">268</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>MARGARET MONTFORT.</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h3>PRESENT AND ABSENT.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"It shall be exactly as you please, my
+dear!" said Mr. Montfort. "I have no wish
+in the matter, save to fulfil yours. I had
+thought it would be pleasanter, perhaps, to
+have the rooms occupied; but your feeling is
+most natural, and there is no reason why you
+should not keep your present room."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, uncle!" said the girl whom
+he addressed as Margaret, and whom some of
+my readers may have met before. "It is not
+that I don't love the dear rooms, nor that it
+would not be a joy to be in them, for some
+reasons; but,&mdash;I think, just to go and sit
+there every day, alone or with you, and think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
+about her,&mdash;it seems as if that would be
+easier just now, dear uncle. You always
+understand, Uncle John!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort nodded, and puffed thoughtfully
+at his cigar. The two, uncle and niece,
+were sitting on the wide verandah of Fernley
+House; it was a soft, fair June evening, and
+the fireflies were flitting through the trees,
+and one or two late birds were chirping
+drowsily. There were only the two of them
+at Fernley now, for one day, some two months
+ago, the beloved Aunt Faith had fallen quietly
+asleep, and passed in sleep away from age and
+weakness and weariness. Margaret missed her
+sadly indeed; but there was no bitterness in
+her grieving, and she felt all the more need
+of keeping the house cheerful and bright for
+her uncle, who had lost the faithful and affectionate
+friend who had been for years like a
+second mother to him. They talked of her
+a great deal, of the beauty and helpfulness of
+the long life that had brought so much joy to
+others; just now Mr. Montfort had proposed
+that Margaret should occupy the White
+Rooms, which had been Mrs. Cheriton's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
+special apartments in the great rambling house;
+but he did not urge the matter, and they sat
+in silence for a time, feeling the soft beauty
+of the evening wrap them round like a garment
+of rest.</p>
+
+<p>"And what have you been doing all day,
+while I was in town?" asked Mr. Montfort
+presently. "You were not too lonely, May
+Margaret?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, not a bit too lonely; just enough
+to make it very good to have one's Uncle John
+come back. Let me see! After you went, I
+fed Chiquito, and stayed with him quite a
+while, talking and singing. He is so pitiful,
+poor old fellow! Then I took a walk, and
+dropped in to see how Mrs. Peyton was; she
+asked me to come in the morning, you know,
+when I could."</p>
+
+<p>"And how was she? Superb as ever?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just, Uncle John! Her dressing-jacket
+was blue this time, and there was a new kind
+of lace on her pillows."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! she has lace on her pillows, has she,
+my dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't I tell you, uncle? Pillows and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
+sheets are trimmed with real lace, most magnificent.
+To-day it was Valenciennes, really
+lovely Valenciennes, to match her cap and the
+frills on her jacket. And turquoise buttons
+and cap-pins; oh, she was a vision of beauty,
+I assure you. The pale pink roses on the
+table by her bed gave just the right touch to
+accentuate&mdash;if that is what I mean&mdash;all the
+blue. She is an artist in effects. She must
+have been very beautiful, Uncle John? She
+is beautiful now, of course, only so worn and
+fragile."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, she was extremely beautiful, in her
+way," said Mr. Montfort; "and she was always,
+as you say, an artist in effects. And
+in a good many other things," he murmured,
+half under his breath. "She was glad to see
+you, no doubt, my child?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes; she is always most cordial and
+kind. She made me tell her just how you
+were looking,&mdash;she always does that; and
+what you were doing."</p>
+
+<p>"Emily Peyton is a singular woman," said
+Mr. Montfort, thoughtfully. "She suffers, no
+doubt, and I am glad if you can be a comfort<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
+to her, Margaret; but be a little careful, my
+dear; be a little careful with Mrs. Peyton!
+H'm! ha! yes, my love! and what else did
+you say you had done to amuse yourself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Uncle John, do you think I have to
+be amusing myself all day? What a frivolous
+creature you must think me! I practised
+after I came home; and then I had lunch,
+and then I arranged the flowers, and then I
+made some buttonholes, and all the rest of
+the afternoon I sat under the big tulip-tree,
+reading 'Henry Esmond.' So you see, I
+have really had the most delightful day,
+Uncle John."</p>
+
+<p>"Especially the last part of it," said her
+uncle, smiling. "Esmond was rather more
+delightful than the buttonholes, eh, Meg?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, possibly!" Margaret admitted.
+"He is rather more delightful than almost
+anything else, isn't he? But not half so good
+as one's Uncle John, when he comes home in
+the gloaming, with his pockets full of bonbons
+and letters for his unworthy niece."</p>
+
+<p>"Flatterer!" said Mr. Montfort. "Does
+this come of visiting Mrs. Peyton? She used<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
+to be an adept in the art. But what do our
+two other Margarets say? Has Peggy set the
+prairies on fire yet? She will some day, you
+know."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think the mosquitoes would quite
+devour us if I brought the small lamp out
+here? I really must read you the letters,
+and it is too lovely to go in. Shall
+I try?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret brought the lamp, and, drawing
+a letter from her pocket, began to read:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Darling Margaret</span>:</p>
+
+<p>"I was so glad to get your letter. It was splendid,
+and I'm going to copy out a lot of the things
+you said, and pin them up by my looking-glass. My
+hair <i>will not</i> part straight, because I have the most
+frightful cowlick&mdash;</p></div>
+
+<p>"I don't believe you care for this part, do
+you, Uncle John? Poor little Peggy's difficulties
+are very funny sometimes."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I like it all, Meg, if you think
+Peggy would not mind my hearing it. It
+is all sweet and wholesome, I know; but
+leave out anything you think I should not
+hear."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, there isn't anything, really. I'll go
+on, if you like. Where was I? Oh!&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"The most frightful cowlick. The reason I tried
+was because you said my forehead was nice. I hope
+you will not think me very vain, Margaret. And
+you know, no one is wearing bangs any more, not
+even curly ones. So I have put it straight back
+now, and Pa likes it, and says I look like his
+mother. Margaret, will you try to get me the receipt
+for barley soup, the way Frances makes it?
+Mother isn't well, and I thought I would try if I
+could make some. I think, Margaret, that I am
+going to find something I can really do! I think
+it is cooking! What do you think of that? Our
+cook went away to her brother's wedding last week,
+and Mother was sick, and so I tried; and Pa (I
+tried saying Father, but he wouldn't let me!) said
+the things tasted good, and I had a knack for flavouring.
+That made me feel so happy, Margaret! Because
+I had just gone ahead till I thought a thing
+tasted right. I did not want to be bothering 'round
+with cook-books, and besides, ours was lost, for
+Betsy can't read, so there was no use for one. I
+made an apple-pudding yesterday, and Pa had two
+helps, and all the boys wanted three, but there
+wasn't enough, though I made it in the big meat-pie
+pan. Darling Margaret, do please write again
+very soon, and tell me about everything at dear,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
+darling Fernley. How is Chiquito, and does Uncle
+John ever speak of me? I miss him dreadfully, but
+I miss you most of all, darling Margaret,&mdash;I never
+get over missing you. I have a new dog, a setter, a
+perfect beauty. I asked Hugh to name him for me,
+and he named him Hamlet, because he was black
+and white, and Hugh thought he was going to be
+melancholy, but he grins and wiggles all over every
+time you look at him. I am teaching him to jump
+over a stick and he does it beautifully,&mdash;only the
+other day I stood too near the looking-glass, and he
+jumped into that, and smashed it, and frightened
+himself almost to death, poor puppy. Margaret, I
+read a little history every day,&mdash;not very much, but
+I think of you when I read it, and that makes it better.
+Pa says I am going to school next year; won't
+that be fun? Hugh is reading 'John Brent' to me in
+the evenings. Oh, how perfectly splendid it is! If
+I had a horse like Fulano, I would live with him all
+the time, and never leave him for five minutes. I
+want dreadfully to go out west and find Luggernel
+Alley. Hugh says perhaps we shall go some day,
+just him and me. That doesn't look right, Margaret,
+but I tried writing 'he and I' on a piece of paper,
+and it didn't look any better, so I guess I'll leave
+it as it is. Do you think I write better? I am trying
+to take a lot of pains. I try to think of all the
+things you tell me, dear Margaret. Mother thinks I
+am doing better, I know. Mother and I have real<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
+good talks together, like we never used to before,
+and she tells me what she used to do when she was
+a girl. I guess she had some pretty hard times. I
+guess I'm a pretty lucky girl, Margaret. Now I must
+go and get mother's supper. Give lots and lots of
+love to Uncle John, and some to Elizabeth and
+Frances, and say&mdash;I can't spell it, but the Spanish
+thing I learned&mdash;to poor Chiquito. But most love
+of all to your own, dear, darling self, Margaret, from</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>"<span class="smcap">Peggy</span>."</div></div>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort curled his moustaches in
+silence for some minutes, when the reading
+was over.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear little girl!" he said at last. "Good
+little Peggy! So she will learn to cook, will
+she? And she is getting hold of her mother!
+This is as it should be, Margaret, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes!" cried Margaret. "Oh, Uncle
+John, this letter makes me feel so happy
+about the child. At first, you know, she
+missed us all more than she should have,&mdash;really.
+And&mdash;and I think that, except
+for Hugh, perhaps they did not receive her
+in quite the way they might have, laughing
+at her a good deal, and sneering when she
+tried to make little improvements. I don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
+mean Aunt Susan or Uncle James, but the
+younger children, and George, who must be&mdash;whom
+I don't fancy, somehow. And she
+has been so brave, and has tried so hard to
+be patient and gentle. I think our Peggy
+will make a very fine woman, don't you,
+uncle?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do, my love. I have a great tenderness
+for Peggy. When she is at school, she must
+come here for her vacations, or some of them,
+at least."</p>
+
+<p>"And she owes this all to you!" cried Margaret,
+with shining eyes. "If she had never
+come here, Uncle John, I feel as if she might
+have grown up&mdash;well, pretty wild and
+rough, I am afraid. Oh, she ought to love
+you, and she does."</p>
+
+<p>"Humph!" said Mr. Montfort, dryly. "Yes,
+my dear, she does, and I am very glad of the
+dear little girl's love. But as for owing it all
+to me, why, Margaret, there may be two
+opinions about that. Well, and what says
+our Bird of Paradise?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rita? Oh, uncle, I don't know what you
+will think of this letter."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Don't read it, my dear, if you think it is
+meant for you alone. You can tell me if she
+is well and happy."</p>
+
+<p>"That is just it, Uncle John. She wants
+to go to Europe, and her father does not approve
+of her going just at present, and so&mdash;well,
+you shall hear part of it, at any rate.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Margaret, my Soul!"</p></div>
+
+<p>"That sounds natural!" said Mr. Montfort.
+"That is undoubtedly Rita, Margaret; go on!
+If you were her soul, my dear, my brother
+Richard would have a quieter life. Go on."</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Hardly a week has passed since last I wrote,
+yet to-night I fly again in spirit to you, since my
+burning heart must pour itself out to some other
+heart that can beat with mine. It is midnight. All
+day I have suffered, and now I fain would lose myself
+in sleep. But no! My eyes are propped open, my
+heart throbs to suffocation, I enrage, I tear myself&mdash;how
+should sleep come to such as I? O Marguerite,
+there in your cool retreat, with that best of men, my
+uncle,&mdash;yours also,&mdash;a Paladin, but one whose blood
+flows, or rests, quietly, as yours, can you feel for
+me, for your Rita, who burns, who dissolves in
+anguish? Listen! I desire to go to Europe. I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
+never seen it, as you know. Spain, the home of my
+ancestors, the cradle of the San Reals, is but a name
+to me. Now I have the opportunity. An escort
+offers itself, perfection, beyond earthly desire. You
+recall my friend, my Conchita, who divides my heart
+with you? She is married, my dear! She is the Se&ntilde;ora
+Bobadilla; her husband is noble, rich, devoted.
+Young, I do not say; brilliant, I do not pretend!
+Conchita is brought up in the Spanish way, my
+child; she weds a Spanish husband, as her parents
+provide him; it is the custom. Now! Marguerite,
+they offer to take me with them to Spain, to France,
+Italy, the world's end. It is the opportunity of a
+lifetime. I pine, I die for change. When you consider
+that I have been a year here, without once
+leaving home,&mdash;it is an eternity! I implore my father;
+I weep&mdash;torrents! I clasp his knees. I say, 'Kill
+me, but let me go!' No! he is adamant. He talks
+about the disturbed state of the country! Has it been
+ever undisturbed? I ask you, Marguerite! Briefly, I
+remain! The Bobadillas sail to-morrow, without me.
+I feel that this blow has crushed me, Marguerite. I
+feel my strength, never, as you know, robust, ebbing
+from me. Be prepared, Marguerite! I feel that in a
+few weeks I may be gone, indeed, but not to Europe;
+to another and a kinder world. The San Reals are a
+short-lived race; they suffer, they die! My father
+will realise one day that he might better have let his
+poor Rita have her way for once, when Rita lies<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
+shrouded in white, with lilies at her head and feet.
+Adios, Marguerite! farewell, heart of my heart! I
+have made my will,&mdash;my jewels are divided between
+you and Peggy. Poor Peggy! she also will mourn
+me. You will dry her tears, dearest! The lamp
+burns low&mdash;no more! For the last time, beloved
+Marguerite,</p>
+
+<div class='right'>
+<span style="margin-right: 8em;">"Your unhappy</span><br />
+<span style="margin-right: 4em;">"<span class="smcap">Margarita Maria Dolores de</span></span><br />
+<span class="smcap">San Real Montfort</span>."<br />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Isn't that really pretty alarming?" said
+Margaret, looking up. "Why&mdash;why, Uncle
+John! you are laughing! Don't laugh, please!
+Of course Rita is extravagant, but I am afraid
+she must really be very unhappy. Stay! Here
+is a postscript that I did not see before.
+Oh! Oh, uncle! Listen!</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Alma mia, one word! It is morning, in the world
+and in my heart. I go, Marguerite! My maid is
+packing my trunk at this instant. My father relents;
+he is an angel, the kindest, the most considerate
+of parents. We sail to-morrow for Gibraltar,&mdash;I
+shall be in Madrid in less than a month. Marguerite,
+I embrace you tenderly. Rejoice, Beloved, with
+your happy, your devoted</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>"<span class="smcap">Rita</span>."</div></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, my dear!" said Mr. Montfort,
+twirling his moustaches. "Poor Richard!
+Poor old Dick! Do you know, my dear, I
+think Dick may have had some experience of
+life."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<h3>DOMESTIC.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Life was pleasant enough for Margaret
+Montfort, in those days. The hours were
+still sad which she had been used to spend with
+Mrs. Cheriton, the beloved Aunt Faith; but
+there was such peace and blessedness in the
+thought of her, that Margaret would not have
+been without the gentle sorrow. She loved
+to sit in the White Rooms, sometimes with
+her uncle, but more often alone. In the
+morning, she generally walked for an hour in
+the garden with Mr. Montfort, tending the
+rose-bushes that were his special care and
+pride, listening to his wise and kindly talk,
+and learning, she always thought, something
+new each day. It is wonderful how much
+philosophy, poetry, even history, can be
+brought into the care of roses, if the right<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
+person has charge of them. At ten o'clock
+he generally went to town, and the rest of
+the morning was spent in practising, sewing,
+and studying; the hours flew by so fast,
+Margaret often suspected the clock of being
+something of a dishonest character. She was
+studying German, with the delightful result
+of reading "Der Trompeter von S&auml;kkingen"
+with her uncle in the evening, when it was
+not too beautiful out-of-doors. Then, in the
+afternoon, she could with a clear conscience
+take up some beloved romance, and be "just
+happy," as she called it, till Mr. Montfort
+returned in time for the walk or ride which
+was the crowning pleasure of the day. And
+so the days went by, in a golden peace which
+seemed too pleasant to last; and yet there
+seemed no reason why it should ever change.</p>
+
+<p>The morning after the reading of the
+letters, Margaret had been in the White
+Rooms, arranging flowers in the vases, and
+putting little loving touches to books and
+cushions, as a tidy girl loves to do, whether
+there is need or not. The windows were
+open, and the orioles were singing in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
+great elm-tree, and the laburnum was a bower
+of gold. It seemed really too perfect a morning
+to spend in the house; Margaret thought
+she would take her work out into the garden,
+not this sunny green parlour, but the great
+shady garden outside, where the box swept
+above her head, and the whole air smelt of it,
+and of moss and ferns and a hundred other
+cool things. She passed out of the rooms,
+and went along a passage, and as she went she
+heard voices that came through an open door
+at one side; clear, loud voices that she could
+not have escaped if she would.</p>
+
+<p>"These table-napkins is scandalous!" said
+Elizabeth. "I do wish Miss Margaret would
+get us some new ones."</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you ask her?" said Frances,
+the cook, bringing her flat-iron down with a
+thump. "The table-cloths is most worn out,
+too, this set. Ask her to see to some new
+ones. She's young, you see, and she don't
+think."</p>
+
+<p>"I've been giving her one with holes in it,
+right along this two weeks," said Elizabeth,
+"hoping she'd notice, but she don't seem to.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
+I thought it'd be best if she found out herself
+when things was needed."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" said Frances, "she's a sweet young
+lady, but she'll never make no housekeeper.
+She hasn't so much as looked inside one of
+my closets since Mis' Cheriton went."</p>
+
+<p>"You wouldn't be over and above pleased
+if she looked much into your closets, Frances;
+I know that!"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe I wouldn't, and maybe I would;
+but I'd like to have her know as there was no
+need of her looking. Don't tell me, Elizabeth!
+So long as she could walk on her feet,
+never a week but Mis' Cheriton would look
+in, and take a peep at every shelf. 'Just for
+the pleasure of seeing perfection, Frances,'
+she'd say, or something like that, her pretty
+way. But if there had been anything <i>but</i>
+perfection, I'd have heard from her pretty
+quick."</p>
+
+<p>"I think you're hard to please, I do!"
+Elizabeth answered. "I think Miss Margaret
+is as sweet a young lady as walks the earth;
+so thoughtful, and afraid of giving trouble,
+and neat and tidy as a pin. I tell you, Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
+Montfort's well off, and so's you and me,
+Frances. Why, we might have had one of
+them other young ladies, and then where'd
+we have been?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know!" said Frances, significantly.
+"Not here, that's one sure thing."</p>
+
+<p>"Or Mr. Montfort might have married.
+Fine man as he is, it's a wonder he never
+has."</p>
+
+<p>"H'm! he's no such fool! Not but what
+there's them would be glad enough&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But here Margaret, with burning cheeks,
+fled back to the White Rooms. It could not
+be helped; she had to hear what they were
+saying about herself; she must not hear what
+they said about her uncle.</p>
+
+<p>She sat down on the little stool that had
+always been her favourite seat, and leaned her
+cheek against the great white chair, that
+would always be empty now.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you were here, Aunt Faith!" she
+said, aloud. "I am very young, and very
+ignorant. I wish you were here to tell me
+what I should do."</p>
+
+<p>At first the women's talk seemed cruel to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
+her. They had been here so long, they knew
+the ways of the house so entirely, she had
+never dreamed of advising them, any more
+than of advising her uncle himself. Frances
+had been at Fernley twenty years,
+Elizabeth, twenty-five. What could she tell
+them? How could she possibly know about
+the things that had been their care and
+pride, year in and year out, since before
+she was born? It seemed very strange,
+very unkind, that they should expect her
+to step in, with her youth and ignorance,
+between them and their experience. So she
+thought, and thought, feeling hot, and sore,
+and angry. She had never had any care of
+housekeeping in her life. Old Katy, her
+nurse, who had taken her from her dying
+mother's arms, had always done all that;
+Margaret's part was to see that her own
+and her father's clothes were in perfect
+order, to keep the rooms dusted, and arrange
+the books when she was allowed to
+touch them, which was not often. As to
+table-cloths, she had never thought of them
+in her life; Katy saw to all that; and if she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
+had attempted to suggest ordering dinner,
+Katy would have been apt to send her to
+bed, Margaret thought. Poor, dear old
+Katy! She was dead now, and Aunt Faith
+was dead, and there was no one to stand
+between Margaret and the cares that she
+knew nothing about. Of course, Uncle John
+must never know anything of it; he expected
+perfection, and had always had it; he did not
+care how it was brought about. Surely these
+women were unkind and unreasonable! What
+good could she possibly do by interfering?
+They would not endure it if she really did
+interfere.</p>
+
+<p>The white linen cover of the chair was
+smooth and cool; Margaret pressed her cheek
+against it, and a sense of comfort stole over
+her insensibly. She began to turn the matter
+over, and try to look at the other side of it.
+There always was another side; her father had
+taught her that when she was a little child.
+Well, after all, had they really said anything
+unkind? Frances's words came back to her,
+"I'd like to have her know as there was no
+need of her looking."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>After all, was not that perfectly natural?
+Did not every one like to have good work
+seen and recognised? Even Uncle John always
+called her to see when he had made a
+particularly neat graft, and expected her
+praise and wonderment, and was pleased
+with it. And why did she show him her
+buttonholes this morning, except that she
+knew they were good buttonholes, and wanted
+the kindly word that she was sure of getting?
+Was the trouble with her, after all? Had
+she failed to remember that Elizabeth and
+Frances were human beings, not machines,
+and that her uncle being what he was, she
+herself was the only person to give them
+a word of deserved praise or counsel?</p>
+
+<p>"My dear," she said to herself, "I don't
+want to be hasty in my judgments, but it
+rather looks as if you had been a careless,
+selfish goose, doesn't it now?"</p>
+
+<p>She went up to her own room,&mdash;the garden
+seemed too much of an indulgence just now,&mdash;and
+sat down quietly with her work. Sewing
+was always soothing to Margaret. She
+was not fond of it; she would have read<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
+twelve hours out of the twenty-four, if she
+had been allowed to choose her own way
+of life, and have walked or ridden four,
+and slept six, and would never have thought
+of any time being necessary for eating, till
+she felt hungry. But she had been taught
+to sew well and quickly, and she had always
+made her own underclothes, and felled all the
+seams, and a good many girls will know how
+much that means. She sat sewing and thinking,
+planning all kinds of reforms and experiments,
+when she heard Elizabeth stirring in
+the room next hers. It was the linen room,
+and Elizabeth was putting away clean clothes,
+Margaret knew by the clank of the drawer-handles.
+Now! this was the moment to
+begin. She laid down her work, and went
+into the linen room.</p>
+
+<p>"May I see you put them away, Elizabeth?"
+she asked. "I always like to see
+your piles of towels,&mdash;they are so even and
+smooth."</p>
+
+<p>Elizabeth looked up, and her face brightened.
+"And welcome, Miss Margaret!" she
+said. "I'll be pleased enough. 'Tis dreadful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
+lonesome, and Mis' Cheriton gone. Not that
+she could come up here, I don't mean; but I
+always knew she was there, and she was like
+a mother to me, and I could always go to her.
+Yes, miss, the towels do look nice, and I love
+to keep 'em so."</p>
+
+<p>"They are beautiful!" said Margaret, with
+genuine enthusiasm, for the shelves and
+drawers were like those she had read about
+in "Soll und Haben." She had loved them
+in the book, but never thought of looking at
+them in reality. "Oh, what lovely damask
+this is, Elizabeth! It shines like silver! I
+never saw such damask as this."</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis something rare, miss, I do be told,"
+Elizabeth replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Montfort brought them towels back
+from Germany, three years ago, because he
+thought they would please his aunt, and they
+did, dear lady. Hand spun and wove they
+are, she said; and there's only one place
+where they make this weave and this pattern.
+See, Miss Margaret! 'Tis roses, coming out
+of a little loaf of bread like; and there was
+a story about it, some saint, but I don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
+rightly remember what. There! I have
+tried to remember that story, ever since
+Mis' Cheriton went, but it seems I can't."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, oh, it must be Saint Elizabeth of
+Hungary!" cried Margaret, bending in delight
+over the smooth silvery stuff. "Why,
+how perfectly enchanting!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, miss, that's it!" cried Elizabeth,
+beaming with pleasure. "Saint Elizabeth it
+was; and maybe you'll know the story, Miss
+Margaret. I never like to ask Mr. Montfort,
+of course, but I should love dearly to hear it."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret asked nothing better. She told
+the lovely story as well as she knew how, and
+before she had finished, Elizabeth's eyes as
+well as her own were full of tears. One of
+Elizabeth's tears even fell on the towel, and
+she cried out in horror, and wiped it away as if
+it had been a poison-spot, and laid the sacred
+damask back in its place. Margaret felt the
+moment given to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Elizabeth," she said, "I want to ask you
+something. I want to ask if you will help
+me a little. Will you try?"</p>
+
+<p>Elizabeth, surprised and pleased, vowed she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
+would do all she could for Miss Margaret, in
+any way in her power.</p>
+
+<p>"You can do a great deal!" said Margaret.
+"I&mdash;I am very young, Elizabeth, and&mdash;and
+you and Frances have been here a long time,
+and of course you know all about the work of
+the house, and I know nothing at all. And
+yet&mdash;and yet, I ought to be helping, it seems
+to me, and ought to be taking my place, and
+my share in the work. Do you see what I
+mean, Elizabeth? You and Frances could help
+me, oh, so much, if you would; and perhaps
+some day I might be able to help you too,&mdash;I
+don't know just how, yet, but it might come."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, miss, we will be so thankful!" cried
+Elizabeth. "Oh, miss, Frances and me, we'd
+been wishing and longing to have you speak
+up and take your place, if I may say so. We
+didn't like to put ourselves forward, and we've
+no orders from Mr. Montfort, except to do
+whatever you said; and so, when you'll say
+anything, Miss Margaret, we feel ever and
+ever so much better, Frances and me. And
+I'll be pleased to go all over the work with
+you, Miss Margaret, this very day, and show<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>
+you just how I've always done it, and I think
+Mr. Montfort has been satisfied, and Mis'
+Cheriton was, Lord rest her! and you so
+young, and with so much else to do, as I said
+time and again to Frances, reading with Mr.
+Montfort and riding with him, and taking
+such an interest in the roses, as his own
+daughter couldn't make him happier if he
+had one. And of course it's nature that you
+haven't had no time yet to take much notice,
+but it makes it twice as easy for servants,
+Miss Margaret, where an interest is took; and
+I'm thankful to you, I'm sure, and so will
+Frances be, and you'll find her closets a
+pleasure to look at."</p>
+
+<p>Elizabeth stopped to draw breath, and
+Margaret looked at her in wonder and self-reproach.
+The grave, staid woman was all
+alight with pleasure and the prospect of sympathy.
+It came over Margaret that, comfortable
+and homelike as their life at Fernley was,
+it was not perhaps exactly thrilling.</p>
+
+<p>"We will be friends, Elizabeth!" she said,
+simply; and the two shook hands, with an
+earnestness that meant something. "And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
+you are to come to me, please, whenever there
+is anything that needs attention, Elizabeth,
+and I will do my best, and ask your advice
+about anything I don't understand. Don't&mdash;don't
+we&mdash;need some new napkins, Elizabeth?"</p>
+
+<p>Elizabeth was eloquent as to their need of
+napkins. In a couple of washes more, there
+would be nothing but holes left to wipe their
+hands on.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll order some this very day," said
+Margaret. "Or better still, I'll go to town
+with Uncle John to-morrow, and get them myself.
+And now, Elizabeth, I am going down
+to see Frances, and&mdash;and perhaps&mdash;do you
+think she would like it if I ordered dinner,
+Elizabeth?"</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Margaret, she'd be pleased to death!"
+cried Elizabeth.</p>
+
+<p>Returning from the kitchen an hour later, a
+sadder and a wiser girl (for Frances's perfection
+seemed unattainable by ordinary mortals,
+even with the aid of Sapolio), Margaret heard
+the sound of wheels on the gravel outside.
+Glancing through the window of the long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
+passage through which she was going, she
+saw, to her amazement, a carriage standing at
+the door, a carriage that had evidently come
+some way, for it was covered with dust. The
+driver was taking down a couple of trunks,
+and beside the carriage stood a lady, with her
+purse in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall give you two dollars!" the lady
+was saying, in a thin, sharp voice. "I consider
+that ample for the distance you have
+come."</p>
+
+<p>"I told the gentleman it would be three
+dollars, mum!" said the man, civilly, touching
+his hat. "Three dollars is the regular
+price, with one trunk, and these trunks is
+mortal heavy. The gentleman said as it
+would be all right, mum."</p>
+
+<p>"The gentleman knew nothing whatever
+about it," said the sharp-voiced lady. "I
+shall give you two dollars, and not a penny
+more. I have always paid two dollars to
+drive to Fernley, and I have no idea of being
+cheated now, I assure you."</p>
+
+<p>The man was still grumbling, when Elizabeth
+opened the door. She looked grave,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
+but greeted the newcomer with a respectful
+curtsey.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how do you do, Elizabeth!" said the
+strange lady. "How is Mr. Montfort?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Montfort is very well, thank you,
+mum!" said Elizabeth. "He is in town,
+mum. He'll hardly be back before evening.
+Would you like to see Miss Montfort?"</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Montfort? Oh, the little girl who is
+staying here. You needn't trouble to call her
+just now, Elizabeth. Send for Willis, will
+you, and have him take my trunks in; I have
+come to stay. He may put them in the
+White Rooms."</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I beg pardon, mum!" faltered Elizabeth.
+"In the Blue Room, did you say?
+The Blue Room has been new done over,
+and that is where we have put visitors
+lately."</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing of the sort!" said the lady,
+sharply. "I said the White Rooms; Mrs.
+Cheriton's rooms."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret stayed to hear no more. A
+stranger in the White Rooms! Aunt Faith's
+rooms, which she could not bear to occupy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
+herself, though her uncle had urged her to do
+so? And such a stranger as this, with such
+a voice,&mdash;and such a nose! Never! never,
+while there was breath to pant with, while
+there were feet to run with!</p>
+
+<p>Never but once in her life had Margaret
+Montfort run as she did now; that once was
+when she flew up the secret staircase to save
+her cousin from burning. In a flash she was
+in her own room&mdash;what had been her room!&mdash;gathering
+things frantically in her arms,
+snatching books from the table, dresses from
+the closets. Down the back stairs she ran
+like a whirlwind; down, and up, and down
+again. Had the girl gone suddenly mad?</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes later, when Elizabeth, her eyes
+smarting with angry tears, opened the door
+of the White Parlour,&mdash;Willis the choreman
+behind her, grunting and growling, with a
+trunk on his shoulder,&mdash;a young lady was sitting
+in the great white armchair, quietly reading.
+The young lady's cheeks were crimson, her
+eyes were sparkling, and her breath came in
+short, quick gasps, which showed that what she
+was reading must be very exciting; what made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
+it the more curious was that the book was
+upside down. But she was entirely composed,
+and evidently surprised at the sudden
+intrusion.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Elizabeth?" asked Margaret,
+quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I&mdash;I beg your pardon, Miss Montfort!"
+said Elizabeth, whose eyes were beginning
+to brighten, too, and her lips to twitch
+dangerously. "I&mdash;I didn't know, miss, as
+you had&mdash;moved in yet. Here is Miss
+Sophronia Montfort, miss, as perhaps you
+would like to see her."</p>
+
+<p>The strange lady was already glaring over
+Willis's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"What is this?" she said. "What does
+this mean? These rooms are not occupied; I
+was positively told they were not occupied.
+There must be some mistake. Willis&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, there is a mistake!" said Margaret,
+coming forward, and holding out her hand
+with a smile. "Is this Cousin Sophronia? I
+am Margaret, Cousin Sophronia. Uncle John
+asked me to take these rooms, and I&mdash;I feel
+quite at home in them already. Would you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
+like the Pink, or the Blue Room? They are
+both ready, aren't they, Elizabeth?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Miss Montfort," said Elizabeth,
+"quite ready."</p>
+
+<p>The strange lady's eyes glared wider and
+wider; her chest heaved; she seemed about to
+break out in a torrent of angry speech; but
+making a visible effort, she controlled herself.
+"How do you do, my&mdash;my dear?" she
+said, taking Margaret's offered hand, and
+giving it a little pinch with the tips of her
+fingers. "I&mdash;a little misunderstanding, no
+doubt. Willis,&mdash;the Blue Room,&mdash;for the
+present!" But Willis was suffering from a
+sudden and violent fit of coughing, which
+shook his whole frame, and made it necessary
+for him to rest his trunk against the wall and
+lean against it, with his head down; so that
+it was fully five minutes before Miss Sophronia
+Montfort's trunk got up to the Blue Room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE UNEXPECTED.</h3>
+
+
+<p>When Mr. Montfort came home that afternoon,
+Margaret was waiting for him, as usual,
+on the verandah; as usual, for she was determined
+to keep the worry out of her face and
+out of her voice. But as her uncle came up
+the steps, with his cheery "Well! and how's
+my lassie?" he was confronted by Miss
+Sophronia Montfort, who, passing Margaret
+swiftly, advanced with both hands held out,
+and a beaming smile.</p>
+
+<p>"My dearest John! my poor, dear fellow!
+Confess that I have surprised you. Confess
+it, John!&mdash;you did not expect to see me."</p>
+
+<p>"Sophronia!" exclaimed Mr. Montfort. He
+stood still and contemplated the visitor for a
+moment; then he shook hands with her,
+rather formally.</p>
+
+<p>"You certainly have surprised me, Sophro<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>nia!"
+he said, kindly enough. "What wind
+has blown you in this direction?"</p>
+
+<p>"The wind of affection, my dear boy!"
+cried the strange lady. "I have been planning
+it, ever since I heard of Aunt Faith's death.
+Dearest Aunt Faith! What a loss, John! what
+an irreparable loss! I shall never recover from
+the shock. The moment I heard of it, I said&mdash;William
+would tell you, if he were here&mdash;I
+said, 'I must go to John! He will need me
+now,' I said, 'and go I must.' I explained to
+William that I felt it as a solemn duty. He
+took it beautifully, poor, dear fellow. I don't
+know how they will get on without me, for
+his wife is sadly heedless, John, and the children
+need a steady hand, they do indeed. But
+he did not try to keep me back; indeed, he
+urged me to come, which showed such a
+beautiful spirit, didn't it? And so here I am,
+my dearest boy, come to take Aunt Faith's
+place, and make a home for you, my poor
+lonely cousin. You know I have always
+loved you as a sister, John, and you must consider
+me a real sister now; sister Sophronia,
+dear John!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The lady paused for breath, and gazed
+tenderly on Mr. Montfort; that gentleman
+returned her gaze with one of steady gravity.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be glad to have a visit from you,
+Sophronia," he said. "I have no doubt we
+can make you comfortable for a few weeks;
+I can hardly suppose that William can spare
+you longer than that. We have no children
+here to need your&mdash;your ministrations."</p>
+
+<p>The lady shook her head playfully; she had
+thin curls of a grayish yellow, which almost
+rattled when she shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Always self-denying, John!" she cried.
+"The same unselfish, good, sterling fellow!
+But I understand, my friend; I know how it
+really is, and I shall do my duty, and stand
+by you; depend upon that! And this dear
+child, too!" she added, turning to Margaret
+and taking her hand affectionately. "So
+young, so unexperienced! and to be attempting
+the care of a house like Fernley! How
+could you think of it, John? But we will
+make that all right. I shall be&mdash;we can
+hardly say a mother, can we, my dear? but
+an elder sister, to you, too. Oh, we shall be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
+very happy, I am sure. The drawing-room
+carpets are looking very shabby, John. I am
+ready to go over the dear old house from top
+to bottom, and make it over new; of course
+you did not feel like making any changes
+while dear Aunt Faith was with you. Such a
+mistake, I always say, to shake the aged out
+of their ruts. Yes! so wise of you! and who
+is in the neighbourhood, John?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hardly know," said Mr. Montfort. "You
+know I live rather a hermit life, Sophronia.
+Mrs. Peyton is here; I believe you are fond of
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"Sweet Emily Peyton!" exclaimed Miss
+Sophronia, with enthusiasm. "Is that exquisite
+creature here? That will indeed be a
+pleasure. Ah, John, she should never have
+been Emily Peyton; you know my opinion on
+that point." She nodded her head several
+times, with an air of mysterious understanding.
+"And widowed, after all, and once
+more alone in the world. How does she bear
+her sorrow, John?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have not seen her," said Mr. Montfort,
+rather shortly. "From what I hear, she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
+seems to bear it with considerable fortitude.
+Perhaps you forget that it is fully ten years
+since Mr. Peyton died, Sophronia. But Margaret
+here can tell you more than I can about
+Mrs. Peyton; she goes to see her now and
+then. Mrs. Peyton is something of an invalid,
+and likes to have her come."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed!" cried Miss Sophronia. "I should
+hardly have fancied&mdash;Emily Peyton was always
+so mature in her thought, so critical in
+her observations; but no doubt she is lonely,
+and glad of any society; and sweet Margaret
+is most sympathetic, I am sure. Sympathy,
+my dear John! how could we live without
+it, my poor dear fellow?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to walk," said Mr. Montfort,
+abruptly. "Margaret, will you come? Sophronia,
+you will be glad of a chance to rest;
+you must be tired after your long drive."</p>
+
+<p>"This once, yes, dearest John!" said the
+lady. "This once you must go without me.
+I am tired,&mdash;so thoughtful of you to notice
+it! There is no sofa in the Blue Room, but I
+shall do very well there for a few days.
+Don't have me on your mind in the least,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
+my dear cousin; I shall soon be absolutely at
+home. Enjoy your walk, both of you! After
+to-day, I shall always be with you, I hope. I
+ordered tea an hour earlier, as I dined early,
+and I knew you would not mind. Good-bye!"
+and the lady nodded, and smiled herself into
+the house.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret went for her hat in silence, and
+in silence she and her uncle walked along.
+Mr. Montfort was smoking, not in his usual
+calm and dignified manner, but in short,
+fierce puffs; smoking fast and violently. Margaret
+did not dare to speak, and they walked
+a mile or more without exchanging a word.</p>
+
+<p>"Margaret," said her uncle, at last.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Uncle John."</p>
+
+<p>"Not in the least, my dear!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Uncle John."</p>
+
+<p>They walked another mile, and presently
+stopped at the top of a breezy hill, to draw
+breath, and look about them. The sun was
+going down in a cheerful blaze; the whole
+country smiled, and was glad of its own
+beauty. Mr. Montfort gazed about him, and
+heaved a long sigh of content.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Pretty! Pretty country!" he said.
+"Spreading fields, quiet woods, sky over
+all, undisturbed. Yes! You are very silent,
+my dear. Have I been silent, too, or have
+I been talking?"</p>
+
+<p>"What a curious question!" thought Margaret.</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;you have not said much, Uncle
+John," she replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my love, that may be because there
+isn't much to say. Some situations, Margaret,
+are best met in silence."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret nodded. She knew her uncle's
+ways pretty well by this time.</p>
+
+<p>"And yet," continued Mr. Montfort, "it
+may be well to have just a word of understanding
+with you, my dear child. Sophronia
+Montfort is my own cousin, my first cousin."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Uncle John," said Margaret, as he
+seemed to pause for a reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Ri tumpty,&mdash;that is to say, there is no
+gainsaying that fact,&mdash;my own cousin. And
+by natural consequence, Margaret, the own
+cousin of your father, and by further consequence,
+your first cousin once removed. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
+is&mdash;a&mdash;it is many years since she has been
+at Fernley; we must try to make her comfortable
+during the time&mdash;the short time&mdash;she
+is with us. You have put her in the Blue
+Room; that is comfortable, is it, and properly
+fitted up,&mdash;all the modern inconveniences
+and abominations, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort's own room had a bare floor,
+a bed, a table, a chest of drawers, and a
+pitcher and basin and bath that might have
+been made for Cormoran or Blunderbore,
+whichever was the bigger.</p>
+
+<p>"Everything, I think, uncle," faltered Margaret,
+turning crimson, and beginning to
+tremble. "Oh! Oh, Uncle John! I have
+something to tell you. I&mdash;I don't know
+how to tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't try, then, my dear," said Uncle
+John, in his own kind way. "Perhaps it
+isn't necessary."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, it is necessary. I shall have no
+peace till I do, uncle,&mdash;you remember you
+asked me to take the White Rooms; you
+surely asked me, didn't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Surely, my child," said Mr. Montfort,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
+wondering much. "But I wished you to do
+as you pleased, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes! Oh, uncle, that was it! When
+Cousin Sophronia came, she&mdash;she told Elizabeth
+to have her trunks carried into the
+White Rooms."</p>
+
+<p>"So!" said Mr. Montfort.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, uncle! I was in the passage, and
+heard her give the order, and I&mdash;I could
+not bear it, Uncle John, I could not, indeed.
+I flew up-stairs, and brought down some of
+my things,&mdash;all I could carry in two trips,&mdash;and,
+when they came in with the trunk,
+I&mdash;I was sitting there, and&mdash;and wondering
+why they came into my room. Uncle John,
+do you see? Was it very, very wicked?"</p>
+
+<p>For all reply, Mr. Montfort went off into a
+fit of laughter so prolonged and violent, that
+Margaret, who at first tried to join in timidly,
+became alarmed for him. "Ho! ho! ho!"
+he laughed, throwing his head back, and
+expanding his broad chest. "Ha! ha! ha!
+so you&mdash;ho! ho!&mdash;you got in first, little
+miss! Why wasn't I there to see? Oh, why
+wasn't I there? I would give a farm, a good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
+farm, to have seen Sophronia's face. Tell me
+about it again, Margaret. Tell me slowly, so
+that I may see it all. You have a knack of
+description, I know; show me the scene."</p>
+
+<p>Slowly, half frightened, and wholly relieved,
+Margaret went through the matter from beginning
+to end, making as light as she could
+of her own triumph, of which she really felt
+ashamed, pleased as she was to have achieved
+it. When she had finished, her uncle sat
+down under a tree, and laughed again; not
+so violently, but with a hearty enjoyment
+that took in every detail.</p>
+
+<p>"And Willis had a fit of coughing!" he
+exclaimed, when Margaret had come to the
+last word. "Poor Willis! Willis must see a
+doctor at once. Consumptive, no doubt; and
+concealed under such a deceptive appearance
+of brawn! Ho! Margaret, my dear, I feel
+better, much better. You have cleared the
+air for me, my child."</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;are not angry, then, Uncle John?
+You don't think I ought to have put Cousin
+Sophronia in the rooms?"</p>
+
+<p>"My love, they should have been burned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
+to the ground sooner. There was only one
+person in the world whom your Aunt Faith
+could not endure, and that person was Sophronia
+Montfort. You did perfectly right,
+Margaret; more right than you knew. If she
+had got into the White Rooms, I should have
+been under the necessity of taking her forcibly
+out of them (nothing short of force could have
+done it), and that would have created an
+unpleasantness, you see. Yes! Thank you, my
+dear little girl! I feel quite myself again.
+We shall worry through, somehow; but remember,
+Margaret, that you are the mistress
+of Fernley, and, if you have any trouble,
+come to me. And now, my love, we must
+go home to tea!"</p>
+
+<p>When the gong rang for tea, Margaret and
+her uncle entered the dining-room together&mdash;to
+find Cousin Sophronia already seated at
+the head of the table, rattling the teacups
+with intention.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my dears!" she cried, in sprightly
+tones. "You walked further than you intended,
+did you not? I should not have
+sat down without you, but I was simply<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
+famished. I always think punctuality such
+an important factor in the economy of life.
+It is high time you had some steady head to
+look after you, John!" and she shook her
+head in affectionate playfulness. "Sit down,
+John!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort did not sit down.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry you were hungry, Sophronia,"
+he said, kindly. "I cannot think of letting
+you wait to pour tea for me, my dear cousin.
+Margaret does that always; you are to sit
+here by me, and begin at once upon your
+own supper. Allow me!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret hardly knew how it was done.
+There was a bow, a courtly wave of the
+hand, a movement of chairs; and her own
+place was vacant, and Cousin Sophronia was
+sitting at the side place, very red in the face,
+her eyes snapping out little green lights; and
+Uncle John was bending over her with cordial
+kindness, pushing her chair in a little
+further, and lifting the train of her dress
+out of the way. With downcast eyes, Margaret
+took her place, and poured the tea in
+silence. She felt as if a weight were on her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
+eyelids; she could not lift her eyes; she
+could not speak, and yet she must. She
+shook herself, and made a great effort.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you like your tea, Cousin Sophronia?"
+she asked, in a voice that tried
+to sound cheerful and unconcerned. And,
+when she had spoken, she managed, with
+another effort, to look up. Cousin Sophronia
+was smiling and composed, and met her timid
+glance with an affectionate nod.</p>
+
+<p>"Weak, my dear, if you please,&mdash;weak,
+with cream and sugar. Yes,&mdash;that will be excellent,
+I have no doubt. I have to be a little
+exact about my tea, my nerves being what
+they are. The nights I have, if my tea is not
+precisely the right shade! It seems absurd,
+but life is made up of little things, my dear
+John. And very right and wise, to have the
+dear child learn to do these things, and practise
+on us, even if it is a little trying at
+first. Is that the beef tea, Elizabeth? Thank
+you. I told Frances to make me some beef
+tea, John; I knew hers could be depended
+on, though I suppose she has grown rusty in
+a good many ways, with this hermit life of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
+yours,&mdash;so bad for a cook, I always think.
+Yes, this is fair, but not quite what I should
+have expected from Frances. I must see her
+in the morning, and give her a good rousing;
+we all need a good rousing once in awhile.
+Frances and I have always been the best of
+friends; we shall get on perfectly, I have no
+doubt. Ah! The old silver looks well, John.
+Where did that sugar-bowl come from? Is it
+Montfort, or Paston? Paston, I fancy! The
+Montfort silver is heavier, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Possibly!" said Mr. Montfort. "That
+sugar-bowl is neither one nor the other, however.
+It is Dutch."</p>
+
+<p>"Really! Vanderdecken? I didn't know
+you had any Vanderdecken silver, John.
+Grandmother Vanderdecken left all her silver,
+I thought, to our branch. Such a mistake,
+I always think, to scatter family silver.
+Let each branch have <i>all</i> that belongs to it, I
+always say. I feel very strongly about it."</p>
+
+<p>"This is not Vanderdecken," said Mr.
+Montfort, patiently. "I bought it in Amsterdam."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! in Amsterdam! indeed! boughten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
+silver never appeals to me. And speaking of
+silver, I have wished for years that I could
+find a trace of the old Vanderdecken porringer.
+You remember it, surely, John, at
+Grandmother Vanderdecken's? She had her
+plum porridge in it every night, and I used to
+play with the cow on the cover. I have
+tried and tried to trace it, but have never
+succeeded. Stolen, I fear, by some dishonest
+servant."</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon, Cousin Sophronia,"
+said Margaret, blushing. "I have the old
+Vanderdecken porringer, if it is the one with
+the cow on the cover."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>You!</i>" cried Miss Sophronia, opening her
+eyes to their fullest extent.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Margaret replied. "There it is, on
+the sideboard. I have eaten bread and milk
+out of it ever since I can remember, and I
+still use it at breakfast."</p>
+
+<p>Speechless for the moment, Miss Sophronia
+made an imperious sign to Elizabeth, who
+brought her the beautiful old dish, not without
+a glance of conscious pride at the wonderful
+blue polish on it. There was no piece of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
+plate in the house that took so perfect a
+polish as this.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sophronia turned it over and over.
+Her eyes were very green. "Margaret
+Bleecker. On the occasion of her christening,
+from her godmother," she read. "Yes,
+this is certainly the Vanderdecken porringer.
+And may I ask how you came by it, my
+dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, Cousin Sophronia. Aunt Eliza
+Vanderdecken gave it to me at my christening;
+she was my godmother, you see."</p>
+
+<p>"A most extraordinary thing for Eliza
+Vanderdecken to do!" cried the lady. "Eliza
+Vanderdecken knew, of course, that she was
+meant to have but a life-interest in the personal
+property, as she never married. I cannot
+understand Eliza's doing such a thing. I
+have longed all my life for this porringer;
+I have associations with it, you see, lifelong
+associations. I remember my Grandmother
+Vanderdecken distinctly; you never saw her,
+of course, as she died years before you were
+born."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Margaret, gently, but not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
+without intention. "And I, Cousin Sophronia,
+associate it with Aunt Eliza, whom I
+remember distinctly, and who was my godmother,
+and very kind to me. I value this
+porringer more than almost any of my possessions.
+Thank you, Elizabeth; if you would
+put it back, please. Will you have some more
+tea, Cousin Sophronia?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let me give you another bit of chicken,
+Sophronia!" said Mr. Montfort, heartily.
+"I think we have had enough about porringers,
+haven't we? There are six or seven, I
+believe, in the strong closet. One of 'em was
+Adam's, I've always been told. A little gravy,
+Sophronia? You're eating nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"I have no appetite!" said Miss Sophronia.
+"You know I only eat to support life, John.
+A side-bone, then, if you insist, and a tiny bit
+of the breast. William always says, 'You
+must live,' and I suppose I must. Cranberry
+sauce! Thank you! I am really too exhausted
+to enjoy a morsel, but I will make an effort.
+We <i>can</i> do what we <i>try</i> to do, I always say.
+Thank you, dearest John. I dare say I shall
+be better to-morrow."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE TRIALS OF MARGARET.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Margaret woke early the next morning,
+and lay wondering where she was. Her eyes
+were used to opening on rose-flowered walls
+and mahogany bed-posts. Here all was soft
+and white, no spot of colour anywhere. She
+came to herself with a start, and yesterday
+with its happenings came back to her. She
+sighed, and a little worried wrinkle came on
+her smooth forehead. What a change, in a few
+short hours! Was all their peaceful, dreamy
+life over, the life that suited both her and her
+uncle so absolutely? They had been so happy!
+Was it over indeed? It seemed at first as if
+she could not get up and face the cares of the
+day, under the new conditions. Indolent by
+nature, Margaret dreaded change, and above
+change unpleasantness; it seemed as if she
+might have plenty of both. She rose and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
+dressed in a despondent mood; but when her
+hair was pinned up and her collar straight,
+she took herself to task. "I give you three
+minutes!" she said, looking at herself in the
+glass. "If you can't look cheerful by that
+time, you can go to bed again."</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 270px;">
+<img src="images/gs02.png" width="270" height="400" alt="&quot;AFTERWARDS SHE SALLIED OUT INTO THE GARDEN.&quot;" title="&quot;AFTERWARDS SHE SALLIED OUT INTO THE GARDEN.&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;AFTERWARDS SHE SALLIED OUT INTO THE GARDEN.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The threat, or something else, carried the
+point, for it was an entirely cheerful young
+woman who came into the library, with a rose
+for Uncle John's buttonhole. Miss Montfort
+was already there, and responded with sad
+sprightliness to Margaret's greeting. "Thank
+you, my dear! I was just telling your uncle,
+it is a mere matter of form to ask if I have
+slept. I seldom sleep, especially if I am
+up-stairs. The servants over my head, it may
+be,&mdash;or if not that, I have the feeling of insecurity,&mdash;stairs,
+you understand, in case of
+fire. Dear William had my rooms fitted up
+on the ground floor. 'Sophronia,' he said,
+'you must sleep!' I suppose it is necessary,
+but I am so used to lying awake. Such
+frightful noises in the walls, my dear John!
+Rats, I suppose? Has the wainscoting been
+examined lately, in the room you have put<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
+me in? Not that it matters in the least; I
+am the person in the world most easily suited,
+I suppose. A cot, a corner, a crust, as William
+says, and I am satisfied."</p>
+
+<p>It took several crusts to satisfy Miss
+Sophronia at breakfast. Afterwards she sallied
+out into the garden, where Mr. Montfort
+was enjoying his morning cigar, with Margaret
+at his side. "You dear child," said the
+sprightly lady, "run now and amuse yourself,
+or attend to any little duties you may have
+set yourself. So important, I always say, for
+the young to be regular in everything they
+do. I am sure you agree with me, dearest
+John. I will be your uncle's companion, my
+love; that is my duty and my pleasure now.
+I must see your roses, John! No one in the
+world loves roses as I do. What do you use
+for them? I have a recipe for an infallible
+wash; I must give it to you, I must indeed."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret went into the house; there was
+no place for her, for the lady was leaning on
+Mr. Montfort's arm, chattering gaily in his
+ear. Margaret was conscious of an unpleasant
+sensation which was entirely new to her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
+She had always been with people she liked.
+Rita had often distressed her, but still she
+was most lovable, with all her faults. Cousin
+Sophronia was&mdash;not&mdash;lovable, the girl said
+to herself.</p>
+
+<p>It was a relief to visit the kitchen, and
+find Frances beaming over her bread-pan.
+The good woman hailed Margaret with delight,
+and received her timid suggestions as
+to dinner with enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Miss Margaret, I do think as a chicken-pie
+would be the very thing. I've a couple
+of fowl in the house now, and what would
+you think of putting in a bit of ham, miss?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" said Margaret. "Is that what you
+usually do, Frances? Then I am sure it will
+be just right. And about a pudding; what
+do you think, Frances? You know so many
+kinds of puddings, and they are all so good!"</p>
+
+<p>Well, Frances had been thinking that if Miss
+Margaret should fancy apple-fritters, Mr. Montfort
+was fond of them, and they had not had
+them this month. And lemon-juice with them,
+or a little sugar and wine; which did Miss
+Margaret think would be best? This was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>
+delightful way of keeping house; and after
+praising the bread, which was rising white
+and light in the great pan, and poking the
+bubbles with her little finger, and begging
+that she might be allowed to mix it some day
+soon, Margaret went back in a better humour
+to the White Rooms, and sat down resolutely
+to her buttonholes. There would be no walk
+this morning, evidently; well, when she had
+done her hour's stint, she would go for a little
+stroll by herself. After all, perhaps Uncle
+John would, when the strangeness had worn
+off a little, enjoy having some one of his
+own age to talk to; of course she was very
+young, too young to be much of a companion.
+Still,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Well, she would be cheerful and patient,
+and try to make things pleasant so far as she
+could. And now she could only go and wish
+Uncle John good-bye when he started for
+town, and perhaps walk to the station with
+him, if he was going to walk.</p>
+
+<p>While she sat sewing, glancing at the clock
+from time to time, Cousin Sophronia came in,
+work-bag in hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"He is gone!" she said, cheerfully. "I
+saw him off at the gate. Dearest John! Excellent,
+sterling John Montfort! Such a
+pleasure to be with him! Such a joy to feel
+that I can make a home for him!"</p>
+
+<p>"Gone!" echoed Margaret, looking up in
+dismay. "Why, surely it is not train time!"</p>
+
+<p>"An early train, my love," the lady explained.
+"Your dear uncle felt obliged to
+start an hour earlier than usual, he explained
+to me. These busy men! And how are you
+occupying yourself, my dear? Ah! buttonholes?
+Most necessary! But, my love, you
+are working these the wrong way!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I think not," said Margaret. "This
+is the way I have always made them, Cousin
+Sophronia."</p>
+
+<p>"Wrong, my dear! Quite wrong, I assure
+you. Impossible to get a smooth edge if you
+work them that way. Let me&mdash;h'm! yes!
+that is fairly even, I confess; but the other
+way is the correct one, you must take my
+word for it; and I will show you how, with
+pleasure. So important, I always say, to do
+things just as they should be done!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In vain Margaret protested that she understood
+the other way, but preferred this. She
+finally, for quiet's sake, yielded, and pricked
+her fingers, and made herself hot and cross,
+working the wrong way.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sophronia next began to cross-question
+her about Mrs. Cheriton's last days. Such a
+saintly woman! Austere, some thought; perhaps
+not always charitable&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" cried Margaret, indignant. "Cousin
+Sophronia, you cannot have known Aunt Faith
+at all. She was the very soul of charity; and
+as for being austere&mdash;but it is evident you
+did not know her." She tried to keep down
+her rising temper, with thoughts of the sweet,
+serene eyes that had never met hers without a
+look of love.</p>
+
+<p>"I knew her before you were born, my
+dear!" said Miss Sophronia, with a slightly
+acid smile. "Oh, yes, I was intimately acquainted
+with dear Aunt Faith. I have never
+thought it right to be blind to people's little
+failings, no matter how much we love them.
+I always tell my brother William, 'William,
+do not ask me to be blind! Ask me, expect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
+me, to be indulgent, to be devoted, to be self-sacrificing,&mdash;but
+not blind; blindness is contrary
+to my nature, and you must not expect
+it.' Yes! And&mdash;what was done with the
+clothes, my dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"The clothes?" echoed Margaret. "Aunt
+Faith's clothes, do you mean, Cousin Sophronia?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I meant the Montfort clothes; the
+heirlooms, my dear. But perhaps you never
+saw them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I have seen them often," said
+Margaret. "They are in the cedar chest,
+Cousin Sophronia, where they have always
+been. It is in the deep closet there," she
+nodded towards an alcove at the other end of
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sophronia rose with alacrity. "Ah!
+I think I will look them over. Very valuable,
+some of those clothes are; quite unsuitable,
+I have thought for some years, to have
+them under the charge of an aged person,
+who could not in the course of nature be
+expected to see to them properly. I fear I
+shall find them in a sad condition."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Her hand was already on the door, when
+Margaret was able to speak. "Excuse me,
+Cousin Sophronia; the chest is locked."</p>
+
+<p>"Very proper! Entirely proper!" cried the
+lady. "And you have the key? That will not
+do, will it, my love? Too heavy for these dear
+young shoulders, such a weight of responsibility!
+I will take entire charge of this; not a
+word! It will be a pleasure! Where is the
+key, did you say, love?"</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle John has the key!" said Margaret,
+quietly; and blamed herself severely for the
+pleasure she felt in saying it.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" Miss Montfort paused, her hand on
+the door; for a moment she seemed at a loss;
+but she went on again.</p>
+
+<p>"Right, Margaret! Very right, my love!
+You felt yourself, or your uncle felt for you,
+the unfitness of your having charge of such
+valuables. Ahem! I&mdash;no doubt dear John
+will give me the key, as soon as I mention it.
+I&mdash;I shall not speak of it at once; there is
+no hurry&mdash;except for the danger of moth.
+An old house like Fernley is always riddled
+with moth. I fear the clothes must be quite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
+eaten away with them. Such a sad pity! The
+accumulation of generations!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret hastened to assure her that the
+clothes were looked over regularly once a
+month, and that no sign of moths had ever
+been found in them. Miss Sophronia sighed
+and shook her head, and crocheted for some
+minutes in silence; she was making a brown
+and yellow shoulder-shawl. Margaret thought
+she had never seen a shawl so ugly.</p>
+
+<p>"Has Cousin William Montfort any daughters?"
+she asked, presently, thinking it her
+turn to bear some of the burden of entertainment.</p>
+
+<p>"Four, my dear!" was the prompt reply.
+"Sweet girls! young, heedless, perhaps not
+always considerate; but the sweetest girls
+in the world. Amelia is just your age;
+what a companion she would be for you!
+Dear Margaret! I must write to William, I
+positively must, and suggest his asking you
+for a good long visit. Such a pleasure for
+you and for Amelia! Not a word, my dear! I
+shall consider it a duty, a positive duty!
+Amelia is thought to resemble me in many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
+ways; she is the image of what I was at her
+age. I am forming her; her mother is something
+of an invalid, as I think I have told you.
+The older girls are away from home just now,&mdash;they
+make a good many visits; I am
+always there, and they feel that they can go.
+If they were at home, I should beg dear John
+Montfort to invite Amelia here; such a pleasure
+for him, to have young life in the house.
+But as it is, William must ask you. Consider
+it settled, my love. A&mdash;what was done with
+Aunt Faith's jewels, my dear? She had some
+fine pearls, I remember. Vanderdecken pearls
+they were originally; I should hardly suppose
+Aunt Faith would have felt that she had more
+than a life interest in them. And the great
+amethyst necklace; did she ever show you her
+jewels, my love?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret blushed, and braced herself to
+meet the shock. "I have them, Cousin
+Sophronia!" she said, meekly. "Aunt Faith
+wanted me to have all her jewels, and she
+gave them to me before&mdash;before she died."
+Her voice failed, and the tears rushed to her
+eyes. She was thinking of the frail, white-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>clad
+figure bending over the ancient jewel-box,
+and taking out the pearls. She heard the soft
+voice saying, "Your great-grandmother's pearls,
+my Margaret; they are yours now. Wear
+them for me, and let me have the pleasure of
+seeing them on your neck. You are my
+pearl, Margaret; the only pearl I care for
+now." Dear, dearest Aunt Faith. Why was
+she not here?</p>
+
+<p>Before Miss Sophronia could recover her
+power of speech, a knock came at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon, Miss Margaret!" said
+Elizabeth, putting her head in, in answer to
+Margaret's "Come in!" "The butcher is
+here, miss, and Frances thought perhaps,
+would you come out and see him, miss?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly!" said Margaret, rising; but
+Miss Sophronia was too quick for her.</p>
+
+<p>"In a moment!" she cried, cheerfully.
+"Tell Frances I will be there in a moment,
+Elizabeth! Altogether too much for you, dear
+Margaret, to have so much care. <i>I</i> cannot
+have too much care! It is what I live for;
+give the household matters no further thought,
+I beg of you. You might be setting your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
+bureau drawers in order, if you like, while I
+am seeing the butcher; I always look over
+Amelia's drawers once a week&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She glided away, leaving Margaret white
+with anger. How was she to endure this?
+She was nearly eighteen; she had taken care
+of herself ever since she was seven, and had
+attained, or so she fancied, perfection, in the
+matter of bureau-drawers, at the age of twelve.
+To have her precious arrangements looked
+over, her boxes opened, her&mdash;oh, there could
+be, there <i>was</i> no reason why she should submit
+to this! She locked the drawers quietly, one
+after the other, and put the key in her
+pocket. She would be respectful; she would
+be civil always, and cordial when she could,
+but she would not be imposed upon.</p>
+
+<p>By the time Miss Sophronia came back,
+Margaret was composed, and greeted her
+cousin with a pleasant smile; but this time it
+was the lady who was agitated. She came
+hurrying in, her face red, her air perturbed.
+"Insufferable!" she cried, as soon as the door
+was closed. "Margaret, that woman is insufferable!
+She must leave at once."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Woman! what woman, Cousin Sophronia?"
+asked Margaret, looking up in amazement.</p>
+
+<p>"That Frances! She&mdash;why, she is impertinent,
+Margaret. She insulted me; insulted
+me grossly. I shall speak to John Montfort
+directly he returns. She must go; I cannot
+stay in the house with her."</p>
+
+<p>Go! Frances, who had been at Fernley
+twenty years; for whom the new kitchen, now
+only fifteen years old, had been planned and
+arranged! Margaret was struck dumb for a
+moment; but recovering herself, she tried to
+soothe the angry lady, assuring her that
+Frances could not have meant to be disrespectful;
+that she had a quick temper, but was so
+good and faithful, and so attached to Uncle
+John; and so on. In another moment, to her
+great discomfiture, Miss Sophronia burst into
+tears, declared that she was alone in the
+world, that no one loved her or wanted her,
+and that she was the most unhappy of women.
+Filled with remorseful pity, Margaret bent
+over her, begging her not to cry. She brought
+a smelling-bottle, and Miss Sophronia clutched
+it, sobbing, and told Margaret she was an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
+angelic child. "This&mdash;this is&mdash;a Vanderdecken
+vinaigrette!" she said, between her
+sobs. "Did Eliza Vanderdecken give you
+this, too? Very singular of Eliza! But she
+never had any sense of fitness. Thank you
+my dear! I suffer&mdash;no living creature knows
+what I suffer with my nerves. I&mdash;shall be
+better soon. Don't mind anything I said; I
+must suffer, but it shall always be in silence,
+I always maintain that. No one shall know;
+I never speak of it; I am the grave, for
+silence. Do not&mdash;do not tell your uncle,
+Margaret, how you have seen me suffer. Do
+not betray my momentary weakness!"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not!" said Margaret, heartily.
+"I will not say a word, Cousin Sophronia, of
+course!"</p>
+
+<p>"He would wish to know!" said Miss
+Sophronia, smothering a sob into a sigh.
+"John Montfort would be furious if he
+thought I was ill-treated, and we were concealing
+it from him. He is a lion when once
+roused. Ah! I should be sorry for that
+woman. But forgiveness is a duty, my dear,
+and I forgive. See! I am myself again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
+Quite&mdash;" with a hysterical giggle&mdash;"quite
+myself! I&mdash;I will take the vinaigrette to my
+room with me, I think, my dear. Thank
+you! Dear Margaret! cherub child! how you
+have comforted me!" She went, and Margaret
+heard her sniffing along the entry;
+heard, and told herself she had no business to
+notice such things; and went back rather
+ruefully to her buttonholes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<h3>A NEW TYPE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"My child, I thought you were never coming
+again!" said Mrs. Peyton. "Do you
+know that it is a week since I have seen you?
+I have been destroyed,&mdash;positively destroyed,
+with solitude."</p>
+
+<p>"I am so sorry," said Margaret. "I could
+not come before; truly I could not, Mrs. Peyton.
+And how have you been?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Peyton leaned back on her pillows,
+with a little laugh. "Who cares how I have
+been?" she said, lightly. "What does it
+matter how I have been? Tell me some
+news, Margaret. I must have news. You
+are alive, you move, and have your being;
+tell me something that will make me feel
+alive, too."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret looked at the lady, and thought
+she looked very much alive. She was a vision<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
+of rose colour, from the silk jacket fluttering
+with ribbons, to the pink satin that shimmered
+through the lace bed-spread. The rosy
+colour almost tinted her cheeks, which were
+generally the hue of warm ivory. Her hair,
+like crisped threads of gold, was brought
+down low on her forehead, hiding any lines
+that might have been seen there; it was
+crowned by a bit of cobweb lace, that seemed
+too slight to support the pink ribbon that
+held it together. The lady's hands were
+small, and exquisitely formed, and she wore
+several rings of great value; her eyes were
+blue and limpid, her features delicate and
+regular. Evidently, this had been a great
+beauty. To Margaret, gazing at her in
+honest admiration, she was still one of the
+most beautiful creatures that could be seen.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Peyton laughed under the girl's simple
+look of pleasure. "You like my new jacket?"
+she said. "The doctor never so much as noticed
+it this morning. I think I shall send
+him away, and get another, who has eyes in
+his head. You are the only person who
+really cares for my clothes, Margaret, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
+they are the only interest I have in the
+world."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you wouldn't talk so!" said Margaret,
+colouring. "You don't mean it, and
+why will you say it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do mean it!" said the beautiful lady.
+"I mean every word of it. There's nothing
+else to care for, except you, you dear little
+old-fashioned thing. I like you, because you
+are quaint and truthful. Have you seen my
+pink pearl? You are not half observant,
+that's the trouble with you, Margaret Montfort."</p>
+
+<p>She held out her slender hand; Margaret
+took it, and bent over it affectionately.
+"Oh, what a beautiful ring!" she cried.
+"I never saw a pink pearl like this before,
+Mrs. Peyton, so brilliant, and such a deep
+rose colour. Isn't it very wonderful?"</p>
+
+<p>"The jeweller thought so," said Mrs. Peyton.
+"He asked enough for it; it might have
+been the companion to Cleopatra's. The opal
+setting is pretty, too, don't you think? And
+I have some new stones. You will like to see
+those."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She took up a small bag of chamois leather,
+that lay on the bed beside her, opened it, and
+a handful of precious stones rolled out on the
+lace spread. Margaret caught after one and
+another in alarm. "Oh! Oh, Mrs. Peyton,
+they frighten me! Why, this diamond&mdash;I
+never saw such a diamond. It's as big as
+a pea."</p>
+
+<p>"Imperfect!" said the lady. "A flaw in it,
+you see; but the colour is good, and it does
+just as well for a plaything, though I don't
+like flawed things, as a rule. This sapphire
+is a good one,&mdash;deep, you see; I like a deep
+sapphire."</p>
+
+<p>"This light one is nearer your eyes,"
+said Margaret, taking up a lovely clear blue
+stone.</p>
+
+<p>"Flatterer! People used to say that once;
+a long time ago. Heigh ho, Margaret, don't
+ever grow old! Take poison, or throw yourself
+out of the window, but don't grow old.
+It's a shocking thing to do."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret looked at her friend with troubled,
+affectionate eyes, and laid her hand on the
+jewelled fingers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I mean it!" said the lady, with a
+pretty little grimace. "I mean it, Miss Puritan.
+See! Here's a pretty emerald. But you
+haven't told me the news. Mr. Montfort is
+well always?"</p>
+
+<p>"Always!" said Margaret. "We&mdash;we
+have a visitor just now, Mrs. Peyton,&mdash;some
+one you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Some one I know?" cried Mrs. Peyton.
+"I thought every one I knew was dead and
+buried. Who is it, child? Don't keep me in
+suspense. Can't you see that I am palpitating?"</p>
+
+<p>She laughed, and looked so pretty, and so
+malicious, that Margaret wanted to kiss and
+to shake her at the same moment.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a cousin of Uncle John's and of
+mine," she said; "Miss Sophronia Montfort."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>What!</i>" cried Mrs. Peyton, sitting up in
+bed. "Sophronia Montfort? You are joking,
+Margaret."</p>
+
+<p>Assured that Margaret was not joking, she
+fell back again on her pillows. "Sophronia
+Montfort!" she said, laughing softly. "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
+have not heard of her since the flood. How
+does John&mdash;how does Mr. Montfort endure
+it, Pussy? He was not always a patient
+man."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret thought her uncle one of the most
+patient men she had ever seen.</p>
+
+<p>"And how many men have you seen, little
+girl? Never mind! I will allow him all the
+qualities of the Patient Patriarch. He will
+need them all, if he is to have Sophronia
+long. I am sorry for you, Pussy! Come
+over as often as you can to see me. I am
+dull, but there are worse things than dullness."</p>
+
+<p>This was not very encouraging.</p>
+
+<p>"She&mdash;Cousin Sophronia&mdash;sent you a
+great many messages," Margaret said, timidly.
+"She&mdash;is very anxious to see you,
+Mrs. Peyton. She would like to come over
+some morning, and spend an hour with you."</p>
+
+<p>"If she does, I'll poison her!" said Mrs.
+Peyton, promptly. "Don't look shocked, Margaret
+Montfort; I shall certainly do as I say.
+Sophronia comes here at peril of her life, and
+you may tell her so with my compliments."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Margaret sat silent and distressed, not
+knowing what to say. She had known
+very few people in her quiet life, and this
+beautiful lady, whom she admired greatly,
+also puzzled her sadly.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot tell her that, can I, dear Mrs.
+Peyton?" she said, at last. "I shall tell her
+that you are not well,&mdash;that is true, most
+certainly,&mdash;and that you do not feel able
+to see her."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell her what you please," said Emily
+Peyton, laughing again. "If she comes, I
+shall poison her,&mdash;that is my first and last
+word. Tell her? Tell her that Emily Peyton
+is a wreck; that she lies here like a log,
+week after week, month after month, caring
+for nothing, no one caring for her, except
+a kind little girl, who is frightened at her
+wild talk. I might try the poison on myself
+first, Margaret; what do you think of that?"
+Then, seeing Margaret's white, shocked face,
+she laughed again, and fell to tossing the
+gems into the air, and catching them as they
+fell. "It would be a pity, though, just when
+I have got all these new playthings. Did you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>
+bring a book to read to me, little girl? I
+can't abide reading, but I like to hear your
+voice. You have something, I see it in
+your guilty face. Poetry, I'll be bound.
+Out with it, witch! You hope to bring me
+to a sense of the error of my ways. Why,
+I used to read poetry, Margaret, by the dozen
+yards. Byron,&mdash;does any one read Byron
+nowadays?"</p>
+
+<p>"My father was fond of Byron," said Margaret.
+"He used to read me bits of 'Childe
+Harold' and the 'Corsair;' I liked them,
+and I always loved the 'Assyrian.' But&mdash;I
+thought you might like something bright
+and cheerful to-day, Mrs. Peyton, so I brought
+Austin Dobson. Are you fond of Dobson?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never heard of him!" said the lady, carelessly.
+"Read whatever you like, child;
+your voice always soothes me. Will you
+come and be my companion, Margaret? Your
+uncle has Sophronia now; he cannot need
+you. Come to me! You shall have a thousand,
+two thousand dollars a year, and all
+the jewels you want. I'll have these set for
+you, if you like."</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 268px;">
+<img src="images/gs03.png" width="268" height="400" alt="&quot;&#39;DID YOU BRING A BOOK TO READ TO ME, LITTLE GIRL?&#39;&quot;" title="&quot;&#39;DID YOU BRING A BOOK TO READ TO ME, LITTLE GIRL?&#39;&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;&#39;DID YOU BRING A BOOK TO READ TO ME, LITTLE GIRL?&#39;&quot;</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She seemed only half in earnest, and Margaret
+laughed. "You sent your last companion
+away, you know, Mrs. Peyton," she
+said. "I'm afraid I should not suit you,
+either."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, that woman ate apples! No
+one could endure that, you know. Ate&mdash;champed
+apples in my ears, and threw the
+cores into my grate. Positively, she smelt of
+apples all day long. I had to have the room
+fumigated when she left. A dreadful person!
+One of her front teeth was movable, too, and
+set me distracted every time she opened her
+mouth. Are you ever going to begin?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret read two or three of her favourite
+poems, but with little heart in her reading,
+for she felt that her listener was not listening.
+Now and then would come an impatient
+sigh, or a fretful movement of the jewelled
+hands; once a sapphire was tossed up in the
+air, and fell on the floor by Margaret's feet.
+Only when she began the lovely "Good Night,
+Babette!" did Mrs. Peyton's attention seem
+to fix. She listened quietly, and, at the end,
+drew a deep breath.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You call that bright and cheerful, do
+you?" Mrs. Peyton murmured. "Everything
+looks cheerful in the morning. Good
+night,&mdash;"I grow so old,"&mdash;how dare you
+read me such a thing as that, Margaret
+Montfort? It is an impertinence."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed," said Margaret, colouring, and
+now really wounded. "I do not understand
+you at all to-day, Mrs. Peyton. I don't seem
+to be able to please you, and it is time for
+me to go."</p>
+
+<p>She rose, and the lady, her mood changing
+again in an instant, took her two hands, and
+drew her close to her side.</p>
+
+<p>"You are my only comfort," she said.
+"Do you hear that? You are the only
+person in this whole dreadful place that I
+would give the half of a burnt straw to
+see. Remember that, when I behave too
+abominably. Yes, go now, for I am going
+to have a bad turn. Send Antonia; and
+come again soon&mdash;soon, do you hear, Margaret?
+But remember&mdash;remember that the
+poison-bowl waits for Sophronia!"</p>
+
+<p>"What&mdash;shall I give her any message?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
+said poor Margaret, as she bent to kiss the
+white forehead between the glittering waves
+of hair.</p>
+
+<p>"Give her my malediction," said Mrs. Peyton.
+"Tell her it is almost a consolation for
+lying here, to think I need not see her. Tell
+her anything you like. Go now! Good-bye,
+child! Dear little quaint, funny, prim child,
+good-bye!"</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Margaret walked home sadly enough. She
+loved and admired her beautiful friend, but
+she did not understand her, and there was
+much that she could not approve. It seemed
+absurd, she often said to herself, for a girl of
+her age to criticise, to venture to disapprove,
+of a woman old enough to be her mother, one
+who had travelled the world over, and knew
+plenty of human nature, if little of books.
+Yet, the thought would come again, there was
+no age to right and wrong; and there were
+things that it could not be right to think,
+or kind to say, at eighteen or at eighty.
+And her uncle did not like Mrs. Peyton.
+Margaret felt that, without his having<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
+ever put it into words. Still, she was so
+beautiful, so fascinating,&mdash;and so kind to
+her! Perhaps, unconsciously, Margaret did
+miss a good deal the two young cousins
+who had been with her during her first
+year at Fernley; surely, and every hour,
+she missed her Aunt Faith, whose tenderness
+had been that of the mother she had never
+known.</p>
+
+<p>She was in no haste to go home; there was
+still an hour before Uncle John would come.
+There was little peace at home in these days,
+but a prying eye, and a tongue that was seldom
+still save in sleep. She had left Elizabeth in
+tears to-day, her precious linen having been
+pulled over, and all the creases changed because
+they ran the wrong way. In vain
+Margaret had reminded her of the heroine of
+the story she had liked so much, the angelic
+Elizabeth of Hungary. "It don't make much
+difference, Miss Margaret!" Elizabeth said.
+"I am no saint, miss, and all the roses in the
+world wouldn't make my table-cloths look fit
+to go on, now."</p>
+
+<p>Frances was "neither to hold or to bind;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
+even the two young girls whom the elder
+women had in training were tossing their
+heads and muttering over their brasses and
+their saucepans. The apple of discord seemed
+to be rolling all about the once peaceful rooms
+of Fernley House. "I'll go home through the
+woods," said Margaret, "and see if they have
+begun work on the bog yet."</p>
+
+<p>It was lovely in the woods. Margaret
+thought there could be no such woods in the
+world as these of Fernley. The pines were
+straight and tall, and there was little or no
+undergrowth; just clear, fragrant stretches of
+brown needles, where one could lie at length
+and look up into the whispering green, and
+watch the birds and squirrels. There was
+moss here and there; here and there, too, a
+bed of pale green ferns, delicate and plumy;
+but most of it was the soft red-brown carpet
+that Margaret loved better even than ferns.
+She walked slowly along, drinking in beauty
+and rest at every step. If she could only
+bring the sick lady out here, she thought, to
+breathe this life-giving air! Surely she would
+be better! She did not look ill enough to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
+stay always in bed. They must try to bring
+it about.</p>
+
+<p>She stopped at the little brook, and sat
+down on a mossy stone. The water was clear
+and brown, breaking into white over the
+pebbles here and there. How delightful it
+would be to take off her shoes and stockings,
+and paddle about a little! Peggy, her cousin,
+would have been in the water in an instant,
+very likely shoes and all; but Margaret was
+timid, and it required some resolution to pull
+off her shoes and stockings, and a good deal
+of glancing over her shoulder, to make sure
+that no one was in sight. Indeed, who could
+be? The water was cool; oh, so cool and
+fresh! She waded a little way; almost lost her
+balance on a slippery stone, and fled back to
+the bank, laughing and out of breath. A frog
+came up to look at her, and goggled in amazement;
+she flipped water at him with her hand,
+and he vanished indignant. It would be very
+pleasant to walk along the bed of the stream,
+as far as the entrance to the bog meadow.
+Could she venture so far? No, for after all, it
+was possible that some of the workmen might<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
+have arrived and might be in the neighbourhood,
+though they were not to begin work till
+the next day. Very slowly Margaret drew
+her feet out of the clear stream where they
+twinkled and looked so white,&mdash;Margaret had
+pretty feet,&mdash;but she could not make up her
+mind to put on the shoes and stockings just
+yet. She must dry her feet; and this moss
+was delightful to walk on. So on she went,
+treading lightly and carefully, finding every
+step a pure pleasure, till she saw sunlight
+breaking through the green, and knew that
+she was coming to the edge of the peat bog.
+Ah, what memories this place brought to
+Margaret's mind! She could see her cousin
+Rita, springing out in merry defiance over the
+treacherous green meadow; could hear her
+scream, and see her sinking deep, deep, into
+the dreadful blackness below. Then, like a
+flash, came Peggy from the wood, this very
+wood she was walking in now, and ran, and
+crept, and reached out, and by sheer strength
+and cleverness saved Rita from a dreadful
+death, while she, Margaret, stood helpless by.
+Dear, brave Peggy! Ah, dear girls both! How<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
+she would like to see them this moment.
+Why! Why, what was that?</p>
+
+<p>Some one was whistling out there in the
+open. Whistling a lively, rollicking air, with
+a note as clear and strong as a bird's. Horror!
+The workmen must have come! Margaret
+was down on the grass in an instant,
+pulling desperately at her shoes and stockings.
+From the panic she was in, one might
+have thought that the woods were full of
+whistling brigands, all rushing in her direction,
+with murder in their hearts. She could
+hardly see; there was a knot in her shoe-string;
+why did she ever have shoes that
+tied? Her heart was beating, the blood
+throbbing in her ears,&mdash;and all the time
+the whistling went on, not coming nearer,
+but trilling away in perfect cheerfulness,
+though broken now and then, and coming
+in fits and starts. At last! At last the
+shoes were tied, and Margaret stood up,
+still panting and crimson, but feeling that
+she could face a robber, or even an innocent
+workman, without being disgraced for life.
+Cautiously she stole to the edge of the wood,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
+and peeped between the pine-boles. The sun
+lay full on the peat bog, and it shone like a
+great, sunny emerald, friendly and smiling,
+with no hint of the black treachery at its
+heart. No hint? But look! Out in the
+very middle of the bog a figure was standing,
+balanced on a tussock of firm earth.
+A light, active figure, in blue jean jumper
+and overalls. One of the workmen, who
+did not know of the peril, and was plunging
+to his destruction? Margaret opened her
+lips to cry aloud, but kept silence, for the
+next moment she comprehended that the
+young man (he was evidently young, though
+his back was turned to her) knew well enough
+what he was about. He had a long pole in
+his hand, and with this he was poking and
+prodding about in the black depths beneath
+him. Now he sounded carefully a little way
+ahead of him, and then, placing his pole
+carefully on another firm spot, leaped to it
+lightly. The black bog water gurgled up
+about his feet, but he did not sink, only
+planted his feet more firmly, and went on
+with his sounding. Now he was singing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
+What was he singing? What a quaint,
+funny air!</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"A wealthy young farmer of Plymouth, we hear,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">He courted a nobleman's daughter, so dear;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And for to be married it was their intent,&mdash;</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='unindent'>Hi! muskrat!&mdash;come out of there!" He
+almost lost his balance, and Margaret
+screamed a very small scream, that could
+not be heard a dozen yards. Recovering
+himself, the young man began to make his
+way towards the shore, at a point nearly
+opposite to where Margaret stood. Springing
+lightly to the firm ground, he took off
+his cap, and made a low bow to the bog,
+saying at the same time something, Margaret
+could not hear what. Then, looking
+carefully about him, the young workman
+appeared to be selecting a spot of earth
+that was to his mind; having done so, he
+sat down, took out a note-book, and wrote
+with ardour for several minutes. Then he
+took off his cap, and ran his fingers through
+his hair&mdash;which was very curly, and bright
+red&mdash;till it stood up in every direction; then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
+he turned three elaborate somersaults; and
+then, with another salute to the bog, and a
+prolonged whistle, he went off, leaping on his
+pole, and singing, as he went:</div>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"And for to be mar-ri-ed it was their intent;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">All friends and relations had given their consent."</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<h3>A LESSON IN GEOGRAPHY.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, uncle."</p>
+
+<p>"Can you come here a moment, my dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Surely, Uncle John. I was looking for
+you, and could not find you."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret came running in from the garden.
+Her uncle was sitting in his private study,
+which opened directly on the garden, and
+communicated by a staircase in the wall with
+his bedroom. The study was a pleasant room,
+lined with books for the most part, but with
+some valuable pictures, and a great table full
+of drawers, and several presses or secretaries,
+filled with papers and family documents of
+every kind. Mr. John Montfort, recluse
+though he was, was the head of a large and
+important family connection. Few of his
+relatives ever saw him, but most of them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>
+were in more or less constant correspondence
+with him, and he knew all their secrets,
+though not one of them could boast of knowing
+his. He was the friend and adviser, the
+kindly helper, of many a distant cousin who
+had never met the kind, grave glance of his
+brown eyes. Peggy Montfort used to say,
+in the days when it had pleased him to appear
+as John Strong, the gardener, that it
+"smoothed her all out," just to look at him;
+and many people experienced the same feeling
+on receiving one of his letters. No one
+had it, however, so strongly as Margaret herself,
+or so she thought; and it was with a
+sensation of delightful relief that she answered
+his call this morning. Mr. Montfort turned
+round from the great table at which he was
+sitting, and held out his hand affectionately.</p>
+
+<p>"Come here, my child," he said, "and let
+me look at you. Look me straight in the
+eyes; yes, that will do. You are feeling well,
+Margaret? You look well, I must say."</p>
+
+<p>"Well? Of course, Uncle John! Am I
+ever anything else? I have never had a
+day's illness since I came here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You do not feel the load of responsibility
+too much for your young shoulders?" Mr.
+Montfort went on. "It&mdash;it is not too dull
+for you here, alone month after month with
+an elderly man, and a hermit, and one
+who has the reputation of a grim and unfriendly
+old fellow? What do you say,
+Margaret?"</p>
+
+<p>The quick tears sprang to Margaret's eyes.
+She looked up at her uncle, and saw in his
+eyes the quizzical twinkle that always half
+puzzled and wholly delighted her. "Oh,
+uncle!" she cried; "you really deceived me
+this time! I might have known you were in
+fun,&mdash;but you were so grave!"</p>
+
+<p>"Grave?" said Mr. Montfort. "Never
+more so, I assure you. I may not have very
+serious doubts, in my own mind; nevertheless,
+I want your assurance. Do you, Margaret
+Montfort, find life a burden under
+existing circumstances, or do you find it&mdash;well,
+endurable for awhile yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"I find life as happy as I can imagine it,"
+said Margaret, simply; and then, being absolutely
+truthful, she added, "That is,&mdash;I did<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>
+find it so, Uncle John,&mdash;until these last two
+weeks."</p>
+
+<p>"Precisely!" said Mr. Montfort. "Not a
+word, my dear! I understand you. You are
+fond of children, I think, Margaret?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very fond," said Margaret, thinking that
+Uncle John was strange indeed to-day.</p>
+
+<p>"Get on well with them, I should suppose.
+You had a great deal of influence over Peggy,
+Margaret."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear, good Peggy! She was so ready to be
+influenced, Uncle John. She was just waiting
+to&mdash;to be helped on a little, don't you
+know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; so Rita thought, if I remember
+aright!" said Mr. Montfort, dryly. "But
+with younger children, eh? You have had
+some experience of them, perhaps, Margaret?"</p>
+
+<p>Was he still joking? Margaret had not
+much sense of humour, and she was sadly
+puzzled again.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I love little children," she said.
+"Of course I do, Uncle John!"</p>
+
+<p>"Little children,&mdash;yes. But how about
+boys? Active, noisy, happy-go-lucky boys?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>
+Boys that smash windows, and yell, and tear
+their clothes on barbed-wire fences? How
+about those, Margaret?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is that the kind of boy you were, Uncle
+John?" asked Margaret, smiling. "Because
+if so, I am sure I shall like them very much."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, my dear child!" he said.
+"You are well and happy, and we understand
+each other, and that is all right, very
+right. Now, Margaret,&mdash;I ask this for form's
+sake merely,&mdash;have you been in this room
+before, to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Uncle John," said Margaret.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you have not. Knew it before
+I asked you. Do you notice anything
+unusual in the appearance of the room, my
+dear?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret looked about her, wondering. It
+produced an impression of&mdash;well, not just the
+perfect order in which it was generally to be
+found. Several drawers were half open; a
+sheaf of papers lay on the floor, as if
+dropped by a startled hand. The writing
+things were disarranged, slightly, yet noticeably;
+for Mr. Montfort always kept them in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>
+one position, which was never changed save
+when they were in actual use.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it looks&mdash;as if&mdash;as if you had
+been in a hurry, Uncle John," she said at last.</p>
+
+<p>"It looks as if <i>some one</i> had been in
+a hurry," said Mr. Montfort, significantly.
+"I have not been in this room before,
+to-day; I found it in this condition. Never
+mind, my dear! I am going to write a letter
+now. Don't let me keep you any longer."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret went away, wondering much; her
+uncle joined her soon, and they looked at the
+roses together, and chatted as usual, and were
+happy, till Cousin Sophronia rapped on the
+window with her thimble, and asked whether
+they were coming in, or whether she should
+come out and join them.</p>
+
+<p>She was trying that evening, Cousin Sophronia.
+Nothing on the tea-table suited her,
+to begin with. She declared the beef tea
+unfit to touch, and desired Mr. Montfort to
+taste it, which he politely but firmly refused
+to do. "But it is not fit to eat!" cried the
+lady. "I insist on your tasting it, my dear
+John."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My dear Sophronia, I am extremely sorry
+it is not to your taste. If it is not good,
+I certainly do not want to taste it. Send it
+away and ask me to taste something that is
+good."</p>
+
+<p>The chicken was tough. "You should
+change your butcher, John. Or are these
+your own fowls? Chickens I will not call
+them; they must be two years old at least.
+Nothing disagrees with me like tough poultry.
+Nobody to look after the fowls properly, I suppose.
+I must take them in hand; not that I
+have had any experience myself of fowls, but
+an educated person, you understand. So important,
+I always say, to bring educated intelligence
+to bear on these matters. And then,
+these knives are so dull! Even if the fowls were
+tender, impossible to make an impression with
+such a knife as this. Elizabeth, what do you
+use for your knives?"</p>
+
+<p>Elizabeth used Bristol brick, as she always
+had done.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, entirely out of date, Bristol brick. You
+must send for some of the preparation that
+William uses, John. Nothing like it. Some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>thing
+or other, it's called; somebody's&mdash;I
+can't remember now, but we will have it,
+never fear, dearest John. Shameful, for
+you to be subjected to dull knives <i>and</i> tough
+poultry. What are these? Strawberries?
+Dear me! I did hope we could have raspberries
+this evening. One is so tired of strawberries
+by this time, don't you think so?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry," said Mr. Montfort. "The
+raspberries will be ripe in a day or two,
+Sophronia; Willis thought they would hardly
+do to pick to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I assure you, my dearest John,
+Willis is entirely wrong. I examined the
+bushes myself; I went quite through them,
+and found them quite&mdash;entirely ripe. That
+was just Willis's laziness, depend upon it.
+These old servants" (Elizabeth had gone
+to get more cream, the lady having emptied
+the jug on her despised strawberries) "are
+too lazy to be of much use. Depend upon
+it, John, you will know no peace until you
+get rid of them all, and start afresh; I am
+thinking very seriously about it, I assure you,
+my dear fellow. Yes, I have been longing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>
+for days for a plate of raspberries and cream.
+I have so little appetite, that whenever I <i>can</i>
+tempt it a little, the doctor says, I must not
+fail to do so. No more, dear, thank you! It
+is of no consequence, you know, really, not
+the least in the world; only, one can be of so
+much more use, when one keeps one's health.
+Ah, you remember what health I had as a
+child, John! You remember the dear old days
+here, when we were children together?"</p>
+
+<p>"I remember them very well, Sophronia,"
+said Mr. Montfort, steadily. "And speaking
+of that, I am expecting some young visitors
+here in a day or two."</p>
+
+<p>Cousin Sophronia looked up with a jerk;
+Margaret looked at her uncle in surprise;
+he sipped his tea tranquilly, and repeated:
+"Some young visitors, yes. They will interest
+you, Sophronia, with your strong family
+feeling."</p>
+
+<p>"Who&mdash;who are they?" asked Miss Sophronia.
+"Most ill-judged, I must say, to
+have children here just now; who did you
+say they were, John?"</p>
+
+<p>"Cousin Anthony's children. They lost<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
+their mother some years ago, you remember;
+I fancy Anthony has had rather a hard time
+with them since. Now he has to go out West
+for the rest of the summer, and I have asked
+them to come here."</p>
+
+<p>For once Miss Sophronia was speechless.
+After a moment's silence, Margaret ventured
+to say, timidly, "How old are the children,
+Uncle John?"</p>
+
+<p>"Really, my dear, I hardly know. Two
+boys and a girl, I believe. I don't even
+know their names; haven't seen their father
+for twenty years. Good fellow, Anthony; a
+little absent-minded and heedless, but a good
+fellow always. I was glad to be able to oblige
+him."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sophronia recovered her speech.</p>
+
+<p>"Really, my dear John," she said, with an
+acrid smile; "I had no idea you were such
+a philanthropist. If Fernley is to become an
+asylum for orphan relations&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Sophronia!" said Mr. Montfort.</p>
+
+<p>His tone was quiet, but there was something
+in it that made the lady redden, and
+check herself instantly. Margaret wondered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>
+what would become of her, if her uncle
+should ever speak to her in that tone.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure I meant nothing!" said Miss
+Sophronia, bridling and rallying again. "I
+am sure there was no allusion to our dearest
+Margaret. Absurd! But these children are
+very different. Why, Anthony Montfort is
+your second cousin, John. I know every
+shade of relationship; it is impossible to
+deceive me in such matters, John."</p>
+
+<p>"I should not attempt it, my dear cousin,"
+said Mr. Montfort, quietly. "Anthony <i>is</i>
+my second cousin. I will go further to meet
+you, and admit boldly that these children are
+my second cousins once removed, and Margaret's
+third cousins. Where shall we put them,
+Margaret?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dearest John," cried Miss Sophronia,
+in her gayest tone, "you are not to give it a
+thought! Is he, Margaret? No, my dear
+fellow! It is noble of you&mdash;Quixotic, I must
+think, but undeniably noble&mdash;to take in
+these poor little waifs; but you shall have no
+further thought about providing for them.
+Everything shall be arranged; I know the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>
+house from garret to cellar, remember. I
+will make every arrangement, dearest John,
+depend upon me!"</p>
+
+<p>The evenings were not very gay at Fernley
+just now. Miss Sophronia could not keep
+awake while any one else read aloud; so she
+took matters into her own hands, and read
+herself, for an hour by the clock. Her voice
+was high and thin, and kept Mr. Montfort
+awake; she was apt to emphasise the wrong
+words, which made Margaret's soul cry out
+within her; and she stopped every few minutes
+to chew a cardamom seed with great
+deliberation. This simple action had the effect
+of making both her hearers extremely nervous,
+they could not have explained why.
+Also, she was afflicted with a sniff, which
+recurred at regular intervals, generally in
+the middle of a sentence. Altogether the
+reading was a chastened pleasure nowadays;
+and this particular evening it was certainly
+a relief when she declared, before the hour
+was quite over, that she was hoarse, and must
+stop before the end of the chapter. On the
+whole, she thought it might be better for her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
+to go to bed early, and take some warm drink.
+"It would never do for me to be laid up,
+with these children coming to be seen after!"
+she declared. So she departed, and Margaret
+and her uncle sat down to a game of backgammon,
+and played slowly and peacefully,
+lingering over their moves as long as they
+pleased, and tasting the pleasure of having
+no one say that they should play this or that,
+"of course!"</p>
+
+<p>The game over, Mr. Montfort leaned back
+in his chair, with an air of content.</p>
+
+<p>"This is pleasant!" he said, slowly. "Margaret,
+my dear, this is very pleasant!"
+Margaret smiled at him, but made no reply.
+None was needed: the uncle and niece were so
+much alike in tastes and feelings, that they
+hardly needed speech, sometimes, to know
+each other's thoughts. Both were content to
+sit now silent, in the soft, cheerful candle-light,
+looking about on the books and pictures that
+they loved, and feeling the silence like a
+cordial.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Mr. Montfort's air of cheerful
+meditation changed. He sat upright, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>
+leaned slightly forward. He seemed to listen
+for something. Then suddenly, softly, he
+rose, and with silent step crossed the room
+and stood a moment beside the wall. It was
+a very different face that he turned to Margaret
+the next instant.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear," he said, "there is some one in
+my study."</p>
+
+<p>"In your study, Uncle John? What do you
+mean? That is,&mdash;how can you tell, uncle?"</p>
+
+<p>"Come here, and listen!" said her uncle.
+Margaret stole to his side, and listened, her
+head, like his, near the wall. She heard the
+crackling of paper; the sound of a drawer
+pulled softly out; the clank, muffled, but unmistakable,
+of brass handles. What did it
+mean? She looked to her uncle for explanation.
+He shook his head and motioned her
+to be silent. Then, taking her hand in his,
+he led her softly from the room. Margaret
+followed, greatly wondering, across the wide
+hall; through the low door that led to the
+White Rooms, now her own; into her own
+sitting-room, or Aunt Faith's room, as she
+still loved to call it. Here Mr. Montfort<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
+released her hand, and again motioned her to
+be silent.</p>
+
+<p>"I will explain by and by, my dear," he
+said. "Follow me, now, and learn another
+lesson in Fernley geography; I was keeping
+it for a surprise some day, but never mind.
+Where is this place?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret noticed, in all her confusion of
+surprise, that the great white chair was
+pushed away from its usual place. Her uncle
+stepped in behind the table near which it
+always stood, and passed his hand along the
+smooth white panel of the wall. Noiselessly
+it swung open, revealing a dark space. Margaret
+obeyed his gesture, and following, found
+herself in a narrow passage, carpeted with
+felt, on which her feet made no sound. They
+went forward some way; it was quite dark,
+but she followed her uncle's guidance, and he
+trod as surely as if it were broad daylight.
+Presently he stopped, and, with a pressure of
+the hand, bade her listen again. The rustling
+of paper sounded very clear now; there
+was another rustle, too, the rustle of silk.
+Suddenly, light flashed upon them; Margaret<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>
+felt herself drawn swiftly forward; there was
+a smothered exclamation in her uncle's voice,
+followed by a scream from another.</p>
+
+<p>They were standing in Mr. Montfort's study.
+The room was lighted by a single candle, that
+stood on the writing-table; beside this table,
+backed against it in an attitude of terror and
+surprise, stood Miss Sophronia Montfort, her
+hands full of documents, her eyes glaring.
+There was a moment of silence, and Margaret
+counted her heart-beats. Then&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Can I be of any assistance to you, my
+dear Sophronia?" asked Mr. Montfort, blandly.
+"You seem in distress; allow me to relieve
+you of some of these." He took the papers
+quietly, and laid them on the table. Miss
+Sophronia gasped once, twice; opened and
+shut her eyes several times, and swallowed
+convulsively; when she spoke, it was with a
+fluttering voice, but in something like her
+ordinary tone.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear John! How you startled me!
+A&mdash;a&mdash;little surprise for you, my dear
+fellow. Such a shocking condition as your
+papers were in. I thought&mdash;a kindness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>&mdash;to
+bring a little order out of chaos; he! he!
+ahem! my throat is troublesome to-night. A
+warm drink! Yes, my dear John, I remembered
+the old passage, you see. I said, why
+should I disturb the dear fellow, to ask him
+for the key to the outer door? And really,
+John, these papers are too&mdash;too bad!"</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head in a manner that was
+meant to be playful; but suddenly the smile
+dropped from her face like a mask; for Mr.
+Montfort did a singular thing. He bent his
+head forward slightly; fixed his eyes on his
+cousin with a peculiar expression, and advanced
+slowly, one step. "Sophronia!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sophronia began to tremble.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't, John!" she cried. "John Montfort,
+don't do it! I am your own cousin.
+Your father and mine were brothers, John. I
+hope I know my duty&mdash;ah, don't! I will
+not, John Montfort!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret looked from one to the other in
+blank amazement. The lady seemed in the
+extremity of terror. Her uncle&mdash;was this
+her uncle? Instead of the grave, dignified
+gentleman, she seemed to see a boy; a boy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>
+intent on mischief, every motion of him alive
+with power and malice. Step by step he
+advanced, his hands clenched, his head bent
+forward, his eyes still fixed, bright and strong,
+on his cousin.</p>
+
+<p>"Sophronia!" he said, "I am coming!
+Sophronia! Sophronia! Sophronia!" Each
+time he quickened voice and step. He was
+almost upon her; with one wild shriek Miss
+Sophronia turned and fled. Her skirts whisked
+along the secret passage; they heard the door
+bang. She was gone.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort sat down in his study chair
+and laughed long and silently.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't look so frightened, my dear!" he
+said, at last. "It was a scurvy trick, but she
+deserved it. I&mdash;I used to run Sophronia up-stairs,
+Margaret, when she was a troublesome
+girl. It always frightened her. I'd have
+done it in another minute, if she had not run,
+but I knew she would. Poor Sophronia! I
+suppose something of the boy stays in us, my
+dear, as long as we live. I&mdash;I am afraid I
+should rather have enjoyed running Sophronia
+up-stairs."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE DAUNTLESS THREE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The next morning Miss Sophronia kept her
+bed; her cold, she said, was too severe to admit
+of her joining the family at breakfast.
+Margaret waited on her with an uneasy sense
+of guilt in general, though she could not accuse
+herself of any special sin. She did her
+best to be sympathetic and dutiful, having
+been brought up to respect her elders sincerely.
+But she was puzzled all the same,
+and when it came to any question between
+her cousin and her uncle, there were no more
+doubts. She must put herself out of the way
+as much as possible, and give up, wherever
+her own pleasure was concerned,&mdash;where it
+was any matter connected with Uncle John,
+she would be the Rock of Gibraltar. This
+being settled, the Rock of Gibraltar brought
+raspberries for Cousin Sophronia's breakfast,
+and made her room bright with flowers, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
+tried to make cheer for her. The poor lady
+was rather subdued, and told Margaret she
+was a cherub child; then declared she would
+not be a burden on any one, and sent the girl
+away to "amuse herself."</p>
+
+<p>"Be happy as a butterfly, my dear, all the
+morning; don't give me a thought, I beg
+of you. If Frances would have a new-laid
+egg ready for me at eleven&mdash;positively a
+new-laid one, Margaret! Perhaps you would
+bring it yourself from the hen-yard. I have
+no confidence in servants, and it would make
+a pleasant little trip for you. So important,
+I always say, for the young to have something
+useful to mingle with their sports.
+Boiled three minutes and a half, my love!
+I doubt if I can eat it, but it is my duty to
+make the attempt. Bless you! Good-bye!
+If you happen to have nothing to do about
+twelve, you might bring your work and sit
+with me. I am the most sociable creature in
+the world; I cannot endure to be alone when
+I am ill; but don't have me on your mind,
+my love, for a single instant."</p>
+
+<p>All the duties attended to, Margaret spent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>
+a delightful hour, with Elizabeth's assistance,
+in making ready the rooms for the newcomers.
+The little girl was to have Peggy's
+room, next her own, and that needed nothing
+save fresh flowers in the vases, and fresh ribbons
+on the curtains. But the boys were to
+have the old nursery, the great room that ran
+across the whole width of the house, on the
+third floor. It was a pleasant room, with
+dormer windows facing east and south, a
+great fireplace, with a high wire fender,
+and a huge sofa, covered with red chintz
+dragons. A funny sofa it was, with little
+drawers let in along the sides. John Montfort
+and his brothers used to lie on this sofa,
+when they had the measles and whooping-cough,
+and play with the brass drawer-handles,
+and keep their treasures in the
+drawers. The windows were barred, and
+there was a gate across the landing, at the
+top of the stairs. Elizabeth had suggested
+taking away the gate and the bars, "such
+big young gentlemen as these would be, most
+likely, sir!" but Mr. Montfort shook his head
+very decidedly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If they are Montfort boys, Elizabeth, they
+will need all the bars we can give them.
+Master Richard was twelve, when he squeezed
+himself between these, and went along the
+gutter hanging by his hands, till he came
+to the spout, and shinned down it. Never
+make things too easy for a Montfort boy!"</p>
+
+<p>In one corner stood a huge rocking-horse,
+with saddle and bridle of crimson leather,
+rather the worse for wear. He was blind
+of one eye, and his tail had seen service, but
+he was a fine animal for all that. Margaret
+hunted about in the attic, and found a box of
+ninepins. Marbles, too; Uncle John had told
+her that there must be marbles somewhere, in
+a large bag of flowered purple calico, with a
+red string. They had been there forty years;
+they must be there still. She found them at
+last, hanging from a peg of one of the great
+beams. On the beam close by was written:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"This is my Peg. If any Pig touches my Peg,
+that Pig will be Pegged. Signed, <span class="smcap">John Montfort</span>."</p></div>
+
+<p>"Oh," thought Margaret, "what a pleasant
+boy Uncle John must have been! What good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
+times we should have had together!" And
+then she reflected that he could not possibly
+have been so nice a boy as he was an uncle,
+and was content.</p>
+
+<p>The marbles, and the rocking-horse, and&mdash;what
+else ought there to be? Tops! Uncle
+John had said something about tops. Here
+Margaret screamed, and fled to the attic door.
+Something was moving on the beam by which
+she had been standing, perched on a chair.
+Something rolled slowly along, half the length
+of the beam, and dropped to the floor and
+rolled towards her. Laughing now, Margaret
+stooped and picked up a great ball, a
+leather ball, striped red and black. On one
+of the red stripes was written, in large, unconventional
+letters, "Roger." It was her
+father's ball! Margaret held the toy very
+tenderly in her hands, and tried to see the
+worn, thoughtful face she remembered so
+well, a rosy boy's face, full of light and
+laughter. She had seen, yesterday, strangely
+enough, her uncle's boyish looks, revealed in
+a flash of mischief; it was less easy to see
+her father's.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As she stood meditating, the sound of
+wheels was heard outside. Margaret ran
+to look out of the little gable window, then
+clapped her hands together, in amazement
+and pleasure. The children had come!</p>
+
+<p>When she reached the verandah, they were
+already standing there, facing Mr. Montfort,
+who had come out by an early train, and was
+standing looking at them with amused attention,
+holding the little girl's hands in his.</p>
+
+<p>"And what are your names, my dears?"
+he was saying.</p>
+
+<p>"Basil, Merton, and Susan D.," replied the
+elder boy, promptly, while three pairs of sharp
+eyes were fastened on the strange uncle.</p>
+
+<p>"Battle, Murder, and Sudden Death!" said
+Mr. Montfort under his breath. He had no
+idea that any one could hear him, but a shriek
+of laughter startled him, and made Margaret
+jump.</p>
+
+<p>"That's what Puppa calls us!" cried Basil,
+springing lightly up and down on the tips
+of his toes. "We didn't know whether you
+would or not; he said you would pretty soon,
+anyhow. How do you do, Uncle John? We<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>
+are very well, thank you. I am thirteen, and
+Mert is twelve, and Susan D. is ten. Puppa
+hopes we shall not be troublesome, and here
+are the keys of the trunks."</p>
+
+<p>The boy drew a long breath, and looked
+round him with an air of triumph.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I should think you would know
+it!" said his brother. "Been saying it all
+the way over here."</p>
+
+<p>"More than you could do!" retorted his
+elder.</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't do it anyhow, so there!" said
+the younger.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 270px;">
+<img src="images/gs04.png" width="270" height="400" alt="&quot;THE LITTLE GIRL HAD NEVER STIRRED, BUT STOOD GAZING UP AT THE BIG MAN WHO HELD HER HANDS.&quot;" title="&quot;THE LITTLE GIRL HAD NEVER STIRRED, BUT STOOD GAZING UP AT THE BIG MAN WHO HELD HER HANDS.&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE LITTLE GIRL HAD NEVER STIRRED, BUT STOOD GAZING UP AT THE BIG MAN WHO HELD HER HANDS.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>These last remarks had been carried on in
+an undertone, the set speech having been
+delivered slowly and with much dignity.
+Finally each boy kicked the other's shins
+surreptitiously, and then both stared again
+at their uncle. The little girl had never
+stirred, but stood gazing up at the big man
+who held her hands so lightly and yet so
+kindly, and who had such bright, deep, quiet
+brown eyes. Margaret, standing in the doorway,
+scrutinised the three, and felt a sinking
+at the heart. Basil Montfort was a tall boy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>
+for his age, slender and wiry, with tow-coloured
+hair that stood straight on end, thin lips that
+curled up at the corners with a suggestion of
+malice, and piercing gray eyes, which he had
+a trick of screwing up till they were like gimlet
+points. The second, Merton, was decidedly
+better-looking, with pretty curly hair, and blue
+eyes with an appealing look in them; but
+Margaret fancied he looked a little sly; and
+straightway took herself to task for the unkind
+fancy. The little girl was Basil over
+again, save that the tow-coloured hair was put
+back with a round comb, and the gray eyes
+widely opened, instead of half shut, when she
+looked at any one. All three children were
+neatly dressed, and all looked as if they were
+not used to their clothes.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Mr. Montfort at last, after a
+long, silent look at each one in turn, "I am
+very glad to see you, children. I hope we
+are going to be good friends. Boys, I was
+a boy myself, just two or three years ago,&mdash;or
+it may be four,&mdash;so you can ask me about
+anything you want to know. Susan, I never
+was a girl, you see, but that need not make<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>
+much difference. Your Cousin Margaret&mdash;oh,
+here <i>is</i> your Cousin Margaret! She will
+be good to you, and&mdash;and in short, you are
+all very welcome to Fernley, and there is a
+swing in the garden, and the rest you can
+find out for yourselves."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret came forward, and shook hands
+with the boys, and kissed the little girl
+warmly. Evidently Susan D. was not used to
+being kissed, for she blushed, and her brothers
+giggled rather rudely, till they caught Mr.
+Montfort's eye, and stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"Young gentlemen," said Uncle John, with
+an emphasis which brought the blood to
+Basil's cheek, "dinner will be ready"&mdash;he
+looked at his watch&mdash;"in an hour. I daresay
+they would like something now, Margaret;
+crackers and cheese, gingerbread,&mdash;what?
+You'll find them something." Mr.
+Montfort nodded kindly, and strode away to
+his study. Margaret was left alone with the
+three strange children, feeling shyer than
+ever before in her life. The meeting with
+the three cousins of her own age, two years
+ago, was nothing to this.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Are you hungry, boys?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Starving!" said Merton.</p>
+
+<p>"He isn't," said Susan D. "He's been
+eating all the way, ever since we left home.
+He's a greedy,&mdash;that's what he is." Then,
+scared at her own voice, she hung her head
+down, and put her finger in her mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well," said Margaret, "I daresay you
+would all be hungry before dinner-time, so
+suppose we come into the pantry and see
+what we can find. Will you come with me,
+Susan, dear?" She held out her hand, but
+the little girl evaded it, and followed in the
+rear, holding her own hands behind her back.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you call me Cousin Margaret?" the
+girl went on. "And shall I call you Susie,
+or do you like Susan better?"</p>
+
+<p>Susan not replying, Basil replied for her.
+"Susan D. we call her; but Puppa calls her
+Sudden Death when she acts bad; she mostly
+does act bad."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't neither!" muttered Susan D., scowling.</p>
+
+<p>"Do teither!" retorted both brothers in a
+breath.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"She ain't shy!" Basil went on. "She's
+sulky, that's all. Merton's shy, and I ain't.
+I'll tell you things, when you ask me; they
+won't, half the time."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I haven't asked you anything, yet,
+have I?" said Margaret, smiling, and feeling
+more at ease with this boy, somehow, than
+with either of the others. "What can you
+tell me that is pleasant about them?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's so!" said Basil, and his lips parted
+suddenly in a smile that positively transfigured
+his plain face. "Well, Mert's the
+best boxer, and he can sing and draw. I'm
+the best runner, of course, 'count of my legs
+being long, you see." He held up a long,
+thin leg for Margaret's inspection. "Some
+fellows called me Spider once, and Susan D.
+scratched their faces for 'em. She's great
+at scratching, Susan D. is."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear!" said poor Margaret. "I
+thought you were going to tell me the
+pleasant things, Basil."</p>
+
+<p>"Ain't I?" said the boy, innocently. "She
+was standing up for me, you see. She always
+stands up for me; Mert is a sne&mdash;&mdash; well, what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
+I was going to say, she's a pretty good runner,
+for a girl, and she can shin a rope too, better
+than any of us. Mert can hang on longest
+with his teeth."</p>
+
+<p>"What <i>do</i> you mean, child?" cried Margaret,
+laughing. Basil flashed his brilliant
+smile on her again.</p>
+
+<p>"Tables," he explained. "Yes, please,
+crackers; and quite a lot of cheese, please."</p>
+
+<p>"Greedy Gobble!" interjected Merton.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I like that!" said Basil. "Who
+ate my sandwich, when I was looking out of <ins title="Transcriber's Note: This word is not present in the original text">the</ins>
+window? I tell you what, I'd punch your
+head for two cents, young feller!"</p>
+
+<p>"Boys," said Margaret, decidedly, "I cannot
+have this! While you are with me, I
+expect you to behave decently."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am!" said both boys, with ready
+cheerfulness; and Basil continued his explanation.</p>
+
+<p>"We see which can hang on to a table
+longest, don't you know, by your teeth. Did
+ever you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I certainly never did; and&mdash;I don't
+think you'd better try it here, Basil. It must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
+be very hard on your teeth, besides ruining
+the table."</p>
+
+<p>"It ain't healthy for the table," Basil
+admitted. "You ought to see the tables at
+home! It makes like a little pattern round
+the edge, sometimes. Quite pretty, I think.
+Say, are you the boss here?"</p>
+
+<p>Seated on the pantry dresser, swinging his
+legs, the young gentleman seemed as much at
+home as if he had spent his life at Fernley.
+The two other children were eating hastily
+and furtively, as if they feared each bite
+might be their last. Basil crunched his
+crackers and nibbled his cheese with an air
+of perfect unconcern. "Are you the boss
+here?" he repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I in authority, do you mean?" asked
+Margaret, who could not abide slang of any
+kind. "No, indeed, Basil. Your Uncle John
+is the head of the house, in every possible
+way. I hope you are all going to be very
+good and obedient. He is the kindest, best
+man in the whole world."</p>
+
+<p>"I think he's bully," said Basil. "I guess
+you're bully too, ain't you? And it's a bully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>
+place. Hi, Mert, there's a squirrel! Look at
+him running up that tree. My! Wish I had
+a pea-shooter!"</p>
+
+<p>"Bet you couldn't hit him if you had!"
+cried Merton, as all three children watched
+the squirrel with breathless interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Bet I could!" said Basil, contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess he could hit it when you couldn't
+hit a barn in the next county!" cried Susan
+D. in a kind of small shriek; then she caught
+Margaret's eye, blushed furiously, and tried
+to get behind her bread and butter.</p>
+
+<p>"I say! can we go out in the garden?"
+cried Basil.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed, but wouldn't you like to
+come up and see your rooms first? Such
+pleasant rooms! I am sure you will like
+them."</p>
+
+<p>But none of the children cared to see the
+pleasant rooms. Receiving permission to play
+till they heard the dinner-bell, they fled
+suddenly, as if the constable were at their
+heels. Margaret saw their legs twinkling
+across the grass-plot. They were yelling like
+red Indians. Susan D.'s hat blew off at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>
+third bound; Basil shied his cap into a bush
+with a joyous whoop, then snatched off his
+brother's and threw that after it. Merton
+grappled him with a shout, and they rolled
+over and over at the feet of their sister, who
+bent down and pummelled them both with
+might and main, shrieking with excitement.
+As Margaret gazed aghast, preparing to fly
+and interfere, she heard a quiet laugh behind
+her, and turning, saw Mr. Montfort looking
+over her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Battle, Murder, and Sudden Death!" he
+said. "Separate them? On no account, my
+dear! They have been shut up for hours,
+and their muscles need stretching. Don't be
+alarmed, my child; I know this kind." Poor
+Margaret sighed. She did not know this
+kind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE FIRST CONQUEST.</h3>
+
+
+<p>When Margaret went to bed that night,
+she felt as if she had been whipped with
+rods. Head, heart, and back, all ached in
+sympathy. The children were in bed; that
+is, she had left them in bed; their staying
+there was another matter; however, all three
+were tired after their journey, and Uncle John
+thought the chances were that they would fall
+asleep before they had time to think of doing
+anything else. Among the three, the little
+girl was the one who oppressed Margaret with
+a sense of defeat, a sense of her own incompetence.
+She had not expected to understand
+the boys; she had never had any experience
+of boys; but she had expected to win the little
+girl to her, and make her a little friend,
+perhaps almost a sister. Susan D. received
+her advances with an elfish coldness that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>
+had something not human in it, Margaret
+thought. The child was like a changeling,
+in the old fairy stories. That evening, when
+bedtime came, Margaret went up with her
+to the pretty room, hoping for a pleasant
+time. She sat down and took the little girl
+on her knee. "Let us have a cuddle, dear!"
+she said; "put your head down on my shoulder,
+and I will sing you one of my own
+bedtime songs, that my nurse used to sing
+to me."</p>
+
+<p>Susan D. sat bold upright, not a yielding
+joint in all her body.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you like songs?" asked Margaret,
+stroking the tow-coloured hair gently.</p>
+
+<p>"No!" said the child; and with the word
+she wriggled off Margaret's lap, and stood
+twisting her fingers awkwardly, and frowning
+at the floor. Margaret sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"Then we will undress and get to bed," she
+said, trying to speak lightly. "You must be
+very tired, little girl. Isn't that a pretty bed?
+Is your bed at home like this? Tell me about
+your room, won't you, Susie?"</p>
+
+<p>But Susan D. still twisted her fingers and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>
+frowned, and would not say a single word.
+She made no resistance, however, when Margaret
+helped her off with her clothes. "You
+are big enough to undress yourself, of course,"
+the girl said, "but I will help you to-night,
+because you are tired, and you must feel
+strange, coming so far away from home.
+Poor little mite!" The child looked so
+small and slight, standing with her dress
+off, and her thin shoulders sticking out
+like wings, that Margaret felt a sudden
+thrill of compassion, and stooping, kissed
+the freckled cheek warmly. The colour came
+into the child's face, but she stood like a stock,
+never moving a muscle, never raising her eyes
+to take note of the pretty, tasteful arrangements
+to which Margaret had given such
+thought and pains. But the undressing
+went on, and presently she was in her little
+nightgown, with her hair unbraided and
+smoothly brushed. She might be pretty,
+Margaret decided, when she filled out a
+little, and had a pleasanter expression. She
+was so little! Surely there must be one more
+effort, this first night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Shall I hear you say your prayers, dear?"
+asked Margaret, taking the child's two hands
+in hers. Susan D. shook her head resolutely.</p>
+
+<p>"No? You like better to say them by yourself?
+Then I will come back in a few minutes,
+and tuck you up in your little nest."</p>
+
+<p>The child gave no sign; and when Margaret
+came back, she was standing in the
+same spot, in the same position. She got
+into bed obediently, and made no resistance
+when Margaret tucked the bedclothes in,
+patted her shoulder, and gave her a last
+good-night kiss. She might as well have
+kissed the pillow for any response there
+was, but at least there had been no shrinking
+this time. "Good night, Susan D.," said
+Margaret, cheerfully, pausing at the door.
+"Good night, dear! Susan, I think you must
+answer when you are spoken to."</p>
+
+<p>"Good night!" said Susan D. Margaret
+shut the door softly and went away. As
+she passed along the corridor that ran
+round the hall, something struck her forehead
+lightly. She looked up, and narrowly
+escaped getting a fish-hook in her eye. Mer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>ton
+looked over the banisters, and smiled appealingly.
+"I was fishin'," he said. "There's
+fish-lines in the drawers of the sofa. I guess I
+'most caught a whale, didn't I?"</p>
+
+<p>"Merton, you must go to bed at once!" said
+Margaret. "How long have you been standing
+there in your nightgown? You might
+catch your death." (It had been one of old
+Katy's maxims that if you stood about in
+your nightgown for however short a time,
+you inevitably got your death. Margaret
+had never doubted it till this moment.) "I
+am coming up now to tuck you both up!"
+she added, with a happy inspiration.</p>
+
+<p>There was a hasty scuffle, then a rush,
+accompanied by smothered squeals. When
+Margaret reached the nursery, both boys
+were in bed. Merton's blue eyes were wide
+open, and fixed on her with mournful earnestness;
+Basil was asleep, the clothes tucked
+in well under his chin. He lay on his back,
+his mouth slightly opened; he was snoring
+gently, but unobtrusively. Poor child! no
+doubt he was tired enough. But how had
+Merton managed to make so <i>much</i> noise?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Margaret looked around her, and Merton's
+gaze grew more intense. His own clothes
+lay in a heap on the floor, but where were
+his brother's? And&mdash;and what was that,
+smoothly folded over the back of a chair?
+A clean nightgown?</p>
+
+<p>But when Merton saw his cousin's eyes fix
+on the nightgown, he exploded in a bubbling
+laugh. "He&mdash;he ain't undressed at all!"
+he cried, gleefully. "He never! he's got his
+boots on, and every single&mdash;" The speech
+got no further. There was a flying whirl of
+blankets, a leap, and Basil was on his brother's
+chest, pounding him with right good will.
+"You sneak!" he cried. "I'll teach you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>There was no time to think; the child
+would be killed before her eyes. Margaret
+took a firm hold on Basil's collar, and dragged
+him off by main strength, he still clawing the
+air. Unconsciously, she gave him a hearty
+shake before she let go; the boy staggered
+back a few paces; who would have thought
+that Margaret had such strength in her slender
+wrists? The crisis over, she panted, and
+felt faint for an instant; Basil, after a moment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>
+of bewilderment, looked at her, and the smile
+broke all over his face, a moment before black
+with rage.</p>
+
+<p>"Got me that time, didn't you?" he said,
+simply. "He's a mean sneak, Mert is. I'll
+serve him out to-morrow, don't you be
+afraid!"</p>
+
+<p>"Basil, what does this mean?" asked
+Margaret, severely. "Why are you not in
+bed?" Then as Basil sent an eloquent glance
+at the pillow where his head had been lying
+so quietly, she added, "Why are you not
+undressed, I mean? I am afraid you have
+been very naughty, both of you, boys."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you see," said Basil, apologetically,
+"there was all kinds of things in the drawers,
+and then I got on the rocking-horse, and it
+wasn't but just a minute before you came up.
+I say, isn't this a bully room, Cousin Margaret?
+I think Uncle John was awfully good
+to give us such a room as this. Why doesn't
+he sleep here himself? Bet I would, if I
+owned the house. I say, do those marbles
+belong to him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose so," said Margaret, smiling in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
+spite of herself; "yes, I am sure they were
+his. But now, Basil,&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, see here!" cried the boy, excitedly.
+"Because, you see, they're worth a lot, some
+of 'em. Why, there's agates,&mdash;why, they
+are perfect beauties! Just look!" He ran
+towards the sofa, but Margaret stopped him
+resolutely.</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow, Basil!" she said. "To-morrow
+you shall show me everything you like; but
+now you must go to bed, this very moment.
+I am pretty tired, but I shall sit outside on
+the landing, till you tell me that you are in
+bed; then I shall come in and make sure for
+myself, and tuck you in."</p>
+
+<p>Basil illuminated the room again. "Will
+you?" he cried. "Honest, will you tuck us
+in?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret nodded, wondering, and withdrew
+to the landing, where she sat with her
+head in her hands, saying to herself, "Let
+nothing disturb thee, nothing affright thee&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Basil spoke through the keyhole. "Cousin
+Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Basil; are you ready so soon?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No, not quite. I wanted to say,&mdash;do you
+think you ought to spank me?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, certainly not, my dear!"</p>
+
+<p>"'Cause you can, if you think you'd better."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, Basil; only do get to bed, like a
+good boy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am."</p>
+
+<p>A sudden plunge was heard, a thump, and
+the agonised shriek of a suffering bedstead.
+"Now I'm in bed!" said Basil. Margaret
+picked up the two heaps of clothing, and laid
+them neatly on two chairs. "I want you to
+do this yourselves after this," she explained.
+"It isn't nice to leave your things on the floor."</p>
+
+<p>"All right!" "We will!" said both boys;
+and then they joined in a fervent appeal to
+her not to turn their knickerbockers upside
+down. "'Cause all the things in your pockets
+spill out," said Merton.</p>
+
+<p>"And then you get 'em mixed, and can't
+tell what belongs where," cried Basil.
+"Thank you, Cousin Margaret; that's bully!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret tucked Merton in first; he looked
+so dimpled and pretty, she was tempted to
+offer a caress, but the recollection of Susan D.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
+kept her from it. Turning away, she came to
+Basil's bed. The boy watched her intently as
+she smoothed the bedclothes with practised
+hand, and tucked them in exactly right, not
+too tight and not too loose. There are several
+ways of tucking a person into bed. With a
+pleasant "Good night!" she was about to
+leave him, but something in the boy's face
+held her. "Is there anything you want, my
+dear?" she asked, gently. Basil looked at
+her; then turned his head away. "Mother
+used to put me to bed!" he muttered, so low
+that Margaret could hardly hear. She did
+hear, however; and instantly stooping over
+the boy, she kissed him warmly. Thank
+Heaven, here was one who did want to be
+loved. "Dear Basil," she said, tenderly.
+"Dear boy, you shall tell me all about her
+some day. Will you?" The boy nodded;
+his eyes were eloquent, but he did not speak.
+Her heart still warm, Margaret looked across
+at Merton; but Basil plucked her gown and
+whispered, "He&mdash;doesn't know. He can't
+remember her. Perhaps you can teach
+him&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Margaret nodded, kissed the boy's white
+forehead once more, and went away with a
+lighter heart than she had brought with her.
+On the floor below she paused to listen at
+Susan's door; all was quiet there. Cousin
+Sophronia was asleep, too, no doubt; Margaret
+had spent part of the evening with her, reading,
+and listening to her doleful prophecies of
+the miseries entailed by the coming of "these
+dreadful children!" It was nearly her own
+bedtime, too, for between Cousin Sophronia
+and the children the evening had slipped away
+all too fast. But surely she might have a few
+minutes of peace and joy? The library door
+stood open; from it there came a stream of
+cheerful light, and the perfume of a Manila
+cigar. Oh, good! Uncle John had not gone
+to his study; he was waiting for her. As she
+passed Miss Sophronia's door, Margaret fancied
+she heard a call; but she was not sure,
+and for once she was rebellious. She flew
+down-stairs, and ran into the library.</p>
+
+<p>The pleasant room lay in shade, save for
+the bright gleam of the reading-lamp. Among
+the books which lined the walls from floor to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
+ceiling, the gilded backs of the smaller volumes
+caught the light and sent it back in soft,
+broken twinklings; but the great brown folios
+on the lower shelves were half lost in a comfortable
+duskiness. The crimson curtains were
+drawn before the open windows, and the evening
+wind waved them lightly now and then,
+sending new shadows to chase the old ones
+along the walls and ceiling. The thick old
+Turkey carpet held every possible shade of
+soft, faded richness, and the brown leather
+armchairs looked as if they had been sat in by
+generations of book-loving Montforts, as indeed
+they had. And amid all this sober comfort,
+by the great library table with its orderly
+litter of magazines and new books, sat Mr.
+John Montfort, book in hand and cigar in
+mouth, a breathing statue of Ease, in a brown
+velvet smoking-jacket. He looked up, and,
+seeing Margaret in the doorway, laid down
+his book, and held out his hand with a gesture
+of welcome. "Well, my girl," he said,
+"come and tell me all about it!"</p>
+
+<p>With a great sigh of relief, Margaret
+dropped on the rug at her uncle's feet, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>
+laid her tired head on his knee. "Uncle
+John!" she said. "Oh, Uncle John!" That
+seemed to be all she wanted to say; she shut
+her eyes, and gave herself up to the comfort
+which only comes with rest after fatigue.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort stroked her hair gently, with
+a touch as light as a woman's. Then he took
+up his book again, and began to read aloud.
+It was a curious old book, bound in black
+leather, with great silver clasps.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"In that isle is a dead sea or lake, that has no
+bottom; and if any thing falls into it, it will never
+come up again. In that lake grow reeds, which
+they call Thaby, that are thirty fathoms long; and
+of these reeds they make fair houses. And there
+are other reeds, not so long, that grow near the land,
+and have roots full a quarter of a furlong long or
+more, at the knots of which roots precious stones
+are found that have great virtues; for he who carries
+any of them upon him may not be hurt by iron or
+steel; and therefore they who have those stones on
+them fight very boldly both by sea and land; and
+therefore, when their enemies are aware of this, they
+shoot at them darts without iron or steel, and so hurt
+and slay them. And also of those reeds they make
+houses and ships and other things, as we here make<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
+houses and ships of oak, or of any other tree. And
+let no man think I am joking, for I have seen these
+reeds with my own eyes."</p></div>
+
+<p>The words flowed on and on; Margaret felt
+her troubles smoothing themselves out, melting
+away. "Who is this pleasant person?"
+she asked, without raising her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir John Mandeville," said her uncle.
+"Rest a bit still, and we'll go and see the
+Chan of Cathay with him. Here we are!"
+He turned a page or two, and read again:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"The emperor has his table alone by himself,
+which is of gold and precious stones; or of crystal,
+bordered with gold and full of precious stones; or
+of amethysts, or of lignum aloes, that comes out of
+Paradise; or of ivory bound or bordered with gold.
+And under the emperor's table sit four clerks, who
+write all that the emperor says, be it good or evil;
+for all that he says must be held good; for he may
+not change his word nor revoke it."</p></div>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I shouldn't like that, Uncle
+John!" cried Margaret. "I shouldn't like
+that at all! Should you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think it would be agreeable," Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>
+Montfort admitted. "But when we come to
+anything we don't like, we can suppose that
+Sir John was&mdash;shall we call it embroidering?
+And how does my girl feel now? Are the
+wrinkles smoothing out at all?"</p>
+
+<p>"All smooth!" replied the girl. "All
+gone, Uncle John. I was only a little tired;
+and&mdash;Uncle John&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear child."</p>
+
+<p>"You must expect that I shall do a great
+many wrong things, at first. I am very ignorant,
+and&mdash;well, not very old, perhaps. If
+only I can make the children love me!"</p>
+
+<p>"They'd better love you," said Uncle John.
+"If they don't, they'll get the stick. But don't
+fret, Margaret; I am not going to fret, and I
+shall not let you do it. The little girl seems
+slightly abnormal, at first sight; but the
+boys&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Uncle John?" and Margaret raised
+her head and looked eagerly at her uncle,
+hoping for some light that would make all
+clear to her. "The boys?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, the boys are just boys, my dear;
+nothing in the world but plain boys. Two of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
+'em instead of four,&mdash;thank your stars that
+you are in this generation instead of the last,
+my love; and now take this little head off to
+bed, and don't let another anxious thought
+come into it. Good night, my child."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+
+<h3>A NEWCOMER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"If you please, Miss Margaret, the lady
+would like to speak to you, in her room."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Montfort?" (Elizabeth never would
+call Miss Sophronia Miss Montfort.) "Yes,
+Elizabeth, I will be up in a moment; tell her,
+please."</p>
+
+<p>Hastily pinning her collar,&mdash;it was near
+breakfast-time, and she had been longer than
+usual in dressing,&mdash;Margaret ran up to the
+Blue Room. Miss Sophronia, in curl-papers
+and a long, yellow wrapper, was standing near
+the window, apparently rigid with horror.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Cousin Sophronia? What
+can I do for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Margaret, I told you,&mdash;I warned you. I
+warned John Montfort. No one can say
+that I neglected my duty in this respect;
+my conscience is clear. Now look,&mdash;I desire<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>
+you, look out of that window, and tell me
+what you think."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret looked. At first she saw nothing
+but the clear glass, and, beyond it, the blue
+sky and waving trees. But, looking again,
+she became aware of two objects dangling
+over the upper part of the pane; a black
+object, and a white object; two small legs,
+one bare, the other in stocking and shoe.
+The legs were swinging back and forth,
+keeping time to a clear and lively whistle,
+and now and then one of them gave a little
+kick, as of pure content.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you see?" demanded Miss Sophronia,
+in tragic tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Cousin Sophronia, I see. I can't
+think&mdash;but I'll run up at once and see what
+it means, and bring the child down. I&mdash;"
+Margaret waited to say no more, but flew
+up-stairs, only pausing to cast a hasty glance
+into Susan D.'s room, the door of which
+stood open. The room was empty; so, when
+she reached the top of the stairs, was the
+nursery. She entered a small room that
+was used as a storeroom; its one window<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>
+looked directly on the roof, and this window
+stood wide open. Running to look out,
+Margaret saw Susan D., seated astride of a
+gable, dangling her legs as aforesaid, and
+apparently enjoying herself immensely. The
+whistle stopped when she saw her cousin, and
+the cheerful look gave place to one of sullenness.</p>
+
+<p>"Susan, my dear child, what are you doing
+here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Looking for my other stocking," replied
+the child.</p>
+
+<p>"Your stocking?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I dropped it out of the window,
+and I came up here to look for it."</p>
+
+<p>"She thought she could see better!" explained
+Basil, appearing suddenly from behind
+the chimney. "I&mdash;good morning,
+Cousin Margaret. I slept very well, thank
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"So did I!" chimed in Susan D., with
+suspicious readiness. "I slept very well.
+Good morning, Cousin Margaret, thank
+you!"</p>
+
+<p>"That isn't right," said Basil, as Mar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>garet
+looked in bewilderment from one to
+the other; "you are such a stupid, Susan D.
+You see," he added, turning to Margaret,
+"I've been telling her that she's got to
+have better manners, and speak when she's
+spoken to; and, if she behaves pretty well,
+she's going to get some hard stamps she
+wants; and if she doesn't&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I am," said Susan D. "Amn't I, Cousin
+Margaret?"</p>
+
+<p>It was the first time the child had addressed
+Margaret directly, and the latter
+hastened to assure her that her morning
+greeting would do very well indeed. "But,
+dear children," she cried, "I cannot let you
+stay here. Indeed, you ought never to have
+come up; I don't believe Uncle John would
+like to have you on the roof at all; and
+it is breakfast-time, and Cousin Sophronia
+has been a good deal frightened, Susie, at
+seeing your legs dangling over her window
+in this fashion."</p>
+
+<p>"We aren't hurting the old roof!" cried
+boy and girl, in eager self-defence.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my dears! It isn't the roof, it's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
+your precious necks, that you might be
+breaking at this moment. How are you
+going to get back? Basil, it makes me
+dizzy to look at you."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I wouldn't look," said Basil, cheerfully.
+"I'm all right, Cousin Margaret, just
+truly I am. Why, I just live on roofs, every
+chance I get. And this is a bully roof to
+climb on."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret covered her eyes with her hands,
+as the boy came tripping along the ridge-pole
+towards her; but the next moment she put
+the hands down resolutely. "Let me help
+you!" she said. "Susan, take my hand,
+dear, and let me help you in."</p>
+
+<p>But Susan D. needed no helping hand; she
+scrambled up the slope of the roof like a
+squirrel, and wriggled in at the window
+before Margaret could lay hands on her.
+"I'm all right!" she said, shyly. "I didn't
+find my stocking, though. I'll get another
+pair." But Margaret soon found the stocking,
+and in due time could report to Cousin
+Sophronia that the children were both safe
+on the ground, and more or less ready for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
+breakfast. Merton had not shared in the roof
+expedition; he had climbed the great chestnut-tree
+instead, and appeared at breakfast
+with most of the buttons off his jacket, and
+a large barn-door tear in his knickerbockers.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sophronia greeted the children with
+firmness. "How do you do, my dears?" she
+said. "I am your Cousin Sophronia, and I
+shall take the place of a mamma to you while
+you are here. If you do as I tell you, we shall
+get on very well, I dare say. You are Basil?
+Yes, you look like your Uncle Reuben. You
+remember Reuben, John? What a troublesome
+boy he was, to be sure! And this is
+Merton. H'm! Yes! The image of his
+father. Anthony; to be sure! And what
+is your name, child? Susan D.? Ah, yes!
+For your Aunt Susan, of course. And are
+you a good girl, Susan D.?"</p>
+
+<p>Susan D. hung her head, and looked
+defiant.</p>
+
+<p>"Always answer when you are spoken to,"
+said the lady, with mild severity. "I'm afraid
+your father has let you run wild; but we will
+alter all that. Little boy&mdash;Merton, I mean,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>
+you are taking too much sugar on your porridge.
+Too much sugar is very bad for children.
+Hand me the bowl, if you please.
+I am obliged to take a good deal of sugar&mdash;the
+doctor's orders! There are one&mdash;two&mdash;three
+buttons off your jacket. This will
+never do!"</p>
+
+<p>"I scraped 'em off, shinning up the tree,"
+said Merton, sadly. "I barked all my shins,
+too; but I found the squirrel's nest."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Merton, you didn't meddle with it?"
+cried Margaret. "That little squirrel is so
+tame, I should be very sorry to have him
+teased. You didn't tease him, did you,
+dear?"</p>
+
+<p>Merton looked injured. "I just put my
+hand into his old hole, and he bit me, nasty
+thing! I'll kill him, first chance I get."</p>
+
+<p>"You will do nothing of the kind," said
+Mr. Montfort, quietly. "You will let the
+squirrel alone, Merton, or I shall have to
+stop the climbing altogether. You understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," said Merton. "Ow! you stop
+that, now!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Did you speak to me, sir?" inquired Mr.
+Montfort, politely.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he kicked my sore shin," growled
+Merton, glaring savagely at Basil. Basil
+chuckled gleefully. Mr. Montfort looked
+from one to the other.</p>
+
+<p>"Kick each other as much as you like out-of-doors,"
+he said. "Here, you can either
+behave yourselves or leave the table. Take
+your choice." He spoke very quietly, and
+went on with his letter, without another
+glance at the boys; indeed, no second glance
+was needed, for the children behaved remarkably
+well through the rest of breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>That morning was a trying time for Margaret.
+She tried hard to remember her
+uncle's parting words, as he drove away:
+"Let them run, these first few days, and
+don't worry; above all, don't worry!"</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 272px;">
+<img src="images/gs05.png" width="272" height="400" alt="&quot;MERTON WAS TEASING CHIQUITO.&quot;" title="&quot;MERTON WAS TEASING CHIQUITO.&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;MERTON WAS TEASING CHIQUITO.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Yes, but how could she help worrying? If
+it had been only running! But these children
+never seemed content to stay on their feet for
+ten minutes together. Now they were turning
+somersaults round and round the grass-plot,
+till her head grew dizzy, and Cousin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
+Sophronia screamed from the window that
+they would all be dead of apoplexy in less
+than ten minutes. Now they were hanging
+by their heels from the lower branches of the
+horse-chestnut tree, daring each other to turn
+a somersault in the air and so descend. Now
+Merton was teasing Chiquito, and getting his
+finger bitten, and howling, while Basil jeered
+at him, and wanted to know whether a sixty-year-old
+bird was likely to stand "sauce"
+from a ten-year-old monkey. Now Susan D.
+had caught her frock on a bramble, and torn
+a long, jagged rent across the front breadth,
+that filled Margaret with despair. Poor
+Susan D.! By afternoon, Miss Sophronia
+had taken her into custody, and marched
+her off to her own room, to stay there till
+bedtime.</p>
+
+<p>"The child was rebellious, my dear Margaret;
+positively disrespectful. A little discipline,
+my love, is what that child needs. It is
+my duty to give it to her, and I shall do my
+duty cheerfully. At your age, it is not to be expected
+that you should know anything about
+children. Leave all to me, and you will be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
+surprised at the result. A firm rein for a few
+weeks,&mdash;I shall manage her, never fear!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret was humble-minded, and fully
+conscious of her total lack of experience; still,
+she could not feel that a system of repression
+was the one most likely to succeed with
+Susan D.</p>
+
+<p>"If we could win the child's affection," she
+began, timidly. Miss Sophronia pounced upon
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"My love, you naturally think so! Believe
+me, I know what I am talking about. I have
+practically brought up William's children;
+the result is astonishing, everybody says
+so." (Everybody did, but their astonishment
+was hardly what the good lady fancied it.)
+"Trust,&mdash;dearest Margaret, simply confide
+absolutely in me! So important, I always
+say, for the young to have entire confidence
+in their elders."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret was thankful when dinner was
+over, and her cousin gone to take her afternoon
+nap. Basil was in a lowering mood,
+the result of his sister's imprisonment. He
+would do nothing but rage against Cousin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
+Sophronia, so Margaret was finally obliged to
+send him away, and sit down with a sigh
+to her work, alone.</p>
+
+<p>It was very pleasant and peaceful on the
+verandah. The garden was hot and sunny at
+this hour, but here the shade lay cool and
+grateful, and Margaret felt the silence like
+balm on her fretted spirit. It was all wrong
+that she should be so fretted; she argued with
+herself, scolded, tried to bring herself to a
+better frame of mind; but nature was too
+strong for her, and the best she could do was
+to resolve that she would try, and keep on trying,
+her very best; and that Uncle John
+should not know how worried she was. That,
+surely, she could manage: to keep a smiling
+face when he was at home, and to made light
+of all these hourly pin-pricks that seemed to
+her sensitive nature like sword-thrusts.</p>
+
+<p>So quiet! Only the sound of the soft wind
+in the great chestnut-trees, and the clear notes
+of a bird in the upper branches. A rose-breasted
+grosbeak! Her uncle had been
+teaching her something about birds, and she
+knew this beautiful creature, and loved to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
+watch him as he hovered about the nest
+where his good wife sat. His song was
+almost like the oriole's, Margaret thought.
+She laid down her embroidery, and watched
+the flashes of crimson appear and disappear.
+What a wonderful, beautiful thing! How
+good to live in the green country, where
+lovely sights and sounds were one's own, all
+day long. Why should one let oneself be
+distressed, even if things did not go just to
+one's mind?</p>
+
+<p>A soft cloud seemed to be stealing over her
+spirit; it was not sleep, but just a waking
+dream, of peace and beauty, and the love of
+all lovely things in the green and blossoming
+world, where life floated by to the music of
+birds,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon, Miss Margaret; were
+you asleep, miss?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret sat upright, and looked a little
+severe. It would never do even to look as if
+she had been asleep, in the middle of the afternoon.
+"No, Elizabeth," she said. "What is
+wanted?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only miss, Frances was wishful to know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
+whether she should keep Master Merton's dinner
+any longer, or whether she'd cook something
+fresh for him along with his supper."</p>
+
+<p>No more dreaming for Margaret! She
+sprang to her feet, suddenly conscious of the
+fact that Merton had not been seen for several
+hours. It could not have been more than
+eleven o'clock when he was in her room;
+now&mdash; "What time is it, Elizabeth?"</p>
+
+<p>"Going on five, Miss Margaret. Mr. Montfort'll
+soon be here, miss; maybe Master
+Merton might have gone to meet him."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret shook her head; that did not
+seem at all likely. She hailed Basil, who
+came sauntering up the gravel walk, his
+brow still clouded, kicking the pebbles before
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Basil, have you seen Merton? He
+has not been in the house since this morning,
+and I am anxious about him."</p>
+
+<p>Basil shrugged his shoulders. "Run away,
+most likely!" he said, carelessly. "He's
+always running away, Mert is."</p>
+
+<p>"Always running away! But where could
+he run to, Basil? He does not know his way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
+about here. He surely would not run away
+in a strange place."</p>
+
+<p>Basil smiled superior. "That's just why
+he'd do it. He likes to find out new places;
+we both do. I wouldn't leave Susan D., or
+I'd have gone, too, bet I would. No use
+staying here, to be bossed round."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Basil, don't talk so, but help me, like
+a dear boy, to find Merton."</p>
+
+<p>Basil stood uncertain. He raised a threatening
+glance towards Miss Sophronia's window;
+but Margaret was beside him in a moment.
+"Basil, to please me!" she said. She laid
+her hand on the boy's shoulder. He stood
+still, and Margaret had a moment of painful
+doubt; but the next instant he raised his face
+to her with his own enchanting smile. "All
+right!" he said. "You are all right, Cousin
+Margaret, whatever other folks are, and I'll
+help you every single bit I can."</p>
+
+<p>"That's my good, helpful boy!" said Margaret,
+heartily. "Oh, Basil, you and I together
+can do a great deal, but alone I feel
+rather helpless. You shall be my little&mdash;no,
+not little&mdash;you shall be my brother, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>
+tell me how to manage Merton and Susan, and
+make them love me. But the first thing is to
+find Merton. What can have become of the
+child? Where shall we look for him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think perhaps down by the bog," said
+Basil, looking very important and pleased
+with his new responsibility. "He said he
+was going down there, first chance he got.
+I meant to go, too, but I won't if you don't
+want me to, Cousin Margaret. There's a
+bully&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Basil!"</p>
+
+<p>"There's a&mdash;a superb workman down
+there; do you know him, Cousin Margaret?
+I guess he's the boss, or something. He wears
+blue overalls and a blue jumper, and he can
+vault&mdash;oh my! how that fellow can vault!"</p>
+
+<p>"Basil, I don't feel at all sure that your
+uncle would wish you to be talking with
+strange workmen. At any rate, I think you
+ought to ask leave, don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe I ought!" said Basil, cheerfully.
+"But it's too late now, you see, 'cause I have
+talked to him, quite lots, and he's awfully
+jolly. Oh, Jonah! I do believe there he is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>
+now; and&mdash;Cousin Margaret! I do believe
+he's got Mert with him! Look!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret looked. A man was coming
+across the field that lay beyond the garden
+wall; a workingman, from his blue overalls
+and jumper; a young man, from the way he
+moved, and from his light, springy step.
+Margaret could not see his face, but his hair
+was red; she could see that over the burden
+that he carried in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>Coming nearer, this burden was seen to be
+a child. A chimney-sweeper? No, for chimney-sweepers
+are not necessarily wet; do not
+drip black mud from head to foot; do not
+run streams of black bog water.</p>
+
+<p>"Merton!" cried poor Margaret, who knew
+well the look of that mud and water. "Oh,
+what has happened? Is&mdash;is he hurt?" she
+cried out, running towards the wall.</p>
+
+<p>The young workman raised a cheerful face,
+streaked with black, and presenting the appearance
+of a light-hearted savage in trim for
+a funeral.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit hurt!" he called in return.
+"All right, only wet, and a trifle muddy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>
+Little chap's had a bath, that's all. Hope
+you haven't been anxious about him."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I have been anxious&mdash;thank you!
+You are sure&mdash;he has not been in danger?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well," the stranger admitted, "just as
+well I was there, perhaps. It isn't a safe
+place for children, you see. How are you
+now, old chap? He was a bit dizzy when I
+picked him up, you see."</p>
+
+<p>Merton lifted his black head, and looked
+ruefully at Margaret.</p>
+
+<p>"You told me not to go!" he said. "I
+won't go again."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I guess you won't!" cried Basil,
+excitedly. "Why, you've been in all over; it's
+all up to your chin, and some of it's on the
+back of your head. I say, you must&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The young man made him a sign quickly.
+"He's all right!" he said. "Mud baths extremely
+hygienic; recommended by the medical
+fraternity; a&mdash;where did you say I should
+put him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I beg your pardon!" cried Margaret.
+"I am letting you hold him all this time, and
+you are getting all wet, too."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No consequence, not the least in the world.
+Besides,&mdash;past participle perhaps more appropriate
+than present."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret led the way to the verandah, and
+the stranger finally deposited his burden on
+the steps. Looking down at himself, he
+seemed for the first time aware of his singular
+appearance, for he blushed, and, lifting
+his cap, was turning away with a muttered
+apology, in which the word "clothes" was
+the only word Margaret could hear.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" she cried, "you are not going yet!
+I&mdash;I have not thanked you! You have
+saved the child's life, I know you have. I&mdash;I
+have seen something of that bog," she
+shuddered. "Mr. Montfort will want to see
+you, and thank you himself. Do at least tell
+me your name, so that we may know who it is
+that has done us this great service."</p>
+
+<p>But here the young man caught sight of his
+face, reflected in a window-pane, and lost the
+last vestige of self-possession. "If&mdash;if you'll
+excuse me," he cried, "I think I'll go before
+Mr. Montfort comes. The costume of a Mohawk
+on the war-path&mdash;effective, but unusual;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
+a&mdash;call to-morrow if I may, to see if the
+little chap is all right. Mr. Montfort kindly
+asked me&mdash;good day!"</p>
+
+<p>"But you haven't told her your name!"
+Basil shouted after him.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! Of course!&mdash;a&mdash;Merryweather!
+Gerald Merryweather."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+
+<h3>"I MUST HELP MYSELF."</h3>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">"<span class="smcap">Dear Margaret</span>:
+
+<p>"I find a telegram here which obliges me to run on
+to Philadelphia at once. I may be away all the week;
+do as well as you can, dear child, and don't let B., M.,
+and S. D. tear you to pieces. I forgot to tell you
+that the young man in charge of the bog-draining
+turns out to be the son of an old friend of mine,
+Miles Merryweather. I asked him to come up to
+the house; if he should come while I am away, you
+will be good to him. I will let you know by telegraph
+when to expect me.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span style="margin-right: 4em;">"Always affectionately yours,</span><br />
+"<span class="smcap">John Montfort.</span>"<br />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Margaret read this brief letter with a sinking
+heart. How was she to keep up without
+Uncle John? How was she to cope with all
+the difficulties that beset her path like sharp-thorned
+briers? If she had but Aunt Faith<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>&mdash;if
+she had but some one to turn to! She had
+tried to take counsel with Mrs. Peyton, but
+the beautiful woman was still, at fifty, a spoiled
+child, far younger in many ways than Margaret
+herself; she would only laugh, and
+advise her to get rid of Miss Sophronia by
+some trick, or practical joke.</p>
+
+<p>"Freeze her out, my dear! Get rid of her,
+somehow! That is all the advice I can give
+you. And bring the young barbarians to see
+me; I am sure they will amuse me."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret had just been acting on this last
+request. She had taken the two boys to see
+the invalid, and had left them there now, coming
+away with a sore and angry heart. Mrs.
+Peyton had been drawing the children out,
+laughing at their remarks about their cousin,
+and paying no regard to Margaret's entreaties.
+At length Margaret had simply come away,
+with no more than a brief "Good afternoon!"
+feeling that she could not trust herself to say
+more. Emily Peyton only laughed; she had
+full confidence in her charm, and thought she
+could bring back her puritanical little friend
+whenever she chose to smile in a particular<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
+way; meanwhile, the children were a new toy,
+and amused her.</p>
+
+<p>But Margaret felt that she had had almost
+enough of Mrs. Peyton. Beauty was a great
+deal, charm and grace were a great deal more;
+but they did not take the place of heart. No,
+there was no one to help her! Well, then she
+must help herself, that was all!</p>
+
+<p>She stood still, her mind full of this new
+thought. She was eighteen years old; she
+was well and strong, and possessed of average
+intelligence. "Look here!" she said suddenly,
+aloud. "If you cannot manage those children,
+why, I am ashamed of you. Do you
+hear?"</p>
+
+<p>The other self, the timid one, did hear, and
+took heart. The girl felt new strength coming
+to her. The world had changed, somehow;
+the giants,&mdash;were they only windmills,
+after all? Up, lance, and at them!</p>
+
+<p>In this changed mood she went on, humming
+a little song to herself. As she drew
+near the wood that skirted the bog, the song
+was answered by another, trolled in a cheerful
+bass voice:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"The lady was pleased for to see him so bold;<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">She gave him her glove that was flowered with gold;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">She said she had found it while walking around,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">As she was a-hunting with her dog and her gun."</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='unindent'>The "blue boy," as she mentally called him,
+came dancing out of the wood, throwing up
+his cap, and singing as he came. At sight of
+Margaret he paused, in some confusion, cap
+in hand.</div>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I beg your pardon," he said. "I trust
+I did not disturb you with my carol? There
+isn't generally any one here, you know; I get
+rather to feel as if it all belonged to me. I
+hope the little chap is all right to-day, Miss&mdash;Is
+it Miss Montfort?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes! Certainly!" said Margaret,
+blushing in her turn. "I ought to have said,
+of course&mdash;yes, thank you, Mr. Merryweather,
+Merton is quite well to-day; and I really think
+he has had a lesson, for he has not run away
+since, and it is two or three days ago. I&mdash;my
+uncle has been suddenly called away on
+business, but he asked me to say&mdash;that is, we
+shall be very glad to see you at the house any
+day; Miss Montfort, his cousin,&mdash;my uncle's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>
+cousin,&mdash;is there with me and the children."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks awfully," murmured Gerald. "I'd
+like to come ever so much, some day; but I
+keep all in a mess so&mdash;" he glanced down
+ruefully at his blue clothes, and finding them
+quite respectably clean, brightened visibly.
+"My father was at school with Mr. Montfort;
+Miles Merryweather, perhaps he told you,
+Miss Montfort?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he told me. I&mdash;I always think
+Uncle John must have been such a delightful
+boy. I am sure they must have had good
+times together."</p>
+
+<p>"So was the Pater, no end; I mean, my
+father was an agreeable youth also." Gerald
+stopped short, and glanced sidelong at
+the young girl. He was well used to girls,
+having sisters and cousins; but they were used
+to him, too, and he somehow felt that this
+sweet, serious-looking maiden was not accustomed
+to young men, and that he must, as he
+silently put it to himself, "consider the prudent
+P, and the quaintly quiggling Q."</p>
+
+<p>"And Uncle John must have been a bril<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>liant
+scholar!" Margaret went on, warming
+to her subject. She had never, as it happened,
+walked and talked with a lad before in her
+quiet life; she did not know quite how to do
+it, but so long as she talked about Uncle John,
+she could not go wrong. "He knows so much,&mdash;so
+much that he must have learned early,
+because it is so a part of him. Wasn't he
+head of his class most of the time? He never
+will talk about it, but I am sure he must have
+been."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not so sure about that," Gerald
+admitted; "I know he was the best wrestler,
+and that he and my father were generally
+neck and neck in all the running races. He
+was a better high kick, because his legs were
+longer, don't you know, but the Pater was
+ahead in boxing."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret was bewildered. Was this scholarship?
+Was this the record that brilliant
+boys left behind them? She gave a little
+sigh; the mention of long legs brought her
+back to Basil again. Dear Basil! he had only
+one pair of knickerbockers left that was fit
+to be seen. She ought to be mending the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
+corduroys this moment, in case he should come
+home all in pieces, as he was apt to do.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you any little brothers, Mr. Merryweather?"
+she asked, following the thread of
+her thought.</p>
+
+<p>"One; Willy. That is, he's not so very
+little now, but he's a good bit younger than
+Phil and I; Phil is my twin. Willy&mdash;oh, I
+suppose he must be fourteen, or somewhere
+about there, to a field or two."</p>
+
+<p>"Basil is twelve," said Margaret, thoughtfully.
+"And does he&mdash;or did he, two years
+ago,&mdash;I suppose a boy develops very quickly,&mdash;did
+he want to be climbing and jumping
+and running <i>all</i> the time?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see!" said Gerald, gravely. "Why&mdash;yes,
+I should say so, Miss Montfort. Of
+course he stops now and then to eat; and then
+there's the time that he's asleep, you know;
+you have to take out that. But otherwise,&mdash;yes,
+I should say you had described Willy's
+existence pretty well."</p>
+
+<p>"And climbing on roofs?" Margaret went
+on. "And tumbling into bogs, and turning
+somersaults? What <i>can</i> be the pleasure of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
+turning oneself wrong side up and getting the
+blood into one's head?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret stopped suddenly, and the colour
+rushed into her face; no need of somersaults
+in her case. For had not this young man
+been turning somersaults the first time she
+saw him? And turning them in the same
+senseless way, just for the joy of it, apparently?
+She glanced at him, and he was
+blushing too; but he met her look of distress
+with one so comic in its quizzical appeal, that
+she laughed in spite of herself.</p>
+
+<p>"I love to turn somersaults!" he murmured.
+"'Twas the charm of my chirping
+childhood; it is now the solace of my age.
+Don't be severe, Miss Montfort. I turn them
+now, sometimes; I will not deceive you."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! oh, yes, I know!" said Margaret,
+timidly, but still laughing in spite of herself.
+"I&mdash;I saw you the other day, Mr. Merryweather.
+I thought&mdash;you seemed to be enjoying
+yourself very much."</p>
+
+<p>"No! Did you, though?" cried Gerald. "I
+say! Where was it? I never meant to do it
+when people were round. I'm awfully sorry."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no!" said Margaret, confused. "Why
+shouldn't you? It&mdash;it was by the edge of
+the bog. I had come round that way, and
+you were leaping with a pole about the bog,
+and I&mdash;stayed to watch you. I hope you
+don't mind;" this foolish girl was blushing
+again furiously, which was most unnecessary;
+"and&mdash;I thought you must be
+a foreigner; I don't know why. And&mdash;and
+then you came out, and turned a somersault,
+and&mdash;I wondered why, that was all. You
+see, I never had a brother, and I have never
+known any boys in all my life till now. I
+don't mean that you are a boy, of course!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I <i>am!</i>" cried Gerald. "What
+else am I but a boy? I wish they could hear
+you at home. Why, I'm just Jerry, you know,
+and&mdash;and I've always been that kind of boy,
+I'm afraid; just like Willy, only a good deal
+worse. And now&mdash;well, I've been through
+college, and now I'm in the School of Mines,
+and I'm twenty-one, and all that, but I can't
+seem to make myself feel any older, don't you
+know. I don't know what's going to become
+of me. Hilda says I won't grow up till I fall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>&mdash;oh!
+you don't know Hilda, do you, Miss
+Montfort?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda?" repeated Margaret. "I only
+know Hilda in the 'Marble Faun.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Hildegarde Merryweather; Hildegarde
+Grahame she used to be. I thought you
+might possibly have&mdash;well, she's my aunt
+according to the flesh. I wish you did know
+her!"</p>
+
+<p>"Your aunt? Is she&mdash;is she about Uncle
+John's age? I know so few people, you see.
+I have lived a very quiet life."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no! She&mdash;well, I suppose she's a
+little older than you, but not very much.
+She married Roger, don't you know. He's
+my half-uncle all right, but he's ever so many
+years younger than the Pater, nearer our age,
+you might almost say; and Hildegarde and
+the girls, my sisters,&mdash;I say! I wish you
+knew them all, Miss Montfort."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I did," said Margaret, simply.
+"There are no girls of my own age near
+here. Last year I had my cousins, and I
+miss them so much!"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you must!" said sympathetic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>
+Gerald. "Girls are no end&mdash;I&mdash;I mean,
+I like them too, ever so much." He paused,
+and wished he knew the right thing to say.
+How pretty and sweet she was! Not like
+Hilda, of course (Hilda was this young man's
+ideal of what a girl should be), but with a
+little quiet way of her own that was very
+nice. She must have no end of a time of it
+with these youngsters! He spoke his thought
+aloud. They were nearing Fernley, and he
+must leave her soon. "You must be having
+some difficulty with those youngsters, Miss
+Montfort. If I could help you any time, I
+wish you'd let me know. There have always
+been such a lot of us at home, I'm used to
+most kinds of children, you see; and I should
+be ever so glad&mdash;"</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 270px;">
+<img src="images/gs06.png" width="270" height="400" alt="&quot;&#39;Won&#39;t you come in?&#39;&quot;" title="&quot;&#39;Won&#39;t you come in?&#39;&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;&#39;Won&#39;t you come in?&#39;&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Oh, thank you!" said Margaret, gratefully.
+"I am sure you are very kind; and
+if you would advise me sometimes&mdash;now
+that Uncle John is away&mdash;I should be most
+grateful. But&mdash;I ought to be able to manage
+them myself, it seems to me, without help.
+If I can only make them love me!" She
+looked straight at Gerald, and her dark gray<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>
+eyes were very wistful in their unconscious
+appeal.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to see 'em not!" said the young
+man, straightway. "Little beggars! They
+couldn't help themselves!" He was about
+to add that he would thrash them handsomely
+if they did not love her, but pulled
+himself together, and blushed to his ears, and
+was only comforted by seeing out of the tail
+of his eye that the girl was wholly unconscious
+of his blushes. After all, there was
+some sense in freckles and sunburn.</p>
+
+<p>But here they were now at the gates of
+Fernley. "Won't you come in?" said Margaret.
+But Gerald, becoming once more
+conscious of his working-clothes, which he
+had entirely forgotten, excused himself. If
+he might come some evening soon? Yes, he
+might, and should. He lingered still a moment,
+and Margaret, after a moment's shyness, held
+out her hand frankly. "I am so glad to know
+you!" she said, simply. "Uncle John&mdash;Mr.
+Montfort said I was to be good to you, and
+I will try."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure you couldn't be anything else!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>
+said Gerald, with fervour. "Thanks, awfully,
+Miss Montfort. Good-bye!" Lifting his cap,
+the young man turned away, feeling homesick,
+and yet cheerful. Passing round the
+corner of the house, and finding himself well
+out of sight of the young girl, he relieved his
+feelings by turning a handspring; and on
+coming to his feet again, encountered the
+awful gaze of two greenish eyes, bent upon
+him from an upper window of the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Now I've done it!" said the youth, brushing
+himself, and assuming all the dignity of
+which he was master. "Wonder who that
+is? Housekeeper, perhaps? Quite the Gorgon,
+whoever it is. Wish I didn't turn over
+so easily."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret went into the house singing, with
+a lighter heart than she had felt since Uncle
+John's letter came. Perhaps she had made
+a friend; at any rate, a pleasant acquaintance.
+What a frank, nice, gentlemanly&mdash;boy! "For
+he is a boy, just as he says!" she acknowledged
+to herself. And what kind, honest
+eyes he had; and how thoughtful to offer to
+help her with the children!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Her pleasant meditations were harshly interrupted.
+Miss Sophronia came down-stairs,
+with her brown and yellow shawl drawn over
+her shoulders; this, Margaret had learned,
+was a bad sign.</p>
+
+<p>"Margaret, who was that young man? I
+saw you! There is no use in attempting to
+conceal anything from me, my dear. I saw
+you talking with a young man at the gate."</p>
+
+<p>"Why should I conceal it?" asked Margaret,
+wondering. "It was Mr. Merryweather,
+Cousin Sophronia. He was a
+schoolmate of Uncle John's,&mdash;I mean his
+father was."</p>
+
+<p>"Stuff and nonsense!" cried the lady,
+sharply. "Don't tell me anything of the
+kind, miss. He was a common workman,
+a day-labourer. I tell you I saw him! Do
+you suppose I have no eyes in my head? I
+shall consider it my duty to tell your uncle
+as soon as he comes home. I am surprised at
+you, Margaret. I thought at least you were
+discreet. William's daughters would no more
+think of talking with such a person&mdash;but
+that comes of leaving a young person alone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>
+here with servants. My dear, I shall make
+it a point henceforward&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She stopped; for the gentle Margaret
+turned upon her with eyes of fire. "Cousin
+Sophronia, I cannot listen to this; I will not
+listen! I am a gentlewoman, and must be
+spoken to as a gentlewoman. I am eighteen
+years old, and am accountable to no one except
+Uncle John for my behaviour. Let me pass,
+please! I want to go to my room."</p>
+
+<p>The girl swept by, her head high, her
+cheeks burning with righteous wrath. Miss
+Sophronia gazed after her speechless; it was
+as if a dove had ruffled its wings and flown in
+her face. "Ungrateful girl!" said the lady
+to herself. "I never meet with anything but
+ingratitude wherever I go. She is as bad as
+those girls of William's, for all her soft looks.
+The human heart is very, very depraved. But
+I shall do my duty, in spite of everything."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SECOND CONQUEST.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The boys came home late for tea that
+night, bubbling over with joy. Basil declared
+that they did not want any supper.
+"Mrs. Peyton gave us some of her supper.
+I say, Cousin Margaret, isn't she bully?"</p>
+
+<p>"Basil, if you <i>could</i> find another adjective
+now and then! I cannot imagine anything
+less appropriate to Mrs. Peyton than&mdash;the
+one you used."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well, it doesn't matter! She <i>is</i>
+bully! She had broiled chicken, a whole
+one, and she just took a little piece off the
+breast for herself, and then she told Mert and
+me each to take a leg and run. And we did!
+And Mert sat down in the china bath-tub
+with his, and smashed it,&mdash;cracked it, at
+least,&mdash;and she said she didn't care."</p>
+
+<p>"And the table-drawer was full of choco<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>late
+peppermints," chimed in Merton, "and
+we ate so many, I don't feel very well now, I
+think, p'r'aps."</p>
+
+<p>"And she told us lots of things!" cried
+Basil again; he looked towards Miss Sophronia,
+with sparkling eyes. "She told us
+about when she was a little girl, and used
+to stay here, when Uncle John's puppa and
+mumma were alive. I say! And you were
+here, too, she said, Cousin Sophronia. And
+she said&mdash;lots of things!" The boy stopped
+suddenly, and gave his brother a look of
+intelligence.</p>
+
+<p>"Ho!" said Merton, "I know what you
+mean,&mdash;you mean about the ghost, that
+scared&mdash;I say! You stop pinching, will
+you? I'll punch your&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Merton!" said Margaret, warningly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he was pinching me!" whined
+Merton. "And it did scare you, didn't it,
+Cousin Sophronia?"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sophronia looked disturbed. "Merton,
+you should speak when you are spoken
+to!" she said, severely. "I am surprised
+that Mrs. Peyton should have told you such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
+things. There certainly were some very
+strange occurrences at Fernley, Margaret,
+when I was a young girl. They never were
+explained to my satisfaction; indeed, I never
+heard of their being explained at all. Little
+boys, if you do not want any supper, you
+may as well run away. I do not approve
+of their going to see Emily Peyton,
+Margaret. I shall make a point of their
+not doing so in future. She was always
+malicious."</p>
+
+<p>She seemed much fluttered, and Margaret,
+wondering, hastened to change the subject.
+"I wonder where Susan D. can be. I have
+not seen the child since I came in, and she
+did not answer when I called her. Elizabeth,
+do you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me, Margaret, my love!" Miss
+Sophronia interposed. "Susan D. is in bed;
+I sent her to bed an hour ago."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Cousin Sophronia! Without her
+supper? What had she done?"</p>
+
+<p>"She was disobedient, my dear,&mdash;disobedient
+and impertinent. I have no doubt
+that this will have an excellent effect upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>
+the child. Basil, what do you want? I
+told you to go away."</p>
+
+<p>"Cousin Margaret, could I speak to you
+a moment, please?" asked the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"I will come to you, Basil," said Margaret,
+quickly. "Will you excuse me, Cousin Sophronia,
+please? I have quite finished.
+Now, Basil, what is it?"</p>
+
+<p>She led the boy carefully out of earshot,
+for thunder and lightning were in his face,
+and she foresaw an outburst.</p>
+
+<p>"Susan D. is in bed!" cried Basil. "She has
+had no supper at all; Elizabeth said so. That
+woman sent her. Cousin Margaret, I won't
+stand it. I&mdash;I'll set fire to her clothes! I'll
+shoot her! I'll&mdash;I'll kill her some way&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret laid her hand over the boy's
+mouth. "You will be silent!" she said.
+"Not a word, not a syllable, till you can
+speak like a civilised being. We will have
+no savages here."</p>
+
+<p>Basil said no word,&mdash;he knew well enough
+when he must obey,&mdash;but he set his teeth,
+and clenched his fists; the veins on his
+temples swelled, his whole childish frame<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>
+shook with anger. Margaret had never
+seen any one, not even Rita, in such a passion
+as this. For a few moments, the two
+stood motionless, facing each other. Then
+Margaret took the boy's hand in hers, and
+led him out into the garden. Still holding
+his hand, she paced up and down the
+green walk in silence, Basil following obediently.
+The evening was falling soft and
+dusk; the last bird was chirping sleepily;
+the air was full of the scent of flowers.
+Behind the dark trees, where the sun had
+gone down, the sky still glowed with soft,
+yellow light. "See!" said Margaret, presently.
+"There is the first star. Let us
+wish! Oh, Basil dear, let us wish&mdash;and
+pray&mdash;for a good thing, for strength to
+overcome&mdash;ourselves."</p>
+
+<p>The boy's hand pressed hers convulsively,
+but he did not speak at first. Presently he
+said, almost in a whisper, "She is so little,&mdash;and
+so thin! I told Mother I would take
+care of her. But&mdash;I said&mdash;I would try not
+to let go of myself, too."</p>
+
+<p>Very tenderly Margaret drew the child<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>
+down beside her, on a rustic bench that
+stood under one of the great tulip-trees.
+In the quiet darkness, she felt his heart
+open to her even more than it had done
+yet. In the hour that followed, she learned
+the story of a wild, faithful nature, full of
+mischief, full of love. The passionate love
+for his mother, whom he remembered well;
+the faithful, scowling devotion to the little
+sister, whom no one should scold but himself,
+and whom he shook, and bullied, and
+protected with a sole eye to her good; all
+this, and much more, Margaret learned. The
+two sat hand in hand, and took counsel
+together. "Oh, it is so good to have some
+one to talk to," cried Basil.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it, dear?" said Margaret. "Now
+you know how I feel with Uncle John away;
+and&mdash;oh, Basil, before I had Uncle John,&mdash;when
+my father died,&mdash;oh, my dear! But
+you are going to be my brother now, Basil,&mdash;my
+dear, dear little brother, aren't you?
+And you will tell me how to make Susan
+D. love me. I think you do love me a little
+already, don't you, Basil?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>For all answer, Basil threw his arms round
+her, and gave her such a hug as made her gasp
+for breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear boy," cried Margaret, "don't&mdash;kill
+me! Oh, Basil! I tried to hug Susan D.
+the other day, and I might as well have
+hugged the door! She won't even let me kiss
+her good night; that is, she lets me, but there
+is no response. Why doesn't she like me, do
+you think?"</p>
+
+<p>"She does!" said Basil. "Or she will,
+soon as she can get out of herself. Don't you
+know what I mean, Cousin Margaret? It's
+as if she had a dumb spirit, like that fellow
+in the Bible, don't you know? Nobody but
+me understands; but you will, just once you
+get inside."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, but how shall I ever get inside?"
+said Margaret.</p>
+
+<p>Basil nodded confidently. "You will!" he
+said. "I know you will, some time. Oh,
+Cousin Margaret, mayn't I take her something
+to eat? She's always hungry, Susan D. is,
+and I know she won't sleep a mite if she
+doesn't have anything. I&mdash;no, I won't let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>
+go again, but it <i>is</i> the meanest, hatefullest
+thing that ever was done in the world! Now
+isn't it, Cousin Margaret? Don't you think
+so yourself?"</p>
+
+<p>Sorely puzzled as to the exact path of duty,
+Margaret tried to explain to the boy how
+ideas of discipline had changed since Cousin
+Sophronia was a young girl; how, probably,
+she had herself been brought up with rigid
+severity, and, never having married, had kept
+all the old cast-iron ideas which were now
+superseded by wider and better knowledge and
+sympathy. As to this particular point,
+what should she say? Her whole kind nature
+revolted against the thought of the hungry
+child, alone, waking, perhaps weeping, with
+no one to comfort her; yet how could she,
+Margaret, possibly interfere with the doings
+of one old enough to be her mother?</p>
+
+<p>Pondering in anxious perplexity, she chanced
+to raise her eyes to the house. It was brightly
+lighted, and, as it happened, the curtains had
+not been drawn. "Look!" said Margaret,
+pressing the boy's hand in hers. "Basil,
+look!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>One long, narrow window looked directly
+upon the back stairs, which led from the servants'
+hall to the upper floor. Up these
+stairs, past the window, a figure was now seen
+to pass, swiftly and stealthily; a portly figure,
+carrying something that looked like a heaped
+up plate; the figure of Frances the cook. It
+passed, and in a moment more they saw light,
+as of an opening door, flash into the dark
+window of the corner room where the little
+girl slept.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know, Basil," said Margaret, "I
+wouldn't worry any more about Susan D.'s
+being hungry. There is one person in Fernley
+whom no one, not even Uncle John, can
+manage; that is Frances."</p>
+
+<p>An hour or so later, Margaret was coming
+down from the nursery. Merton had announced,
+as bedtime drew near, that he "felt
+a pain;" and Margaret had no difficulty in
+tracing it to Mrs. Peyton's careless indulgence.
+She stole down quietly to the cheerful back
+room where Frances and Elizabeth sat with
+their sewing, and begged for some simple
+remedy. Frances rose with alacrity. "Check<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>erberry
+cordial is what you want, Miss Margaret,"
+she said. "I've made it for thirty
+<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'year'">years</ins>, and I hope I know its merits. No
+wonder the child is sick. If some had their
+way, everybody in this house 'ud be sick to
+starvation."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid it was the other thing in this
+case, Frances," said Margaret, meekly. "I'm
+afraid Master Merton ate too many rich things
+at Mrs. Peyton's." Now in general, Frances
+could not abide patiently the mention of Mrs.
+Peyton; but this time she declared she was
+glad the child had had enough to eat for once.
+"'Twill do him no harm!" she said, stoutly.
+"Give him ten drops of this, Miss Margaret,
+in a wine-glass of hot water,&mdash;wait a minute,
+dear, and I'll mix it myself,&mdash;and he'll turn
+over and go to sleep like a lamb. Treating
+children as if they was one half starch and
+t'other half sticks! Don't tell me!"</p>
+
+<p>Knowing that none of this wrath was
+directed against herself, Margaret wisely held
+her tongue, and departed with her glass, leaving
+Frances still muttering, and Elizabeth
+with lips pursed up in judicious silence. And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
+Merton took it and felt better, and was glad
+enough to be petted a little, and finally to be
+tucked up with the hot water-bottle for a comforter.</p>
+
+<p>As has been said, Margaret was coming
+down-stairs after this mission was fulfilled,
+when she met Miss Sophronia coming up.
+"All quiet up-stairs, my dear?" said the lady.
+"I am going to bed myself, Margaret, for I
+feel a little rheumatic, or I should rather say
+neuralgic, perhaps. These things are very
+obscure; the doctor says my case is a very remarkable
+one; he has never seen another like
+it. Yes, and now I am going to make sure
+that this child is all right, and that she does
+not actually need anything. Duty, Margaret,
+is a thing I can never neglect."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret followed her cousin into the room,
+feeling rather self-reproachful. Perhaps she had
+been unjust in her judgment. Cousin Sophronia
+was of course doing the best, or what she
+thought the best, for this poor wild little girl.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sophronia advanced towards the bed,
+holding up her candle. Margaret, looking
+over her shoulder, saw the child lying fast<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
+asleep, her hand under her cheek. Her face
+was flushed, and her fair hair lay in a
+tangle on the pillow. Margaret had never
+seen her look so nearly pretty. There were
+traces of tears on her face, too, and she sobbed
+a little, softly, in her sleep.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor little thing!" whispered Margaret;
+but Miss Sophronia was not looking at Susan
+D. now. With stiff, outstretched finger she
+pointed to the floor. "Look at that!" she
+said, in a penetrating whisper. Indeed, the
+child had dropped her clothes on the floor all
+at once, and they lay in an untidy heap,
+shocking to Margaret's eyes, which loved to
+see things neatly laid. She shook her head
+and was about to murmur some extenuation
+of the offence, when&mdash;Miss Sophronia set
+down the candle on the stand; then, with a
+quick, decided motion, she pulled the sleeping
+child out of bed. "Susan D.," she said, "pick
+up your clothes at once. Never let me find
+them in this condition again. Shocking!"</p>
+
+<p>The child stood helpless, bewildered, blinking,
+half awake, at the light, not in the least
+understanding what was said to her. Miss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
+Sophronia took her by the shoulder, not unkindly,
+and repeated her command. "Pick
+them up at once, my dear! Let this be a
+lesson to you, never to leave your clothes on
+the floor again." Still only half comprehending,
+the child stooped, stumbling as she did
+so, and picking up the clothes, laid them on
+the chair as she was directed.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" said Miss Sophronia, in high
+satisfaction. "Now, my dearest Margaret,
+you will see that this child will never neglect
+her clothes again. A lesson promptly administered,
+on the spot, is worth all the preaching
+in the world. Get into bed again, Susan D.,
+and go to sleep like a good child. Some day
+you will be very grateful to your Cousin
+Sophronia for teaching you these things."</p>
+
+<p>She turned away with the candle. Margaret,
+standing in the shadow, saw the child
+still standing in the middle of the room, a
+forlorn, shivering little figure, silent; the most
+piteous sight those tender eyes had ever looked
+upon. Softly the girl closed the door. "Margaret,"
+she heard her cousin say. "Oh, she is
+gone down-stairs!" and the steps went away<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
+along the entry. But Margaret groped her
+way to where Susan D. stood; the next moment
+she had the child in her arms, and was
+pressing her close, close. A rocking-chair was
+by; she had seen it, and knew where to
+lay her hand to draw it forward. She sank
+down in it, and rocked to and fro, murmuring
+inarticulate words of comfort. The night was
+warm, but still the child shivered; Margaret,
+groping again, found a shawl, and wrapped it
+round her. There was no more holding off,
+no more resistance; the little creature clung
+around Margaret's neck with a desperate hold,
+as if she dared not let her go for an instant.
+Her breast heaved once or twice, silently;
+then she burst into a passion of tears, and
+sobbed on her cousin's heart. "I love you!"
+cried the child. "You are good, and I love
+you! Don't&mdash;don't leave me alone, please
+don't!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret held her close in her warm, loving
+arms. "My lamb!" she said. "My little
+girl! Indeed I will not leave you. Quiet
+now, dearie; quiet and don't cry! Oh, Susan
+D., I have no mother, either, dear; let us love<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>
+each other a great, great deal!" and Susan D.
+sobbed, and curled closer yet, as if she would
+wind herself into the very heart that beat so
+kindly and so tenderly.</p>
+
+<p>So they sat, till the sobs died away into
+soft, broken breathings. Margaret began to
+sing, and crooned one after another the old
+songs that Katy used to sing to her when she
+was rocked just so on that broad, faithful
+Irish breast. Susan D. lifted her head a little
+towards her ear. "What is it?" said Margaret,
+bending down.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I do like singing!" whispered the
+child.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret nodded, and sang on. By and by
+the almost frantic clasp of the small arms
+loosened; the head sank back gently on her
+arm; the child was asleep. Margaret rose
+to lay her down, but instantly she started up
+again, affrighted, and cried out, and begged
+not to be left alone. What was to be done?
+Margaret hesitated; then she bade the child
+hold fast, and slowly, carefully she made her
+way down the stairs and through the passage
+to her own room, and did not pause till the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>
+little child was lying safe, happy, and wondering,
+in the white bed, in the wonderful White
+Room.</p>
+
+<p>"Crowd me?" said Cousin Margaret. "Not
+a bit of it! There is plenty of room, and in the
+morning we will have a most lovely cuddle,
+and tell stories. But now go to sleep this very
+minute, Susan D., while I do my hair. Good
+night, little sister!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good night!" said Susan D. "I love you!
+Good night!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE VOICE OF FERNLEY.</h3>
+
+
+<p>From that night, Susan D. was Margaret's
+friend and true lover.</p>
+
+<p>She followed her round in the hope of
+being able to do some little service of love.
+She brought her flowers, and hunted the
+fields for the largest and finest berries for
+her. At any hour of the day, Margaret
+might feel a little hot hand slide into hers
+and deposit a handful of warm, moist raspberries
+or blueberries. Sometimes this bred
+trouble, as when Merton waylaid his sister,
+and wrested the hard-won treasures from her
+for his own refreshment; with the result of
+shrieks and scuffling, and a final thrashing
+from his elder brother; or, as when Cousin
+Sophronia detected the child sidling along
+with closed palm, and demanded to see what
+she had. Susan D. resisted stoutly, till at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>
+length, yielding to superior strength, she
+threw the berries on the floor, and trampled
+them into the carpet. There was a good deal
+of this kind of thing; but still the change
+was a blessed one, and Margaret, when she
+met the beaming look of love in the child's
+face, and remembered the suspicious scowl
+that had greeted her only so few days ago,
+was most thankful, and felt it to be worth
+any amount of trouble, even to taking the
+spots out of the carpet, which was a hard
+thing to do.</p>
+
+<p>"I told you!" said Basil, smiling superior.
+"I told you, once you got inside, you'd find
+the kid not at all so bad. I say, Cousin Margaret,
+you're not a fraidcat, are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"A what, Basil?"</p>
+
+<p>"A fraidcat! Don't you know what a
+fraidcat is, Cousin Margaret? Seems to me
+you didn't learn many modern expressions
+when you were a little girl, did you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Basil, I think I learned all that
+were necessary," said Margaret, laughing.
+"I did not learn slang, certainly, nor boy-jargon,
+and I don't care to take lessons,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>
+thank you. Don't you think good, plain
+English is good enough?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well, it sounds all right from you,
+'cause you are you, and you wouldn't match
+yourself if you didn't talk that way, I suppose.
+But it would sound silly for a boy to
+go on so, don't you see?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid I don't see very well, Basil,
+but no matter. The things I am afraid of are
+spiders and caterpillars and cows! Is that
+what you wanted to know?"</p>
+
+<p>"N&mdash;not exactly!" said the boy; "but
+no matter, Cousin Margaret. You haven't
+got a ball of twine, have you? Oh, yes,
+please! Thank you, that is just exactly
+what I wanted. You always know where
+things are, don't you? That's bully!"</p>
+
+<p>The children had been very good for the
+last few days; singularly good, Margaret
+thought, as she sat on the verandah in the
+pleasant twilight, reviewing the day's doings,
+and wondering what happy day would bring
+Uncle John back to her. Certainly, he would
+find a good deal of improvement. Merton
+had not run away since his experience in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
+bog; Susan D. was won, and Basil grew more
+and more helpful and considerate. More than
+that, the children, all three of them, seemed
+to have quieted down of their own accord.
+At this hour, they were generally shouting
+and screaming, racing over the grass, or
+tumbling headlong from the trees, keeping
+Margaret in a constant state of terror, and
+Cousin Sophronia in one of peevish irritation
+and alarm. But now they had gone
+of their own will to the summer-house, saying
+that they were going to tell stories, and see
+how quiet they could be. They were quiet,
+indeed, for she could not even hear their
+voices. Cousin Sophronia, coming out with
+an inquiry, became instantly suspicious, and
+declared she must go and see what they were
+about; but Margaret begged her to wait a
+little. "They can do no harm in the summer-house!"
+she said. "And&mdash;Uncle John
+thought we would better let them alone a
+good deal, Cousin Sophronia."</p>
+
+<p>"My love," said the lady, seating herself,
+and folding her hands for a good talk, "your
+Uncle John is a babe, simply a babe in these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>
+matters. Even if he knew anything about
+children,&mdash;which he does not,&mdash;it would be
+my duty, my positive duty, to shield him from
+all anxieties of this kind. Why else did I
+come here, my love, except for this very
+thing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you, then, know that Cousin Anthony
+wished to send the children?" asked Margaret,
+perhaps not without a spice of gentle
+malice.</p>
+
+<p>"Ahem! No, not precisely, my love!
+But&mdash;but it was my firm resolve to protect
+dearest John from every species of annoyance.
+Every species, my dear! John Montfort&mdash;good
+gracious! What is that?" She
+started to her feet, and Margaret followed her
+example. A sound seemed to pass them in
+the air; a strange sound, something between
+a sigh and a moan. It swelled for a moment,
+then died away among the trees beyond the
+verandah. Miss Sophronia clutched Margaret's
+arm. "You&mdash;you made that noise?"
+she whispered. "Say it was you, Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, it was not I, Cousin Sophronia!"
+said Margaret. "It must have been a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>
+sudden gust of wind. It is gone now; it
+must surely have been the wind. Shall I
+bring you a wrap? Do you feel chilly?"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sophronia still held her arm. "No,
+no! Don't go!" she said. "I&mdash;I feel rather
+nervous to-night, I think. Nerves! Yes, no
+one knows what I suffer. If you had any
+idea what my nights are&mdash; You may be right,
+my dear, about the wind. It is a misfortune,
+I always say, to have such exquisite sensibility.
+The expression is not my own, my love, it is
+Doctor Soper's. Shall we go into the house,
+and light the lamps? So much more cheerful,
+I always think, than this dreary twilight."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret hesitated a moment. The evening
+was very warm, and once in the house, her
+cousin would be sure to shut all the windows
+and draw the curtains. Still, she must not be
+selfish&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"If I join you in a few minutes, Cousin
+Sophronia?" she said. "The children&mdash;I suppose
+it is time for them to come in. I will just
+go down to the summer-house and see&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The sentence remained unfinished; for at
+that moment, almost close beside them, arose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
+the strange moaning sound once more. This
+time Miss Sophronia shrieked aloud. "Come!"
+she cried, dragging Margaret towards the
+house. "Come in this moment! It is the
+Voice! The Voice of Fernley. I will not stay
+here; I will not go in alone. Come with me,
+Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>She was trembling from head to foot, and
+even Margaret, who was not timid about such
+matters, felt slightly disturbed. Was this
+some trick of the children? She must go and
+hunt them up, naughty little things. Ah!
+What was that, moving in the dusk? It was
+almost entirely dark now, but something was
+certainly coming up the gravel walk, something
+that glimmered white against the black
+box-hedges. Miss Sophronia uttered another
+piercing shriek, and would have fled, but
+Margaret detained her. "Who is that?" said
+the girl. "Basil, is that you? Where are the
+other children?"</p>
+
+<p>The white figure advanced; it was tall and
+slender, and seemed to have no head. Miss
+Sophronia moaned, and cowered down at
+Margaret's side.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I beg pardon!" said a deep, cheerful
+voice. "I hope nothing is wrong. It is only
+I, Miss Montfort,&mdash;Gerald Merryweather."</p>
+
+<p>Only a tall youth in white flannels; yet, at
+that moment, no one, save Uncle John himself,
+could have been more welcome, Margaret
+thought. "Oh, Mr. Merryweather," she said,
+"I am so glad to see you! No, nothing is
+wrong, I hope; that is&mdash;won't you come up
+on the verandah? My cousin&mdash;Cousin Sophronia,
+let me present Mr. Merryweather."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Merryweather advanced, bowing politely
+to the darkness; when, to his amazement, the
+person to whom he was to pay his respects
+sprang forward, and clutched him violently.</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;you&mdash;you abominable young man!"
+cried Miss Sophronia, shrilly. "You made
+that noise; you know you made it, to
+annoy me! Don't tell me you did not! Get
+away from here this instant, you&mdash;you&mdash;impostor!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret was struck dumb for an instant,
+and before she could speak, Gerald Merryweather
+was replying, quietly, as if he had
+been throttled every day of his life:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If choking is your object, madam, you can
+do it better by pulling the other way, I would
+suggest. By pulling in this direction, you see,
+you only injure the textile fabric, and leave
+the <i>corpus delicti</i> comparatively unharmed."</p>
+
+<p>He stood perfectly still; Miss Sophronia
+still clutched and shook him, muttering inarticulately;
+but now Margaret seized and
+dragged her off by main force. "Cousin
+Sophronia!" she cried. "How can you&mdash;what
+can you be thinking of? This is Mr.
+Merryweather, I tell you, the son of Uncle
+John's old schoolmate. Uncle John asked
+him to call. I am sure you are not well, or
+have made some singular mistake."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe a word of it!" said Miss
+Sophronia. "Not one single word! What was
+he making that noise for, I should like to
+know?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Merryweather answered with a calm
+which he was far from feeling. His pet necktie
+was probably ruined, his collar crumpled,
+very likely his coat torn. He had taken pains
+with his toilet, and now he had been set upon
+and harried, by some one he had never seen,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>
+but whom he felt sure to be the Gorgon who
+had glared at him out the window several
+days before. This was a horrid old lady; he
+saw no reason why he should be attacked in
+the night by horrid old ladies, when he was
+behaving beautifully.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry!" he said, rather stiffly. "I
+was not conscious of speaking loud. Miss
+Montfort asked who it was, and I told her.
+If I have offended <i>her</i>, I am ready to apologise&mdash;and
+withdraw."</p>
+
+<p>This sounded theatrical, it occurred to him;
+but then, the whole scene was fit for the
+variety stage. Poor Margaret felt a moment
+of despair. What should she do?</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Merryweather," she said, aloud, "Miss
+Montfort has been much startled. Just before
+you came, we heard a noise; rather a strange
+noise, which we could not account for. I think
+her nerves are somewhat shaken. She will be
+better in a moment. And&mdash;and I was just
+going to the summer-house, to call the children.
+Would you come with me, I wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sophronia clamoured that she could not
+be left alone, but for once Margaret was deaf<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>
+to her appeals. She was too angry; her guest&mdash;that
+is, her uncle's guest&mdash;to be set upon
+and shaken, as if he were a naughty child
+caught stealing apples,&mdash;it was too shameful!
+He would think they were all out of their
+senses.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I am so sorry! So sorry!" she found
+herself saying aloud. "Mr. Merryweather, I
+am so mortified, so ashamed! What can I say
+to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Say!" said Gerald, his stiffness gone in an
+instant. "Don't say anything, Miss Montfort.
+I&mdash;I don't mean that; I mean, there's nothing
+<i>to</i> say, don't you know? Why, it wasn't
+your fault! Who ever thought of its being
+your fault?"</p>
+
+<p>"I ought to have recognised you sooner!"
+said Margaret. "It was pretty dark, and we
+had really been startled, and my cousin is very
+nervous. If you would <i>please</i> overlook it this
+time I should be so grateful!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I <i>say!</i>" cried the young man. "Miss
+Montfort, if you go on in this way, I shall go
+back and ask the old&mdash;and ask the lady to
+choke me some more. I&mdash;I <i>like</i> being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>
+choked! I like anything; only don't go on
+so! Why, it isn't any matter in the world.
+Perhaps it relieved her feelings a bit; and it
+didn't do me any harm." He felt of his necktie,
+and settled his collar as well as he could,
+thankful for the friendly darkness. "Indeed,
+I am all right!" he assured her, earnestly.
+"Trivets aren't a circumstance to me, as far
+as rightness is concerned. Now if you'll
+forget all about it, Miss Montfort, please, I
+shall be as happy as the bounding roe,&mdash;or
+the circumflittergating cockchafer!" he added,
+as a large June-bug buzzed past him.</p>
+
+<p>"You are very good!" murmured Margaret.
+"I am sure&mdash;but here is the summer-house.
+Children, are you here? Basil! Susan D.!"</p>
+
+<p>No answer came. The frogs chirped peacefully,
+the brook at the foot of the garden sent
+up its soft, bubbling murmur; there was no
+other sound. It was very dark, for the trees
+were thick overhead. The fireflies flitted
+hither and thither, gleaming amid the thickets
+of honeysuckle and lilac; the young
+man's figure beside her glimmered faintly
+in the darkness, but there was no glimpse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
+of Susan D.'s white frock, or Basil's white
+head.</p>
+
+<p>"Children!" cried Margaret again. "Don't
+play any tricks, dears! It is bedtime, and after,
+and you must come in. Susan, Cousin wants
+you, dear!"</p>
+
+<p>Silence; not a rustle, not a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"I should suppose they had gone," said
+Gerald. "Or do you think they are playing
+hookey? Wait a minute, and I'll hunt
+around."</p>
+
+<p>But search availed nothing; the children
+were not in the summer-house, nor near it.
+"They must have gone back to the house,"
+said Margaret. "Thank you so much, Mr.
+Merryweather. I am sorry to have given you
+all this trouble for nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, trouble!" said Gerald. "This isn't
+my idea of trouble, Miss Montfort. What
+a pretty place this is! Awfully&mdash;I mean,
+extremely pretty."</p>
+
+<p>"It is pretty in the daytime. I should
+hardly think you could see anything now, it
+is so dark."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, yes, it is dark; but I mean it seems<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
+such a pleasant place to sit and rest in a little.
+Hadn't you better sit and rest a minute, Miss
+Montfort? The children are all right, you
+may be sure. Gone to bed, most likely, like
+good little kids. I&mdash;I often went to bed,
+when I was a kid."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret could not help laughing; nevertheless,
+she turned decidedly towards the
+house. "I am afraid I cannot be sure of
+their having gone to bed," she said. "I think
+I must find them, Mr. Merryweather, but if
+you are tired, you shall rest on the verandah
+while I hunt."</p>
+
+<p>Gerald did not want to rest on the verandah,
+particularly if his recent assailant were
+still there. He wanted to stay here in the garden.
+He liked the fireflies, and the frogs; the
+murmur of the brook, and the soft voice speaking
+out of the darkness. He thought this was
+a very nice girl; he wished she would not be
+so uneasy about those tiresome youngsters.
+However, as there seemed to be no help for
+it, he followed Margaret in silence up the
+gravel walk. She need not hurry so, he
+thought; it was very early, not half past<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>
+eight yet. He wanted to make his call; he
+couldn't dress up like this every night; and,
+besides, it was a question whether he could
+ever wear this shirt again by daylight.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sophronia was not on the verandah.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you not come in?" asked Margaret
+at the door; but Gerald felt, rather than
+heard, the uneasiness in her voice, and decided,
+much against his inclination, that it
+would be better manners to say good night
+and take himself off.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I must be going," he had begun
+already, when, from the open door behind
+them, burst a long, low, melancholy wail.
+The girl started violently. The young man
+bent his ear in swift attention. The voice&mdash;the
+cry&mdash;trembled on the air, swelled to a
+shriek; then died slowly away into a dreary
+whisper, and was gone.</p>
+
+<p>Before either of the young people could
+speak, the library door was flung open, and
+a wild figure came flying out. Miss Sophronia
+threw herself once more upon Gerald, and
+clung to him with the energy of desperation.
+"My dear young man!" cried the distracted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>
+lady. "Save me! Protect me! I knew your
+father! I was at school with your mother,&mdash;Miranda
+Cheerley. Save me,&mdash;hold me! Do
+not desert me! You are my only hope!"</p>
+
+<p>It was past nine o'clock when Gerald Merryweather
+finally took his departure. The
+children had been discovered,&mdash;in bed, and
+apparently asleep. Three neatly folded piles
+of clothes showed at least that they had gone
+to bed in a proper and reasonable manner.
+Miss Sophronia Montfort had finally been
+quieted, by soothing words and promises,
+followed up by hot malted milk and checkerberry
+cordial, the latter grimly administered
+by Frances, and so strong that it made the
+poor lady sneeze. Margaret was to sleep with
+her; Gerald was to come the next morning to
+see how she was; meanwhile, Frances and
+Elizabeth, the latter badly frightened, the
+former entirely cool and self-possessed, were
+to sleep in the front chamber, and be at hand
+in case of any untoward event.</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing further to be done save
+to shake hands warmly with Margaret, submit
+to an embrace from Miss Sophronia, and go.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>
+Mr. Merryweather strode slowly down the
+garden path, looking back now and then at
+the house, where already the lights on the
+lower floor were being extinguished one by
+one.</p>
+
+<p>"That's a very nice girl!" he murmured.
+"Hildegarde would approve of that girl, I
+know. But on the other hand, my son, that
+is a horrid old lady. I should like&mdash;Jerry,
+my blessed infant, I <i>should</i> like&mdash;to make
+that old lady run!" He turned for a final
+glance at the house; considered the advisability
+of turning a handspring; remembered
+his white flannels, and, with a bow to the
+corner window, was gone in the darkness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>WHO DID IT?</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Frightened, was she?" said Mrs. Peyton.
+"How sad! Margaret, you are not looking at
+my bed-spread. This is the first day I have
+used it, and I put it on expressly for you.
+What is the use of my having pretty things,
+if no one will look at them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, it is very beautiful!" said Margaret.
+"Everything you have is beautiful,
+Mrs. Peyton."</p>
+
+<p>"It is Honiton!" said Mrs. Peyton. "It
+ought to be handsome. But you do not care,
+Margaret, it is perfectly easy to see that. You
+don't care about any of my things any more.
+I was simply a new toy to you in the beginning,
+and you liked to look at me because I
+was pretty. Now you have new toys,&mdash;Sophronia
+Montfort, I suppose, and a sweet plaything
+she is! and you pay no further attention
+to me. Deny it if you can!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Margaret did not attempt to deny it; she
+was too absolutely truthful not to feel a
+certain grain of fact in the lady's accusation.
+Life was opening fuller and broader upon her
+every day; how could she think of lace bed-spreads,
+with three children constantly in her
+mind, to think and plan and puzzle for? To
+say nothing of Uncle John and all the rest.
+And as to the "new toy" aspect, Margaret
+knew that she might well enough turn the
+accusation upon her lovely friend herself; but
+this she was too kind and too compassionate
+to do. Would not any one want toys, perhaps,
+if forced to spend one's life between four
+walls?</p>
+
+<p>So she simply stroked the exquisite hand
+that lay like a piece of carved ivory on the
+splendid coverlet, and smiled, and waited for
+the next remark.</p>
+
+<p>"I knew you would not deny it!" the lady
+said. "You couldn't, you see. Well, it doesn't
+matter! I shall be dead some day, I hope and
+trust. So Sophronia was frightened? Tell me
+more about it!"</p>
+
+<p>"She was very much frightened!" said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>
+Margaret. "Mrs. Peyton, I wanted to ask
+you&mdash;when the children came home yesterday,
+they said something about your having
+told them some story of old times here; of a
+ghost, or some such thing. I never heard of
+anything of the sort. Do you&mdash;do you remember
+what it was? I ought not to torment
+you!" she added, remorsefully; for Mrs.
+Peyton put her hand to her head, and her
+brow contracted slightly, as if with pain.</p>
+
+<p>"Only my head, dear, it is rather troublesome
+to-day; I suppose I ought not to talk very
+much! Yes, there was a ghost, or something
+like one, in old times, when I was a child. I
+wasn't at Fernley at the time, but I heard
+about it; Sophronia was there, and I remember
+she was frightened into fits, just as you
+describe her last night."</p>
+
+<p>"What&mdash;do you remember anything about
+it? It isn't that old story of Hugo Montfort,
+is it, the man who looks for papers?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, nothing so interesting as that! I
+always longed to see Hugo. No, this is just a
+voice that comes and goes, wails about the
+rooms and the gardens. It is one of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
+Montfort women, I believe, the one who cut
+up her wedding-gown and then went mad."</p>
+
+<p>"Penelope?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's it! Penelope Montfort. Once in
+a while they see her, but very rarely, I believe."</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Peyton, you are making fun of me.
+Aunt Faith told me there was no ghost except
+that of Hugo Montfort; of course I don't mean
+that there is really that; but no ghost that
+people had ever fancied."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, well, my dear, all this was before
+Mrs. Cheriton came to Fernley! Before such
+a piece of perfection as she was, no wandering
+ghost would have ventured to appear. Now
+don't stiffen into stone, Margaret Montfort! I
+know she was a saint, but she never liked me,
+and I am not a saint, you see. I was always
+a sinner, and I expect to remain one. And
+certainly, there was a white figure seen about
+Fernley, at that time I was speaking of; and
+no one ever found out what it was; and if you
+want to know any more, you must ask John
+Montfort. There, now my head is confused,
+and I shall not have a straight thought again
+to-day!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The lady turned her head fretfully on the
+pillow. Margaret, who knew her ways well,
+sat silent for some minutes, and then began to
+sing softly:</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+O sweetest lady ever seen,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(With a heigh ho! and a lily gay,)</span><br />
+Give consent to be my queen,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(As the primrose spreads so sweetly.)</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p>Before the long ballad was ended, the line
+between Mrs. Peyton's eyebrows was gone,
+and her beautiful face wore a look of contentment
+that was not common to it.</p>
+
+<p>"Go away now!" the lady murmured.
+"You have straightened me out again. Be
+thankful for that little silver voice of yours,
+child! You can do more good with it in the
+world than you know. I really think you are
+one of the few good persons who are not
+odious. Go now! Good-bye!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret went away, thinking, as she had
+often thought before, how like her Cousin Rita
+this fair lady was. "Only Rita has a great,
+great deal more heart!" she said to herself.
+"Rita only laughs at people when she is in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
+one of her bad moods. Dear Rita! I wonder
+where she is to-day. And Peggy is driving
+the mowing machine, she writes; mowing
+hundreds of acres, and riding bareback, and
+having a glorious time."</p>
+
+<p>A letter had come the day before from
+Peggy Montfort, telling of all her delightful
+doings on the farm, and begging that her
+darling Margaret would come out and spend
+the rest of the summer with her. "Darling
+Margaret, do, do, <i>do</i> come! Nobody can possibly
+want you as much as I do; nobody can
+begin to think of wanting you one hundredth
+part as much as your own Peggy."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret had laughed over the letter, and
+kissed it, and perhaps there was a tear in her
+eye when she put it away to answer. It was
+good, good to be loved. And Peggy did love
+her, and so she hoped&mdash;she knew&mdash;did
+Uncle John; and now the children were
+hers, two of them, at least; hers to have
+and to hold, so far as love went. Go away
+and leave them now, when they needed her
+every hour? "No, Peggy dear, not even to
+see your sweet, round, honest face again."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Coming back to the house she found Gerald
+Merryweather on the verandah. He was in
+his working clothes again, but they were
+fresh and spotless, and he was a pleasant
+object to look upon. He explained that he
+had called to inquire for the ladies' health,
+and to express his hope that they had suffered
+no further annoyance the night before. He
+was on his way to the bog, and just thought
+he would ask if there was anything he could
+do.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you!" said Margaret, gratefully.
+"You are very good, Mr. Merryweather. No;
+nothing more happened; and my poor cousin
+got some sleep after awhile. But I still cannot
+imagine what the noise was, can you?"</p>
+
+<p>"So many noises at night, don't you
+know?" said Gerald. "Especially round
+an old house like this. You were not personally
+alarmed, were you, Miss Montfort?
+I think you may be pretty sure that there
+was nothing supernatural about it. Oh, I
+don't mean anything in particular, of course;
+but&mdash;well, I never saw a ghost; and I don't
+believe in 'em. Do you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not. I didn't suppose any one
+believed in them nowadays. But,&mdash;do you
+know, I really am almost afraid my Cousin
+Sophronia does. She will not listen to any
+explanation I can suggest. I really&mdash;oh,
+here she is, Mr. Merryweather!"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sophronia greeted Gerald with effusion.
+"I heard your voice, my dear young
+man," she said, "and I came down to beg
+that you would take tea with us this evening&mdash;with
+my niece&mdash;she is quite the same as
+my own niece; I make no difference, dearest
+Margaret, I assure you,&mdash;with my niece and
+me. If&mdash;if there should be any more unpleasant
+occurrences, it would be a comfort
+to have a man, however young, on the premises.
+Willis sleeps in the barn, and he is
+deaf, and would be of little use. He couldn't
+even be of the smallest use, if we should be
+murdered in our beds."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but we are not going to be murdered,
+Cousin Sophronia," said Margaret, lightly.
+"We are going to be very courageous, and
+just let that noise understand that we care
+nothing whatever about it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Margaret, my love, you are trivial," responded
+Miss Sophronia, peevishly. "I wish
+you would pay attention when I speak. I
+ask Mr. Merryweather to take tea with us,
+and you talk about noises. Very singular, I
+am sure."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but of course it would be very
+pleasant, indeed, to have Mr. Merryweather
+take tea with us!" cried Margaret, in some
+confusion. "I hope you will come, Mr.
+Merryweather."</p>
+
+<p>It appeared that nothing in the habitable
+universe would give Mr. Merryweather greater
+pleasure. At half-past six? He would not
+fail to be on hand; and if there should be
+noises again, why&mdash;let those who made them
+look to themselves. And, with this, the
+young man took his leave.</p>
+
+<p>The children were very troublesome that
+day. Margaret could not seem to lay her
+hand on any one of them. If she called
+Basil, he was "in the barn, Cousin Margaret,
+helping Willis with the hay. Of course I'll
+come, if you want me, but Willis seems to
+need me a good deal, if you don't mind."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When it was time for Susan D.'s sewing,
+the child came most obediently and affectionately;
+but her thimble was nowhere to be
+found, and she had mislaid her spool, and,
+finally, when everything was found, she had
+not sat still ten minutes, when she was "<i>so</i>
+thirsty; and must go and get a glass of
+water, please, Cousin Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>"Susan," said Margaret, "I want to talk
+to you, and I cannot seem to get a chance for
+a word. Sit still now, like a good little girl,
+and tell me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Cousin Margaret, I couldn't find my
+thimble first, you see; and then there wasn't
+any spool, and I left it in my basket yesterday,
+I'm sure I did, but Merton <i>will</i> take it to
+teach the kitten tricks with, and then it gets
+all dirty. Don't you know how horrid a
+spool is when a kitten has been playing with
+it? You have to wind off yards and yards,
+and then the rest is sort of fruzzly, and keeps
+making knots."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know. Susan D., what were you
+doing last evening?" said Margaret.</p>
+
+<p>"Last evening?" repeated the child. "We<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>
+were in the summer-house, Cousin Margaret.
+We were playing Scottish Chiefs, don't you
+know? Merton had to play Lord Soulis,
+'cause he drew the short straw; but he got
+cross, and wouldn't play good a bit."</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't play <i>well</i>, or <i>nicely</i>," corrected
+Margaret. "But after that, Susan dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"That took a long time," said the child.
+It seemed, when she was alone with Margaret,
+that she could not talk enough; the little
+pent-up nature was finding most delightful
+relief and pleasure in unfolding before the
+sympathy that was always warm, always
+ready.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, when it came to carrying me off
+(I was Helen Mar, after I'd been Marion and
+was dead), Merton was just horrid. He said
+he wouldn't carry me off; he said he wouldn't
+have me for a gift, and called me Scratchface,
+and all kinds of names. And of course
+Lord Soulis wouldn't have talked that way;
+so Wallace (of course Basil <i>had</i> to be Wallace
+when he drew the long straw, and he never
+cheats, though Merton does, whenever he gets
+a chance)&mdash;well, and so, Wallace told him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>
+if he didn't carry me off in two shakes of a
+cat's tail&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Susan D.!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that's what he <i>said</i>, Cousin Margaret.
+I'm telling you just as it happened,
+truly I am. If he didn't carry me off in two
+shakes of a cat's tail, he'd pitch him over the
+parapet,&mdash;you know there's a splendid parapet
+in the summer-house,&mdash;and so he wouldn't,
+and so he did; but Mert held on, and they
+both went over into the meadow. I guess
+Lord Soulis got the worst of it down there,
+for when they climbed up again he did carry
+me off, though he pinched me hard all the way,
+and made my arm all black and blue; I didn't
+say anything, because I was Helen Mar, but I
+gave it to him good&mdash;I mean well&mdash;this
+morning, and served him out. And then
+Wallace had to rescue me, of course, and that
+was <i>great</i>, and we all fell over the parapet
+again, and that was the way I tore the gathers
+out of my frock. So you see, Cousin
+Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>Susan D. paused for breath, and bent over
+her sewing with exemplary diligence. Mar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>garet
+took the child's chin in her hand, and
+raised her face towards her.</p>
+
+<p>"Susan," she said, gently, "after you had
+that fine play&mdash;it must have been a great
+play, and I wish I had seen it&mdash;after that,
+what did you do?"</p>
+
+<p>"We&mdash;we&mdash;went to bed!" said Susan D.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you go without coming to
+say good night? Answer me truly, dear
+child."</p>
+
+<p>The two pairs of gray eyes looked straight
+into each other. A shadow of fear&mdash;a suggestion
+of the old look of distrust and suspicion&mdash;crept
+into the child's eyes for a
+moment; but before Margaret's kind, firm,
+loving gaze it vanished and was gone. A
+wave of colour swept over her face; her eyes
+wavered, gave one imploring glance, and
+fell.</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't you going to tell me, Susan D.?"
+asked Margaret once more.</p>
+
+<p>"N&mdash;no!" said Susan D., in a whisper
+scarcely audible.</p>
+
+<p>"No? And why not, dear child?"</p>
+
+<p>"I promised!" whispered Susan D.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Susan D., do you know anything about
+that strange noise that frightened us so last
+night?"</p>
+
+<p>But not another word would Susan D. say.
+She looked loving, imploring, deprecating;
+she threw her arms around Margaret's neck,
+and hid her face and clung to her; but no
+word could she be brought to say. At last
+Margaret, displeased and puzzled, felt constrained
+to tell the child rather sternly to fold
+her work and go away, and not come back to
+her till she could answer questions properly.
+Susan went obediently; at the door she hesitated,
+and Margaret heard a little sigh, which
+made her heart go out in sympathy toward
+the little creature. Instantly she rose, and,
+going to the child, put her arms round her
+affectionately.</p>
+
+<p>"Darling, I think you are puzzled about
+something," she said, quickly. Susan D. nodded,
+and clung close to her cousin's side.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not ask you anything more," said
+Margaret. "I am going to trust you, Susan
+D., not to do anything wrong. Remember,
+dear, that the two most important things in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>
+the world are truth and kindness. Now kiss
+me, dear, and go."</p>
+
+<p>Left alone, Margaret sat for some time,
+puzzling over what had happened, and wondering
+what would happen next. It was evident
+that the children were concerned in some
+way, or at least had some knowledge, of the
+mysterious sounds which had so alarmed
+Miss Sophronia. What ought she to do?
+How far must she try to force confession from
+them, if it were her duty to try; and how
+could she do it?</p>
+
+<p>Thus pondering, she became aware of voices
+in the air; she sat near the open window, and
+the voices were from above her. The nursery
+window! She listened, bending nearer,
+and holding her breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if you back out now, Susan D., it
+will be mean!" Basil was saying. "What
+did you say to her?"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't say anything!" Susan D. answered,
+sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you tell her that we had a
+pain, and didn't want to <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'both&eacute;r'">bother</ins> her, 'cause
+she had company?" cried Merton, eagerly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>
+"I had that all fixed to tell her, only she
+never asked me."</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't tell her a lie," said Susan D.
+"Basil, you wouldn't tell her a lie, either,
+you know you wouldn't, when she looks at
+you that way, straight at you, and you can't
+get your eyes away."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I wouldn't," said Basil. "And
+the reason she didn't ask you, Merton, was
+because she knew it wouldn't make much difference
+what you said. That's the trouble
+about you. But now, Susan, if you had only
+had a little dipplo-macy, you could have got
+through all right, as I did."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what you mean by dipplo-macy,"
+retorted Susan.</p>
+
+<p>"Ho, stupid!" sneered Merton.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe you know what it means
+yourself!" cried Basil. "Come, tell now, if
+you are so wise. What does it mean? Ah,
+I knew you didn't know! You <i>are</i> a sneak,
+Mert! Well, I guess in the beginning, when
+Adam was making the words, you know, he
+must have wanted to hide from the serpent or
+something&mdash;perhaps a hairy mammoth, or a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>
+megatherium, I shouldn't wonder,&mdash;so he
+said, 'Dip low,' and then 'Massy!' for a
+kind of exclamation, you see. And spelling
+gets changed a lot in the course of time; you
+can see that just from one class to another in
+the grammar school. Well, anyhow, it means
+a sort of getting round things, managing
+them, without telling lies, or truth either."</p>
+
+<p>"You've got to tell one or the other,"
+objected Susan D.</p>
+
+<p>"No, you haven't, either! Now, how did I
+manage? I have just kept out of Cousin
+Margaret's way all day, so far, and I'm going
+to keep out the rest of it. I've been helping
+Willis ever since breakfast, and he says I
+really helped him a great deal, and I'll make
+a farmer yet; only I won't, 'cause I'm going
+into the navy. And now pretty soon I'm
+going in, in a tearing hurry, and ask her if I
+can take some lunch and go over to see Mr.
+Merryweather at the bog, 'cause he is going to
+give me a lesson in surveying. He <i>is;</i> he said
+he would, any time I came over. And so,
+you see&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That's all very well," interrupted Merton,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>
+scornfully. "But when it comes night, what'll
+you do then, I should like to know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Easy enough. I shall have a headache,
+and she won't ask me questions when I have
+a headache; she'll just sit and stroke my
+head, and put me to sleep."</p>
+
+<p>"Ho! How'll you get your headache? Have
+to tell a lie then, I guess."</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir, I won't! And if you say that
+again, I'll bunt you up against the wall. Easy
+enough to get a headache. I don't know
+whether I shall eat hot doughnuts, or just
+ram my head against the horse-chestnut-tree
+till it aches; but I'll get the headache, you
+may bet your boots&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Basil, she asked you not to say that, and
+you said you wouldn't."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to. Pull
+out a hair, Susan D., and then I shall remember
+next time. Ouch! You pulled out two."</p>
+
+<p>"I say, come on!" cried Merton. "We've
+got lots of things to see to. We have to&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The voices were gone. Margaret sat still,
+sewing steadily, and working many thoughts
+into her seam.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It might have been half an hour after this
+that Basil burst into the room, breathless and
+beaming, his tow-colored hair standing on end.
+"Oh, Cousin Margaret, can I&mdash;I mean may
+I, go over to the bog? Mr. Merryweather said
+he would give me a lesson in surveying; and
+Frances is going to put me up some luncheon,
+and I'm in a <i>norful</i> hurry. May I go, please?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Basil; you may go after you have
+answered me one question."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Cousin Margaret," said the diplomat.
+"I may miss Mr. Merryweather if I don't go
+pretty quick, but of course I will."</p>
+
+<p>"Basil, did you make that strange noise
+last night?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Cousin Margaret!" cried the boy; the
+smile seemed to break from every corner of
+his face at once, and his eyes looked straight
+truth into hers. "I did not. Is that all?
+You said one question! Thank you ever and
+ever so much! Good-bye!" And he was gone.</p>
+
+<p>"It is quite evident that I am not a dipplo-mat,"
+said Margaret, with a laugh that ended
+in a sigh. "I wish Uncle John would come
+home!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+
+<h3>BLACK SPIRITS AND WHITE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The evening fell close and hot. Gerald
+Merryweather, taking his way to Fernley
+House, noticed the great white thunder-heads
+peering above the eastern horizon. "There'll
+be trouble by and by," he said.</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"I wonder, oh, I wonder,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">If they're afraid of thunder.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='unindent'>"Ever lapsing into immortal verse, my son.
+You are the Lost Pleiad of Literature, that's
+what you are; and a mighty neat phrase that
+is. Oh, my Philly, why aren't you here, to
+take notice of my coruscations? Full many a
+squib is born to blaze unseen, and waste its
+fizzing&mdash;Hello, you, sir! Stop a minute, will
+you?"</div>
+
+<p>A small boy was scudding along the path
+before him. He turned his head, but on see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>ing
+Gerald he only doubled his rate of speed.
+Merton was a good runner for his size, but it
+was ill trying to race the Gambolling Greyhound,
+as Gerald had been called at school.
+Two or three quick steps, two or three long,
+lopping bounds, and Master Merton was
+caught, clutched by the collar, and held aloft,
+wriggling and protesting.</p>
+
+<p>"You let me go!" whined Merton. "Oh,
+please Mr. Merryweather, don't stop me now.
+It's very important, indeed, it is."</p>
+
+<p>"Just what I was thinking," said Gerald.
+"We'll go along together, my son. I wouldn't
+squirm, if I were you; destructive to the
+collar; believe one who has suffered. What!
+it is not so many years. Take courage, small
+cat, and strive no more!"</p>
+
+<p>Merton, after one heroic wriggle, gave up
+the battle, and walked beside his captor in
+sullen silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Come!" said Gerald. "Let us be merry,
+my son. As to that noise, now!"</p>
+
+<p>"What noise?" asked Merton, peevishly.</p>
+
+<p>"The roarer, my charmer. Why beat about
+the bush? You frightened the old&mdash;that is,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>
+you alarmed both your cousins, with the joyful
+instrument known among the profane as a
+roarer. Tush! Why attempt concealment?
+Have I not roared, when time was? And a
+very pretty amusement, I could never deny;
+but I wouldn't try it again, that's all. You
+hear, young sir? I wouldn't try it again."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what you mean&mdash;" Merton
+began; but at this Gerald lifted him gently
+from the ground by his shirt-collar, and, waving
+him about, intimated gently that it would
+not be good for his health to tell lies.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I didn't do it, anyhow!" Merton
+protested. "Honest, I did not."</p>
+
+<p>"Honesty is not written in your expressive
+countenance, Master Merton Montfort," said
+Gerald. "However, it may be so. We shall
+see. Meantime, young fellow, and merely as
+between man and man, you understand, it
+would be money in your youthful pocket if
+you could acquire the habit of looking a
+person in the eyes, and not directing that
+cherubic gaze at the waistcoat buttons, or
+even the necktie, of your in-ter-loc-utor.
+Now, here we are at the house, and you may<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>
+go, my interesting popinjay. Bear in mind
+that my eye is upon you. Adieu! adieu!
+Rrrrrememberrrr me!!!"</p>
+
+<p>Gerald put such dramatic fervour into this
+farewell that Merton was as heartily frightened
+as he could have desired, and scurried
+away without stopping to look behind.</p>
+
+<p>"That's not such a very nice little boy, I
+believe," said Gerald. "T'other one is worth
+a cool dozen of Master Merton. Well, they
+won't do much mischief while I am to the
+fore. Though I should be loth to interfere
+with the end they probably have in view. I
+should like full well myself to make that&mdash; Ah,
+good evening, Miss Montfort!"</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>It was so hot after tea, that even Miss
+Sophronia made no suggestion of sitting in
+the house. They all assembled on the
+verandah, which faced south, so that generally
+here, if anywhere, a breath of evening
+coolness might be had. To-night, however,
+no such breath was to be felt. The thunder-heads
+had crept up, up, half-way across the
+sky; their snowy white had changed to black<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>ish
+blue; and now and again, there opened
+here or there what looked like a deep cavern,
+filled with lurid flame; and then would follow
+a long, rolling murmur, dying away into faint
+mutterings and losing itself among the treetops.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sophronia was very uneasy. At one
+moment she declared she must go into the
+house, she could not endure this; the next
+she vowed she would rather see the danger as
+it came, and she would never desert the
+others, never.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think there is danger, my dear
+young man?" she asked, for perhaps the tenth
+time.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, no!" said Gerald. "No more than
+usual, Miss Montfort. These trees, you see,
+are a great protection. If the lightning
+strikes one of them, of course it will divert
+the fluid from the house. If you have no
+iron about your person&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But here Miss Sophronia interrupted him.
+She begged to be excused for a moment, and
+went into the house. When she returned,
+her head was enveloped in what looked like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>
+a "tidy" of purple wool, while her feet were
+shuffling along in a pair of blue knitted
+slippers.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" she said, "I have removed every
+atom of metal, my dear young man, down to
+my hairpins, I assure you; and there were
+nails in my shoes, Margaret. My dear, I
+advise you to follow my example. So important,
+I always say, to obey the dictates of
+science. I shall always consider it a special
+providence that sent this dear young man
+to us at this trying time. Go at once,
+dearest Margaret, I implore you."</p>
+
+<p>But Margaret refused to adopt any such
+measures of precaution. She was enjoying
+the slow oncoming of the storm; she had
+seldom seen anything more beautiful, she
+thought, and Gerald agreed with her. He
+was sitting near her, and had taken Merton
+on his knee, to that young gentleman's manifest
+discomposure. He wriggled now and
+then, and muttered some excuse for getting
+down, but Gerald blandly assured him each
+time that he was not inconveniencing him in
+the least, and begged him to make himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>
+comfortable, and entirely at home. Meantime,
+Margaret had called Basil and Susan
+D. to her side, and was holding a hand of
+each, calling upon them from time to time
+to see the wonderful beauty of the approaching
+storm. They responded readily enough,
+and were really interested and impressed.
+Once or twice, it is true, Basil stole a glance
+at his sister, and generally found her looking
+at him in a puzzled, inquiring fashion; then
+he would shake his head slightly, and give
+himself up once more to watching the sky.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very extraordinary sky. The
+clouds, now deep purple, covered it almost
+from east to west; only low down in the
+west a band of angry orange still lingered,
+and added to the sinister beauty of the scene.
+The red caverns opened deeper and brighter,
+and now and again a long, zigzag flash of gold
+stood out for an instant against the black,
+and following it came crack upon crack of
+thunder, rolling and rumbling over their
+heads. But still the air hung close and
+heavy, still there was no breath of wind, no
+drop of rain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Sitting thus, and for the moment silent,
+there came, in a pause of the thunder, a
+new sound; a sound that some of them, at
+least, knew well. Close at hand, rising apparently
+from the very wall at their side,
+came the long, eerie wail of the night before.
+Louder and louder it swelled, till it
+rang like a shriek in their ears, then suddenly
+it broke and shuddered itself away, till only
+the ghost of a sound crept from their ears,
+and was lost. Margaret and Gerald both
+sprang to their feet, the girl held the children's
+hands fast in hers, the lad clutched the
+boy in his arms till he whimpered and cried;
+their eyes met, full of inquiry, the same
+thought flashing from blue eyes and gray.
+Not the children? What, then? Before
+Gerald could speak, Miss Sophronia was
+clinging to him again, shrieking and crying;
+calling upon him to save her; but this
+time Gerald put her aside with little ceremony.</p>
+
+<p>"If you'll take this boy!" he cried.
+"Hold him tight, please, and don't let him
+get off. I'm going&mdash;if I may?" he looked
+swift inquiry at Margaret.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, yes!" cried the girl. "Do go!
+We are all right. Cousin Sophronia, you
+<i>must</i> let him go."</p>
+
+<p>Dropping Merton into the affrighted lady's
+arms, the lithe, active youth was in the house
+in an instant, following the Voice of Fernley.
+There it came again, rising, rising,&mdash;the cry
+of a lost soul, the wail of a repentant spirit.</p>
+
+<p>"A roarer, by all means!" said young Merryweather.
+"But where, and by whom?"
+He ran from side to side, laying his ear
+against the wall here, there, following the
+sound. Suddenly he stopped short, like a
+dog pointing. Here, in this thickness of the
+wall, was it? Then, there must be a recess,
+a something. What corresponded to this
+jog? Ha! that little low door, almost hidden
+by the great picture of the boar-hunt.
+Locked? No; only sticking, from not having
+been opened, perhaps, for years. It yielded.
+He rushed in,&mdash;the door closed behind him
+with a spring. He found himself in total
+darkness,&mdash;darkness filled with a hideous
+cry, that rang out sharp and piercing,&mdash;then
+fell into sudden silence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Is it you, Master Merton?" said a whisper.
+"I didn't wait; I thought maybe&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Gerald stretched out his arm, and grasped
+a solid form. Instantly he was grasped in
+return by a pair of strong arms,&mdash;grasped
+and held with as powerful a grip as his
+own. A full minute passed, two creatures
+clutching each other in the pit-dark, listening
+to each other's breathing, counting each
+other's heart-beats. Then&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you?" asked Gerald, under his
+breath.</p>
+
+<p>"None of your business!" was the reply,
+low, but prompt. "Who are you, if it comes
+to that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why,&mdash;why, you're a woman!"</p>
+
+<p>"And you're a man, and that's worse.
+What are you doing here?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am taking tea here. I'm a visitor. I
+have been here all the evening."</p>
+
+<p>"And I've been here twenty years. I'm
+the cook."</p>
+
+<p>The young man loosed his hold, and
+dropped on the floor. He rocked back
+and forth, in silent convulsions of laughter.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The cook! Great C&aelig;sar, the cook! Oh,
+dear me! Stop me, somebody. What&mdash;what
+did you do it for?" he gasped, between
+the paroxysms.</p>
+
+<p>"Hush! Young Mr. Merryweather, is it?
+Do be quiet, sir! We're close by the verandah.
+Was&mdash;was she frightened, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"She? Who? One of 'em was."</p>
+
+<p>"She&mdash;the old one. I wouldn't frighten
+Miss Margaret; but she has too much sense.
+Was the other one scared, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Into fits, very near. You did it well,
+Mrs. Cook! I couldn't have done it better,&mdash;look
+here! I shall have to tell them,
+though. I came expressly to find out&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Groping in the dark, Frances clutched his
+arm again, this time in a gentler grasp.
+"Don't you do it, sir!" she whispered.
+"Young gentleman, don't you do it! If
+you do, she'll stay here all her days. No
+one can't stand her, sir, and this were the
+only way. Hark! Save us! What's that?"</p>
+
+<p>No glimmer of light could penetrate to the
+closet where they stood, in the thickness of
+the wall, but a tremendous peal of thunder<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>
+shook the house, and Miss Sophronia's voice
+could be heard calling frantically on Gerald
+to come back.</p>
+
+<p>"I must go," said Gerald. "I&mdash;I won't
+give you away, Mrs. Cook. Shake!"</p>
+
+<p>"You're a gentleman, sir," replied Frances.
+They shook hands in the dark, and
+Gerald ran out. Even as he opened the
+door the storm broke. A violent blast of
+wind, a blinding flare, a rattling volley
+of thunder, and down came the rain.</p>
+
+<p>A rush, a roar, the trampling of a thousand
+horses; and overhead the great guns
+bellowing, and the flashes coming and going&mdash;it
+was a wild scene. The family had
+come in, and were all standing in the front
+hall. All? No, two, only,&mdash;Margaret and
+Miss Sophronia. In the confusion and tumult,
+the children had escaped, and were
+gone. Margaret, a little pale, but perfectly
+composed, met Gerald with a smile, as if it
+were the most ordinary thing in the world
+for young gentlemen to walk out of the wall.
+She was supporting Miss Sophronia, who had
+quite lost her head, and was crying piteously<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
+that they would die together, and that whoever
+escaped must take her watch and chain
+back to William. "Poor William, what will
+become of him and those helpless babes?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right, Miss Montfort," said Gerald,
+cheerfully. "I ran the noise down, and it
+was the simplest thing in the world. Nothing
+to be alarmed about, I do assure you;
+nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"What was it?" asked Margaret, in an
+undertone.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you by and by," replied the
+young man, in the same tone. "Not now,
+please; I promised&mdash;somebody. You shall
+know all in good time."</p>
+
+<p>His look of bright confidence was not to be
+resisted. Margaret nodded cheerfully, and
+submitted to be mystified in her own home
+by an almost total stranger. Indeed, the
+Voice of Fernley had suddenly sunk into
+insignificance beside the Voice of Nature.
+The turmoil outside grew more and more
+furious. At length a frightful crash announced
+that the lightning had struck somewhere
+very near the house. This was the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>
+last straw for poor Miss Sophronia. She
+fled up-stairs, imploring Gerald and Margaret
+to follow her. "Let us die together!" she
+cried. "I am responsible for your young
+lives; we will pass away in one embrace.
+The long closet, Margaret! It is our only
+chance of life,&mdash;the long closet!"</p>
+
+<p>The long closet, as it was called, was in
+reality a long enclosed passage, leading from
+the Blue Room, where Miss Sophronia slept,
+to one of the spare chambers beyond. It was
+a dim place, lighted only by a transom above
+the door. Here were kept various ancient
+family relics which would not bear the light
+of day; a few rusty pictures, some ancient
+hats, and, notably, a bust of some deceased
+Montfort, which stood on a shelf, covered
+with a white sheet, like a half-length ghost.
+Margaret did not think this gloomy place at
+all a cheerful place for a nervous woman in
+a thunder-storm; so, nodding to Gerald to
+follow, she ran up-stairs. But before she
+reached the landing, terrific shrieks began to
+issue from the upper floor; shrieks so agonising,
+so ear-piercing, that they dominated even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>
+the clamour of the storm. Margaret flew, and
+Gerald flew after. What new portent was
+here? Breathless, Margaret reached the door
+of the long closet. It stood open. On the
+floor inside crouched Miss Sophronia, uttering
+the frantic screams which rang through the
+house. Apparently she had lost the use of
+her limbs from terror, else she would not
+have remained motionless before the figure
+which was advancing towards her from the
+gloom of the long passage. First a dusky
+whiteness glimmered from the black of the
+further end, where the half-ghost sat on
+its shelf; then gradually the whiteness
+detached itself, took shape,&mdash;if it could be
+called shape,&mdash;emerged into the dim half-light,&mdash;came
+on slowly, silently. Shrouded,
+like the ghostly bust behind it, tall and
+slender, with dark locks escaping beneath the
+hood or cowl that drooped low over its face,&mdash;with
+one hand raised, and pointing stiffly
+at the unhappy woman,&mdash;the figure came on&mdash;and
+on&mdash;till it saw Margaret. Then it
+stopped. Next came in view the bright, eager
+face of Gerald Merryweather, looking over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>
+Margaret's shoulder. And at that, the spectre
+began, very slowly, and with ineffable dignity,
+to retreat.</p>
+
+<p>"Exclusive party," whispered Gerald. "Objects
+to our society, Miss Montfort. Shall I
+head him off, or let him go?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret made no reply; she was bending
+over the poor lady on the floor, trying to
+make her hear, trying to check the screams
+which still rang out with piercing force.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 264px;">
+<img src="images/gs07.png" width="264" height="400" alt="A LIVELY GHOST." title="A LIVELY GHOST." />
+<span class="caption">A LIVELY GHOST.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Cousin Sophronia! Cousin, do stop! Do
+listen to me! It is a trick, a naughty, naughty
+trick; nothing else in the world. Do, please,
+stop screaming, and listen to me. Oh, what
+shall I do with her?" This remark was
+addressed to Gerald; but that young gentleman
+was no longer beside her. He had been
+keeping his eye on the spectre, which slowly,
+softly glided back and back, until it melted
+once more into the thick blackness at the
+further end. Gerald dodged out into the hall,
+and ran along the outer passage, to meet, as
+he expected, the ghost full and fair at the
+other door. "Run!" cried a small voice.
+"I'll hold him; run!" Gerald was grasped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>
+once more, this time by a pair of valiant little
+hands which did their best, and which he put
+aside very gently, seeing a petticoat beneath
+them. "You sha'n't catch him!" cried the
+second spectre, clinging stoutly to his legs.</p>
+
+<div class='poem2'>
+"Twice he wrung her hands in twain,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But the small hands closed again!"</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p>Meantime the spectre-in-chief had darted
+back into the closed passage. There was a
+crash. The half-ghost toppled over as he
+ran against it, and was shivered on the floor,
+adding another noise to the confusion. The
+phantom raced along the passage, took a flying
+leap over Miss Sophronia's prostrate form,
+revealing, had any looked, an unsuspected
+blackness of leg beneath the flowing white,
+and scudded along the square upper hall. By
+this time Gerald was at his heels again, and a
+pretty race it was. Round the hall, up the
+stairs, and round the landing of the attic flight.
+At the attic door the spectre wavered an
+instant,&mdash;then turned, and dashed down-stairs
+again. Once more round the upper hall, now
+down the great front staircase, gathering his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
+skirts as he went, the black legs now in
+good evidence, and making wonderful play. A
+good runner, surely. But the Greyhound was
+gaining; he was upon him. The phantom gave
+a wild shriek, gained the front door with one
+desperate leap, and plunged, followed by his
+pursuer, into the arms of a gentleman who
+stood in the doorway, in the act of entering.</p>
+
+<p>"Easy, there!" said Mr. Montfort, receiving
+pursuer and pursued with impartial calm. "Is
+it the Day of Judgment, or what?"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+
+<h3>A DEPARTURE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"I am extremely sorry, Sophronia, that you
+were so alarmed last night. I trust you feel
+no ill effects this morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ill effects! My dear John, I am a wreck!
+Simply a wreck, mentally and physically. I
+shall never recover from it&mdash;never."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't say that, Cousin Sophronia!"
+exclaimed Margaret, who was really much distressed
+at all that passed.</p>
+
+<p>"My love, if it is the truth, I must say
+it. Truth, Margaret, is what I live for. No,
+I shall never recover, I feel it. My prayer is
+that these unhappy children may never know
+that they are the cause of my untimely&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Has Basil made his apology?" asked Mr.
+Montfort, abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, John, yes; I am bound to say he
+has, though he showed little feeling in it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>
+Not a tenth part so much as little Merton,
+who was in real sorrow,&mdash;actually shed tears,&mdash;although
+he had no hand in the cruel deceit.
+Ah! Merton is the only one of those
+children who has any heart."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed?" said Mr. Montfort, "I didn't
+know it was as bad as that."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite, I assure you, dearest John. If it
+were not for my poor William and his children,
+I should take Merton with me and be a
+mother to him. His nerves, like mine, are
+shattered by the terrible occurrences of the
+last two nights. He was positively hysterical
+as he pointed out to me&mdash;what I had
+already pointed out to you, Margaret&mdash;that
+the <i>real thing</i> had not been explained. I
+might, in time, live down the effect of those
+children's wicked jest; but the Voice of Fernley
+has never been explained, and never will
+be."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort pulled his moustache, and
+looked out of the window, observing the
+prospect; but Margaret cried:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Cousin Sophronia, you are wrong;
+indeed, indeed you are! Young Mr. Merry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>weather
+found out all about it last night, only
+he had not time to tell us. He said it was
+something perfectly simple, and that there
+was no need of being alarmed in the least."</p>
+
+<p>"By the way," said Mr. Montfort, "I have
+a note from the lad this morning. He found
+some special tools were needed, and went up
+to town by the early train to see about them.
+May be gone a day or two, he says. What
+was the noise like, Margaret?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret was about to tell all she knew,
+but Miss Sophronia interrupted. "Spare me,
+dearest Margaret, spare me the recalling of
+details. I am still too utterly broken,&mdash;I
+shall faint, I know I shall. John, it was simply
+the voice that was heard ten, or it may
+be fifteen years ago, when I was a young girl.
+You must remember; it is impossible but
+that you must remember."</p>
+
+<p>"I remember perfectly," said Mr. Montfort.
+"That was thirty years ago, Sophronia; that
+was in 1866. Oh, yes, I remember." Again
+Mr. Montfort became absorbed in the view
+from the window. His face was very grave;
+why, then, did the buttons on his waistcoat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
+shake? "And Master Merton was frightened,
+was he?" he resumed, presently. "Ha! that
+looks bad. Good morning, Jones," as a respectable-looking
+man in livery came up the
+gravel walk. "A note for me? no answer?
+thanks." The man touched his hat, and departed;
+Mr. Montfort opened the pretty, pearl-coloured
+note, and read, as follows:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">"<span class="smcap">Dear John</span>:
+
+<p>"Don't punish the children; it was partly my
+fault, and partly your own. I supposed you expected
+something to happen, and I thought the old trick
+would serve as well as a new one.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span style="margin-right: 2em;">"As ever,</span><br />
+<span class="smcap">E. P.</span>"<br />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Humph!" said Mr. Montfort, twisting the
+note, and frowning at the window. "Precisely!
+and so, you were saying, Sophronia&mdash;ahem!
+that is, you are obliged to leave us?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my dearest John, I must go. I could
+not, no! I could not sleep another night beneath
+this roof. I have told Willis. I am
+cut to the heart at leaving you, so helpless,
+with only this poor child here, and those&mdash;those
+dreadful children of Anthony's. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
+would so gladly have made a home for you,
+my poor cousin. I live only for others; but
+still it seems my duty <i>to</i> live, and I am convinced
+that another night here would be my
+death."</p>
+
+<p>"I will not attempt to change your purpose,
+Sophronia. At the same time I am bound to
+tell you that&mdash;a&mdash;that the disturbance of
+which you speak is of no supernatural kind,
+but is attributable to&mdash;to human agency altogether.
+If you wish, I will have it looked
+into at once, or we can wait till young Merryweather
+comes back. He seemed to know
+about it, you say, Margaret. And&mdash;but at
+any rate, Sophronia, we can write you the
+sequel, and, if you feel uneasy, why, as you
+say&mdash; You have ordered Willis? Then I'll
+go and get some tags for your trunks."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort retired with some alacrity,
+and Margaret, with an unexplained feeling
+of guilt at her heart, offered to help Miss
+Sophronia with her packing.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later the lady was making her
+adieux. The carriage was at the door, Willis
+had strapped on the two trunks, and all was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>
+ready. Mr. Montfort shook his cousin by the
+hand, and was sorry that her visit had ended
+in such an untoward manner. Margaret
+begged Cousin Sophronia's pardon for anything
+she might have done amiss. Indeed, the
+girl's heart was full of a vague remorse. She
+had tried, but she felt that she might have
+tried harder to make things go smoothly.
+But Miss Sophronia bore, she declared, no
+malice to any one.</p>
+
+<p>"I came, dear John, determined to do my
+best, to be a sister to you in every way; it
+will always be a comfort to think that I have
+been with you these two months. It may be
+that some time, when my nerves are restored,
+I may be able to come to Fernley again; if
+you should make any changes, you understand
+me. Indeed, a complete change, my dear
+cousin, is the thing I should most recommend.
+Missing me as you will,&mdash;a companion of your
+own age,&mdash;you might still marry, dearest
+John, you might indeed. Emily&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That will do, Sophronia!" said Mr. Montfort,
+sternly. "Have you everything you
+want for the journey?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Everything, I think, dear John. Ah!
+well, good-bye, Margaret! It has been a blow
+to find that you do not love me, my dear,
+as I have loved you, but we must bear our
+burdens."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you&mdash;what can you mean,
+Cousin Sophronia?" asked Margaret, turning
+crimson. "I am sure I have tried&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! well, my dear, one gives oneself
+away," said the lady. "You said in your letter
+to your cousin,&mdash;I recall the precise words&mdash;'I
+have tried to love her, but I cannot
+succeed.' Yes; very painful to one who has
+a heart like mine; but I find so few&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Cousin Sophronia," cried the girl, all softer
+thoughts now merged in a burning resentment.
+"You&mdash;you read my letter, the letter that
+was on my own desk, in my own room?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, my love, I did. I hope I know
+something about young girls and their ways;
+I considered it my duty, my sacred duty, to
+see what you wrote."</p>
+
+<p>"You seem to know little about the ways
+of gentle people!" cried Margaret, unable for
+once to restrain herself. Her uncle laid his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>
+hand on her arm. "Steady, little woman!"
+he said. His quiet, warning voice brought
+the angry girl to herself, the more quickly
+that she knew his sympathy was all with her.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I should not have said that, Cousin
+Sophronia," she said. "I beg your pardon!
+Good-bye!"</p>
+
+<p>She could not say more; she stood still,
+with burning cheeks, while Mr. Montfort
+helped the lady into the carriage.</p>
+
+<p>"A pleasant journey to you, Sophronia,"
+he said, as he closed the door. "Willis&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye!" cried Miss Sophronia, out of
+the window. "Bless you, dearest John! Margaret,
+my love, I shall always think of you
+most tenderly, believe me, in spite of everything.
+It is impossible for me to harbour resentment.
+No, my child, I shall always love
+you as a sister. I have taken the old vinaigrette
+with me, as a little souvenir of you; I
+knew it would give you pleasure to have me
+use it. Bless you! And, John, if you want
+me to look up some good servants for you, I
+know of an excellent woman who would be
+the very thing&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Willis!" said Mr. Montfort again. "You'll
+miss that train, Sophronia, if you don't,&mdash;<i>bon
+voyage!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort stood for some seconds looking
+after the carriage as it drove off; then he
+drew a long breath, and threw out his arms,
+opening his broad chest.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha!" said he. "So that is over. Here
+endeth the&mdash; What, crying, May Margaret?
+Come and sit here beside me, child; or shall
+we come out and see the roses? Really astonishing
+to have this number of roses in August;
+but some of these late kinds are very fine, I
+think."</p>
+
+<p>Chatting quietly and cheerfully, he moved
+from one shrub to another, while Margaret
+wiped her eyes, and gradually quieted her
+troubled spirit.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Uncle John!" she said,
+presently. "You know, don't you? You
+always know, just as papa did. But&mdash;but
+I never heard of any one's doing such a thing,
+did you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you, my dear? Well, you see, you
+didn't know your Cousin Sophronia when she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
+was a girl. And&mdash;let us be just," he added.
+"You, belonging to the new order, have no
+idea of what many people thought and did
+forty years ago. I have no doubt, from my
+recollection of my Aunt Melissa, Sophronia's
+mother, that she read all her children's letters.
+I know she searched my pockets once, thinking
+I had stolen sugar; I hadn't, that time,
+and my white rat was in my pocket, and bit
+her, and I was glad."</p>
+
+<p>Seeing Margaret laugh again, Mr. Montfort
+added, in a different tone, "And now, I must
+see those boys."</p>
+
+<p>The children were sent for to the study,
+where they remained for some time. Basil
+and Susan D. came out looking very grave;
+they went up to the nursery in silence, and
+sat on the sofa, rubbing their heads together,
+and now and then exchanging a murmur of
+sympathy and understanding. Merton remained
+after the others, and when he emerged
+from the fatal door, he was weeping profusely,
+and refused to be comforted by Elizabeth;
+and was found an hour after, pinching Chico's
+tail, and getting bitten in return. Telling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>
+Margaret about it afterward, Mr. Montfort
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"Basil and the little girl tell a perfectly
+straight story. It is just as I supposed; they
+were trying the old ghost trick that we other
+boys, your father and Richard and I, Margaret,
+played on Sophronia years ago. If the
+thunder-storm had not brought you all up-stairs,
+there would have been some very pretty
+ghost-gliding, and the poor soul would very
+likely have been frightened into a real fit instead
+of an imaginary one. Children don't
+realise that sort of thing; I certainly did not,
+nor my brothers; but I think these two realise
+it now, and they are not likely to try anything
+of the kind again. As for the noise,&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Uncle John, I am really much more
+puzzled about that noise, for, of course, I saw
+the other foolishness with my eyes."</p>
+
+<p>"Well!" said Mr. Montfort, comfortably,
+"we used to make that noise with a thing
+we called a roarer; I don't know whether
+they have such things now. You take a
+tomato-can, and put a string through it,
+and then you&mdash; It really does make a fine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>
+noise, very much what you describe. Yes,
+I have that on my conscience, too, Margaret.
+You see, I told you I knew this kind of child,
+and so I do, and for good reason. But Basil
+won't say anything at all about the matter.
+He says it was not his hunt, and he will tell
+all that he did, but cannot tell on others;
+which is entirely proper. But when I turned
+to that other little scamp, Merton, I could
+get nothing but floods of tears, and entreaties
+that I would ask Frances. 'Frances knows
+all about it!' he said, over and over."</p>
+
+<p>"And have you seen Frances?"</p>
+
+<p>"N&mdash;no," replied Mr. Montfort, rather
+slowly. "I am going to see Frances now."</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, a few minutes later, Frances,
+bustling about her kitchen, became aware of
+her master standing in the doorway. She became
+aware of him, I say, but it was with
+"the tail of her eye" only; she took no
+notice of him, and went on rattling dish-pans
+at an alarming rate. She appeared to be
+house-cleaning; at all events, the usually neat
+kitchen was in a state of upheaval, and the
+chairs and tables, tubs and clothes-horses,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>
+were so disposed that it was next to impossible
+for any one to enter. Moreover, Frances
+apparently had a toothache, for her face was
+tied up in a fiery red handkerchief; and
+when Mr. Montfort saw that handkerchief, he
+looked grave, and hung about the door more
+like a schoolboy than a dignified gentleman
+and the proprietor of Fernley House.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, Frances," he said at
+length, in a conciliatory tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, sir," said Frances; and
+plunged her mop into a pail of hot water.</p>
+
+<p>"You have a toothache, Frances? I am
+very sorry."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, I have; thank you, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"A&mdash;Frances&mdash;I came to ask if you can
+tell me anything about the strange noise that
+frightened the ladies so, last night and the
+night before."</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir," said Frances. "I can't tell
+you nothing about it. There do be rats
+enough in this house, Mr. Montfort, to make
+any kind of a noise; and I do wish, sir, as
+the next time you are in town, you would get
+me a rat-trap as is good for something.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>
+There's nothing but trash, as the rats won't
+look at, and small blame to them. I can't be
+expected to do without things to do with,
+Mr. Montfort, and I was saying so to Elizabeth
+only this morning."</p>
+
+<p>"I will see to the traps, Frances. But this
+noise that I am speaking of; Master Merton
+says&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And I was wishful to ask you, sir, if you
+would please tell Master Merton to keep out
+of my kitchen, and not come bothering here
+every hour in the day. The child is that
+greedy, he do eat himself mostly ill every
+day, sir, as his father would be uneasy if he
+knew it, sir. And to have folks hanging
+round my kitchen when I am busy is a thing
+I never could abide, Mr. John, as you know
+very well, sir, and I hope you'll excuse me for
+speaking out; and if you'd go along, sir, and
+be so kind, maybe I could get through my
+cleaning so as to have dinner not above half
+an hour or so late, though I'm doubtful myself,
+harried as I have been."</p>
+
+<p>"I really don't see what I am to do with
+Frances," said Mr. Montfort, as he went back<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>
+to his study; "she grows more and more impracticable.
+She will be giving me notice to
+quit one of these days, if I don't mind. I
+am very sure the house belongs to her, and
+not to me. But, until Master Gerald Merryweather
+comes back, I really don't see how I
+am to find out who worked that roarer."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+
+<h3>PEACE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Peace reigned once more at Fernley House;
+peace and cheerfulness, and much joy. It
+was not the same peace as of old, when Margaret
+and her uncle lived their quiet t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te
+life, and nothing came to break the even
+calm of the days. Very different was the life
+of to-day. The peace was spiritual purely, for
+the lively and varied round of daily life gave
+little time for repose and meditation, at least
+for Margaret. She had begun to give the
+children short but regular lessons in the morning,
+finding that the day was not only more
+profitable but pleasanter for them and for all,
+if it began with a little study. And the lessons
+were a delight to her. Remembering her
+struggles with Peggy,&mdash;dear Peggy,&mdash;it was
+a joy to teach these young creatures the begin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>nings
+of her beloved English history, and to
+see how they leaped at it, even as she herself
+had leaped so few years ago. They carried it
+about with them all day. Margaret never
+knew whom to expect to dinner in these days.
+Now a scowling potentate would stalk in with
+folded arms and announce that he was William
+the Conqueror, and demand the whereabouts of
+Hereward the Wake (who was pretty sure to
+emerge from under the table, and engage in
+sanguinary combat, just after he had brushed
+his hair, and have to be sent up to the nursery
+to brush it over again); now a breathless pair
+would rush in, crying that they were the
+Princes in the Tower, and would she please
+save them, for that horrid old beast of a Gloster
+was coming after them just as fast as he
+could come. Indeed, Margaret had to make
+a rule that they should be their own selves,
+and no one else, in the evening when Uncle
+John came home, for fear of more confusion
+than he would like.</p>
+
+<p>"But I get so <i>used</i> to being Richard," cried
+Basil, after a day of crusader-life. "You can't
+do a king well if you have to keep stopping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>
+and being a boy half the time. Don't you see
+that yourself, Cousin Margaret?"</p>
+
+<p>Yes, Margaret saw that, but she submitted
+that she liked boys, and that it was trying for
+a person in private life, like herself, to live all
+day in royal society, especially when royalty
+was so excited as the Majesty of England was
+at this juncture.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but why can't you be some one too,
+Cousin Margaret? I suppose Susan D. would
+hate to give up being Berengaria, after you
+gave her that lovely gold veil&mdash;I say, doesn't
+she look bul&mdash;doesn't she look pretty in it?
+I never thought Susan D. would come out
+pretty, but it's mostly the way you do her
+hair&mdash;what was I saying, Cousin Margaret?
+Oh, yes, but there are other people you could
+be, lots and lots of them. And&mdash;Merton
+doesn't half do Saladin. He keeps getting
+mad when I run him through the body, and I
+<i>can't</i> make him understand that I don't mean
+those nasty, fat, black things in ponds, when
+I call him 'learned leech,' and you know he
+<i>has</i> to be the leech, it says so in the 'Talisman.'
+And so perhaps you would be Saladin, and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>
+can be Sir Kenneth, though he's too sneaky
+for him, too. Or else you could be the hermit,
+Cousin Margaret. Oh, do be the hermit!
+Theodoric of Engedi, you know, the Flail of
+the Desert, that's a splendid one to do. All
+you have to do is keep jumping about and
+waving something, and crying out, 'I am
+Theodoric of Engedi! I am the Flail of the
+Desert!' Come on, Cousin Margaret, oh, I
+say, do!" And Susan D., tugging at her
+cousin's gown, shouted in unison, "Oh, I say,
+do, Cousin Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>If any one had told Margaret Montfort, three
+months before this, that she would, before the
+end of the summer, be capering about the garden,
+waving her staff, and proclaiming herself
+aloud to be the highly theatrical personage
+described above, she would have opened her
+eyes in gentle and rather scornful amazement.
+But Margaret was learning many things in
+these days, and among them the art of being
+a child. Her life had been mostly spent with
+older people; she had never known till now
+the rapture of being a little girl, a little boy.
+Now, seeing it in these bright faces, that never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>
+failed to grow brighter at sight of her, she felt
+the joy reflected in her own face, in her own
+heart; and it was good to let all the quiet,
+contained maiden ways go, once in a while,
+and just be a child with the children, or a
+Flail of the Desert, as in the present instance.</p>
+
+<p>John Montfort, leaning on the gate,
+watched the pretty play, well pleased.
+"They have done her all the good in the
+world," he said to himself. "It isn't only
+what she has done for them, bless her, but
+for her, too, it has been a great thing. I was
+selfish and stupid to think that a young creature
+could go on growing to fulness, without
+other young creatures about it. How will
+she feel, I wonder, about their going? How
+would she like&mdash;"</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 321px;">
+<img src="images/gs08.png" width="321" height="400" alt="&quot;THE &#39;FLAIL OF THE DESERT.&#39;&quot;" title="&quot;THE &#39;FLAIL OF THE DESERT.&#39;&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE &#39;FLAIL OF THE DESERT.&#39;&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>At this moment he was discovered by
+Basil, who charged him with a joyous shout.
+"Oh, here is Uncle John! Oh, Uncle John,
+don't you want to be Saladin, please?
+Here's Merton has hurt his leg and gone off
+in a sulk, and I'll get you a <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'scemitar'">scimitar</ins> in a
+minute&mdash;it's the old sickle, and Willis says
+it's so rusty you can't really do much mischief<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>
+with it; and here's the Hermit of
+Engedi, you know, and he can shout&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But, alas, for the Lion-hearted! When he
+turned to summon his hermit, he saw no flying
+figure, brandishing a walking-stick and
+crying aloud, but a demure young lady,
+smoothing her hair hurriedly and shaking
+out the folds of her dress, as she hastened to
+meet her uncle.</p>
+
+<p>"Bravo!" said Uncle John. "But why
+did you stop, Meg? It wouldn't have been
+the first time I had played Saladin, I assure
+you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, uncle! I am really too much out of
+breath to play any more. And besides, it is
+near tea-time, and the children must go and
+get ready. I will come in a moment, Susan
+dear, and do your hair. Are there any letters,
+Uncle John? Oh, two, from the girls; how
+perfectly delightful! Oh, I must run up, but
+we'll read them after tea, shall we, Uncle
+John?"</p>
+
+<p>"With all my heart, my dear; and I have
+a letter, too, about which I shall want to consult
+you. Go now, or Susan D. will be trying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>
+to braid her own hair, a thing to be
+avoided, I have observed."</p>
+
+<p>Tea over, and Mr. Montfort seated at ease
+with his cigar, the children engaged in an
+enchanting game of Bat (played with worn-out
+umbrellas, from which the sticks had been
+taken: this game is to be highly recommended
+where there is space for flapping and
+swooping), Margaret opened her letters; reopened
+them, rather, for it must be confessed
+that she had peeped into both while she was
+braiding her own hair and changing her dress
+for the pretty evening gown her uncle always
+liked to see.</p>
+
+<p>"Peggy is actually off for school, Uncle
+John. It does not seem possible that we are
+in September, and the summer really gone.
+She seems in high spirits over it, dear child.
+Listen!</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">"<span class="smcap">Darling Dearest Margaret</span>:
+
+<p>"I am going to-morrow; I waited till the last
+minute, so that I could tell you the last of me. My
+trunk is almost all packed, and I really think I have
+done it pretty well. Thank you, ever and ever and
+ever so much, for the nice things to tie up my shoes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span>
+in. They are just lovely, and so is the shoe-bag to
+hang against the wall. I mean to put away every
+shoe just the very minute I take it off, and not have
+them kicking about the closet floor at all, ever. And
+the combing-sack! Oh, Margaret, it is a perfect
+beauty! Ever so much too pretty to do my hair in,
+and mother says so, too, but I shall, because you
+made it for me to, and think of you all the time I am,
+and&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I got a little mixed there, but you will know what
+I mean, dearest Margaret. Tell Uncle John I am so
+perfectly delighted with the lovely ring, I don't
+know <i>what</i> to <i>do</i>. Oh, Margaret, you know how I
+always wanted a ring, and how I used to admire that
+sapphire of Rita's; and to think of having a sapphire
+ring myself&mdash;why, I can hardly believe it even now!
+I couldn't go to sleep for ever so long last night, just
+watching it in the moonlight. Of course I shall write
+to Uncle John and thank him myself, but I couldn't
+wait just to let him know how happy I was. (Margaret,
+if you think he would like it, or at least
+wouldn't mind it, you might give him a hug just now
+and say I sent it, but don't unless you are <i>perfectly
+sure</i> he wouldn't mind, because you know how I <i>love</i>
+Uncle John, even if I am just the least bit afraid of
+him, and I'm sure that is natural when you think
+what a goose I am.)"</p></div>
+
+<p>Margaret paused, laughing, to throw her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span>
+arms around her uncle, and tell him that this
+was "Peggy's hug;" then she went on:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"I was so glad to get your last letter, and to hear
+all about dear, darling Fernley, and Uncle John, and
+Elizabeth and Frances, and all the funny things those
+funny children have been doing. Margaret, they are
+almost exactly like us children when we were their
+age. I never began to think about growing up till
+I read about how they carry on, and then saw that
+we didn't act so any more, Jean, and Flora, and I.
+Jean is younger than me, of course, but she's more
+grown up, I really think. I think you must have
+a lovely time, now that&mdash;well, you said I mustn't
+call names, and so I won't, but I know just exactly
+what kind of a person she was, Margaret, and <i>so do
+you</i>, and you can't deny it, so now!</p>
+
+<p>"Margaret, of course I do feel rather scared about
+school, for I am still very ignorant, and I suppose all
+the girls will know about forty thousand times as
+much as I do, and they will call me stupid, and I
+know I am; but I mean to be brave, and remember
+all the things you have said, and mother has helped
+me, too, oh, a lot, and she says she just wishes she
+had had the chance when she was a girl, and I know
+now just how she feels. And then when I come
+home, you see, I can teach the little girls, and that
+will be great. But I never shall try to teach them
+spelling, or history, for you know I cannot; and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>
+cannot remember to this day who Thomas &agrave; Bucket
+was, and why they called him that.</p>
+
+<p>"Hugh came in just now, and I asked him that,
+and he laughed, and said Thomas &agrave; Bucket was certainly
+pale before they got through with him. I
+don't know what he means, but he says you will, so
+I write it down. Good-bye, dearest, darling Margaret.
+Give heaps and oceans and lots of love to Uncle
+John, and most of all to your own darling self, from</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+"<span class="smcap">Peggy.</span>"<br />
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I wonder how Peggy will get on at
+school?" said Margaret. "Very well, I
+should think. Certainly no one can help
+liking her, dear girl; and she will learn a
+great deal, I am sure."</p>
+
+<p>"She'll never learn English history," said
+Mr. Montfort; "but after all, there are other
+things, May Margaret, though you are loth
+to acknowledge it."</p>
+
+<p>"And now for Rita. I'll just run through
+it again, Uncle John, to see&mdash;oh! oh, yes!
+The first part is all just that she wants to see
+me, and so on,&mdash;her wild way. She has had
+the most wonderful summer,&mdash;'the Pyrenees,
+Margaret! Never before have I seen great
+mountains, that scale the heavens, you understand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span>
+The Titans are explained to me. I
+have seen, and my soul has arisen to their
+height. I could dwell with thee, Marguerite,
+on snow-peaks tinged with morning rose,
+peaks that touch the stars, that veil themselves
+in clouds of evening;' perhaps I'll
+skip a little here, Uncle John. Interlaken,&mdash;the
+Jungfrau,&mdash;oh, she <i>is</i> having a glorious
+time. Oh! oh, dear me, uncle!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my dear? She has not fallen off
+the Jungfrau?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not that; but she&mdash;she is&mdash;or she
+thinks she is&mdash;going to be married."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort whistled. "To the Matterhorn,
+or to some promising young avalanche?
+Pray enlighten me, my dear."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! don't laugh, Uncle John, I am afraid
+it may be serious. A young Cuban, she says,
+a soldier, of course." Margaret ran her eyes
+down the page, but found nothing sober
+enough to read aloud. "He seems to be a
+very wonderful person," she said, timidly.
+"Handsome, and a miracle of courage,&mdash;and
+a military genius; if war should come, Rita
+thinks he will be commander-in-chief of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span>
+Cuban army. You don't think it will really
+come to war, Uncle John?"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot tell, Margaret," said Mr. Montfort,
+gravely. "Things are looking rather
+serious, but no one can see just what is coming
+yet. And this seems to be a bona fide engagement?
+It isn't little Fernando, is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"No! oh, no! She says&mdash;she is sorry for
+Fernando, but he will always be her brother.
+This one's name is&mdash;let me see. Jos&eacute; Maria
+Salvador Santillo de Santayana. What a magnificent
+name! He had followed her from
+Cuba, and he has Uncle Richard's permission
+to pay his addresses to Rita, and she says&mdash;she
+says he is the dream of her life, embodied
+in the form of a Greek hero, with the soul of
+a poet, and the intellect of a Shakespeare. So
+I suppose it is all right, uncle; only, she is
+very young."</p>
+
+<p>"Young! My dear child, she was grown
+up while you were still in the nursery," said
+Mr. Montfort. "According to Spanish ideas,
+it is high time for her to be married, and I
+am sure I wish the dear girl all happiness.
+We must look over the family trinkets,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span>
+Margaret, and find something for our bird
+of Paradise. There are some pretty bits of
+jewelry; but that will keep. Now, if you
+can stop wondering and romancing for a
+moment, May Margaret, I, too, have a letter,
+about which I wish to consult you."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, uncle, oh, yes! I hope he is good
+as well as handsome, don't you? She says
+the Santillo nose is the marvel of all Cuba."</p>
+
+<p>"The Santillo nose may be pickled in brine,
+my dear, for ought I care; I really want your
+attention, Margaret, and you must come down
+from the clouds. Here is Anthony Montfort
+writing for his children."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>What!</i>" cried Margaret, waking suddenly
+from her dream. "What did you say about
+the children, Uncle John? Cousin Anthony
+writing for them? What can you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, my love, I mean writing for them,"
+said Mr. Montfort, calmly. "He is, you may
+remember, a relation of theirs, a father in
+point of fact. He has found an excellent
+opening in California, and means to stay
+there. He says&mdash;I'll read you his letter, or
+the part of it that relates to the children.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>
+Hum&mdash;'grateful to you'&mdash;ha! yes, here it
+is. 'Of course I must make some arrangement
+about the children. One of the boys
+can come to me, but I cannot take care of
+both, so Basil will have to go to boarding-school,
+and Susan D., too. If you would be
+so good as to look up a good school or two, I
+should be ever so much obliged. Basil can
+take care of himself, you'll only have to consign
+and ship him; perhaps you can get some
+one to go with the little girl, and see to her
+things and all that. It's a shame to call upon
+you,'&mdash;h'm! so forth! Well, Meg, what do
+you say?"</p>
+
+<p>But Margaret said nothing. She was sitting
+with her hands fallen on her lap, gazing
+at her uncle with a face of such piteous consternation
+that he had much ado to keep his
+countenance.</p>
+
+<p>"Take them away!" she faltered, presently.
+"Take away&mdash;my children? Oh, Uncle
+John!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort looked away, and smoked
+awhile in silence, giving the girl time to collect
+herself. Margaret struggled with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>
+tears that wanted to rush to her eyes. She
+forced herself to take up the letters that lay
+in her lap and fold them methodically. When
+he saw that her hands trembled less, Mr.
+Montfort said, quietly, "The children have
+been a great deal of care to you, Margaret;
+but you have grown fond of them, I know,
+and so have I. I think a good deal of your
+judgment, my dear, young as you are. What
+would you like best to have done about the
+little people? Take time; take time! Anthony
+practically leaves the whole matter in
+my hands. In fact, I think he is puzzled,
+and feels perhaps that he has not done as well
+as he might for them always. Take time, my
+child."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't need any time, Uncle John!"
+cried Margaret, trying to speak steadily. "I&mdash;I
+didn't realise, I suppose&mdash;it has all come
+about so gradually&mdash;I didn't realise all that
+they were to me. To lose Basil and Susan
+D.,&mdash;I don't see how I can let them go,
+uncle; I don't indeed. You won't think me
+ungrateful, will you, dear? I was, oh, so
+happy, before they came; but now&mdash;they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>
+are so dear, so dear! and&mdash;and Susan D. is
+used to me, and to have her go to a stranger
+who might not understand the poor little
+shut-up nature&mdash;oh, how can I bear it? how
+can I bear it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my dear," said Mr. Montfort, comfortably.
+"How if you did not have to bear
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>Then, as Margaret raised her startled eyes
+to his, he went on, in the kind, steady tone
+that always brought quiet and peace with
+it.</p>
+
+<p>"How if we made the present arrangement&mdash;part
+of it, at least&mdash;permanent?
+Let Merton go to his father; I should not care
+to have the bringing up of Merton. But there
+is an excellent school near here, on the island,
+to which Basil could go, staying the week
+and coming home here for Sunday; and if
+little Susan would not be too much care for
+you,&mdash;she's a dear little girl, once you get
+through the prickles,&mdash;why, May Margaret,
+it seems to me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But Mr. Montfort got no further; for
+here was Margaret sobbing on his breast as if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span>
+she were Rita herself, and calling him the
+best and dearest and kindest, and telling him
+that she was so happy, so happy; and that
+was why she was crying, only she could not
+stop; and so on and so on, till Uncle John
+really thought he should have to send for
+Frances. At his suggesting this, however,
+Margaret laughed through her tears, and
+presently struggled into something like composure.</p>
+
+<p>"And, after all," said Mr. Montfort, "how
+do you know the children will want to stay
+with you, you conceited young woman?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Uncle John! I will teach Susan D.
+all I know, and a great deal more, I hope, for
+I shall be learning all the time now, if I have
+another coming after me. And we will keep
+house together, and it will be like the little
+sister, like little Penelope, Uncle John. And
+then to have Basil coming home every week,
+all full of school, and fun, and noise,&mdash;why,
+how perfectly delightful it will be!
+And I will not let them overrun you, dear
+uncle; they have been good lately, haven't
+they?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"They have been extremely good, my dear.
+All the same, I think you would do well to
+interview them on the subject, before you
+prepare all your chickens for the market.
+See, there are your two coming up the walk
+this moment. You might go&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But Margaret was already gone. Mr.
+Montfort watched her light figure flying
+down the walk, and thought she had grown
+almost back into a child again, since the
+children came. "And yet all a woman," he
+said; "all a sweet, wholesome, gentle woman.
+See her now with her arms around the child;
+the little creature clings to her as if she were
+the mother it never knew. Ah! she is telling
+them. No need to smother her, children.
+I never really meant to separate you; no,
+indeed. I only wanted you to find out for
+yourselves, as I have found out for myself.
+No more solitude at Fernley, please God;
+from now on, young faces and hearts, and
+sunshine, and a home; the future instead of
+the past."</p>
+
+<p>The good man laid down his cigar, quietly
+and carefully, as he did everything, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>
+opened his arms as the three, Margaret and
+her children, came flying towards him; and
+they ran into those kind strong arms and
+nestled there, and looked into his eyes and
+knew that they were at home.</p>
+
+
+<h2>THE END.</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><div class='bbox'>
+<div class='center'><b>THE</b></div>
+
+<h2>"Queen Hildegarde" Series.</h2>
+
+<h3>By Laura E. Richards.</h3>
+
+<div class='center'>&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;<br /><br /></div>
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>HILDEGARDE'S HARVEST.</b></div>
+
+<p>The <i>fifth volume</i> of the Hildegarde Series. Illustrated with
+eight full-page cuts. Square 16mo, cloth, $1.25.</p>
+
+<p>A new volume in the "Hildegarde" series, some of the best
+and most deservedly popular books for girls issued in recent
+years. This new volume is fully equal to its predecessors in
+point of interest, and is sure to renew the popularity of the
+entire series.</p>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>HILDEGARDE'S NEIGHBORS.</b></div>
+
+<p>Fourth volume. Illustrated from original designs. Illustrated
+by L. J. Bridgman. Square 16mo, cloth, $1.25.<br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>HILDEGARDE'S HOME.</b></div>
+
+<p>Third volume. Illustrated with original designs by Merrill.
+Square 16mo, cloth, $1.25.<br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>HILDEGARDE'S HOLIDAY.</b></div>
+
+<p>Second volume. Illustrated with full-page plates by Copeland.
+Square 16mo, cloth, $1.25.<br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>QUEEN HILDEGARDE.</b></div>
+
+<p>First volume. Illustrated from original designs by Garrett
+(292 pp.). Square 16mo, cloth, $1.25.</p>
+
+<p>"We would like to see the sensible, heroine-loving girl in
+her early teens who would not like this book. Not to like it
+would simply argue a screw loose somewhere."&mdash;<i>Boston Post.</i></p>
+
+<div class='center'>&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;<br /><br /></div>
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>THE HILDEGARDE SERIES.</b></div>
+
+<p>as above. 5 vols., square 16mo, put up in a neat box, $6.25.</p>
+
+<p><img src="images/asterism.png" width="20" height="14" alt="Asterism" title="Asterism" />
+Next to Miss Alcott's famous "<span class="smcap">Little Women</span>" series
+they easily rank, and no books that have appeared in recent
+times may be more safely put into the hands of a bright, intelligent
+girl than these five "Queen Hildegarde" books.</p>
+
+<div class='center'>&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;<br /><br />
+
+Estes &amp; Lauriat, Publishers, Boston.</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><div class='bbox'>
+<h2>Other Books by Laura E. Richards.</h2>
+
+<div class='center'>&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;<br /><br /></div>
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>LOVE AND ROCKS.</b></div>
+
+<p>Tall 16mo, handsome cover design, etching frontispiece, $1.00.</p>
+
+<p>A charming story of one of the pleasant islands on the rugged
+Maine coast, told in the author's most graceful manner.<br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE.</b></div>
+
+<p>Quarto, cloth, gilt top. Illustrated, $1.25.</p>
+
+<p>A series of papers which has already delighted the many
+readers of St. Nicholas, now revised and published in book
+form, with many additions. The title most happily introduces
+the reader to the charming home life of Dr. Howe and Mrs.
+Julia Ward Howe during the childhood of the author, and one
+is young again in reading the delightful sketches of happy child
+life in this most interesting family.<br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>GLIMPSES OF THE FRENCH COURT.</b></div>
+
+<p>Sketches from French History. Handsomely illustrated
+with a series of portraits in etching and photogravure.
+Square 12mo, cloth, neat cover design, gilt top, $1.50.<br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<div class='hang1'><b>SAME.</b></div>
+
+<p><i>Handsomely bound in celluloid, boxed</i>, $2.00.</p>
+
+<p>The History of France, during the eighteenth century, is a
+treasure-house of romantic interest, from which the author has
+drawn a series of papers which will appeal to all who care for
+the picturesque in history. With true literary touch, she gives
+us the story of some of the salient figures of this remarkable
+period.</p>
+<div class='center'>&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;<br /><br />
+
+Estes &amp; Lauriat, Publishers, Boston.</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Margaret Montfort, by Laura E. Richards
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARGARET MONTFORT ***
+
+***** This file should be named 24828-h.htm or 24828-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/8/2/24828/
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/24828-h/images/asterism.png b/24828-h/images/asterism.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4cfd1ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-h/images/asterism.png
diff --git a/24828-h/images/cover01.jpg b/24828-h/images/cover01.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f74b042
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-h/images/cover01.jpg
diff --git a/24828-h/images/emblem.png b/24828-h/images/emblem.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..586b4a9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-h/images/emblem.png
diff --git a/24828-h/images/gs01.png b/24828-h/images/gs01.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4de4a5a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-h/images/gs01.png
diff --git a/24828-h/images/gs02.png b/24828-h/images/gs02.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1cf9650
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-h/images/gs02.png
diff --git a/24828-h/images/gs03.png b/24828-h/images/gs03.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2ed56ae
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-h/images/gs03.png
diff --git a/24828-h/images/gs04.png b/24828-h/images/gs04.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bc79c81
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-h/images/gs04.png
diff --git a/24828-h/images/gs05.png b/24828-h/images/gs05.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..67c559b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-h/images/gs05.png
diff --git a/24828-h/images/gs06.png b/24828-h/images/gs06.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..295778c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-h/images/gs06.png
diff --git a/24828-h/images/gs07.png b/24828-h/images/gs07.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..180ef76
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-h/images/gs07.png
diff --git a/24828-h/images/gs08.png b/24828-h/images/gs08.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d72c886
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-h/images/gs08.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/c0001.jpg b/24828-page-images/c0001.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d2a4144
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/c0001.jpg
diff --git a/24828-page-images/f0001.png b/24828-page-images/f0001.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..20196be
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/f0001.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/f0002.png b/24828-page-images/f0002.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..714e028
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/f0002.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/f0003-image.png b/24828-page-images/f0003-image.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..92c1e84
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/f0003-image.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/f0003.png b/24828-page-images/f0003.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a202a71
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/f0003.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/f0004-image.png b/24828-page-images/f0004-image.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b82bb29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/f0004-image.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/f0004.png b/24828-page-images/f0004.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..26e896b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/f0004.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/f0005.png b/24828-page-images/f0005.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ca0aedc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/f0005.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/f0006.png b/24828-page-images/f0006.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0f8f86e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/f0006.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/f0007.png b/24828-page-images/f0007.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dd35a97
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/f0007.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0011.png b/24828-page-images/p0011.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2d9fa36
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0011.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0012.png b/24828-page-images/p0012.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ba9783c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0012.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0013.png b/24828-page-images/p0013.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ea28017
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0013.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0014.png b/24828-page-images/p0014.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bc0ff97
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0014.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0015.png b/24828-page-images/p0015.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8ea0045
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0015.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0016.png b/24828-page-images/p0016.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fdc65fb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0016.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0017.png b/24828-page-images/p0017.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2acdcb1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0017.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0018.png b/24828-page-images/p0018.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..59d9e24
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0018.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0019.png b/24828-page-images/p0019.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9835df3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0019.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0020.png b/24828-page-images/p0020.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..efd01ed
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0020.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0021.png b/24828-page-images/p0021.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..773984e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0021.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0022.png b/24828-page-images/p0022.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..72d7a60
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0022.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0023.png b/24828-page-images/p0023.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..279a5d5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0023.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0024.png b/24828-page-images/p0024.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..41655de
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0024.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0025.png b/24828-page-images/p0025.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9ce788d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0025.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0026.png b/24828-page-images/p0026.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..aab74c3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0026.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0027.png b/24828-page-images/p0027.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5bdb08b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0027.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0028.png b/24828-page-images/p0028.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3e8552f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0028.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0029.png b/24828-page-images/p0029.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f38987a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0029.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0030.png b/24828-page-images/p0030.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..397079e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0030.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0031.png b/24828-page-images/p0031.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..539f623
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0031.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0032.png b/24828-page-images/p0032.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..41595f9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0032.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0033.png b/24828-page-images/p0033.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9074f1f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0033.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0034.png b/24828-page-images/p0034.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..db0b3f2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0034.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0035.png b/24828-page-images/p0035.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..afbf6f1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0035.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0036.png b/24828-page-images/p0036.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d807b6c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0036.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0037.png b/24828-page-images/p0037.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f340fd6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0037.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0038.png b/24828-page-images/p0038.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..34e5c26
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0038.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0039.png b/24828-page-images/p0039.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5e81f0c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0039.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0040.png b/24828-page-images/p0040.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..56f7e5f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0040.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0041.png b/24828-page-images/p0041.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7064650
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0041.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0042.png b/24828-page-images/p0042.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2a3739b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0042.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0043.png b/24828-page-images/p0043.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b0fbea2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0043.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0044.png b/24828-page-images/p0044.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0dfe254
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0044.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0045.png b/24828-page-images/p0045.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0e77f9b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0045.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0046.png b/24828-page-images/p0046.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..236be69
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0046.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0047.png b/24828-page-images/p0047.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bed2ecb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0047.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0048.png b/24828-page-images/p0048.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f8afc12
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0048.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0049.png b/24828-page-images/p0049.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..127f197
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0049.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0050.png b/24828-page-images/p0050.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..13e7b74
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0050.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0051.png b/24828-page-images/p0051.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..38d9bb2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0051.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0052.png b/24828-page-images/p0052.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8c91d8a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0052.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0053.png b/24828-page-images/p0053.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..49c1281
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0053.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0054.png b/24828-page-images/p0054.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..13feb05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0054.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0055.png b/24828-page-images/p0055.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4ebdc9f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0055.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0056.png b/24828-page-images/p0056.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9cc2cd5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0056.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0057.png b/24828-page-images/p0057.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..33e70f0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0057.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0058.png b/24828-page-images/p0058.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c1a186c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0058.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0059.png b/24828-page-images/p0059.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..018656b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0059.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0060.png b/24828-page-images/p0060.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f2c30f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0060.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0061.png b/24828-page-images/p0061.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..11d35ea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0061.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0062-insert.png b/24828-page-images/p0062-insert.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..202769a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0062-insert.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0062.png b/24828-page-images/p0062.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b0339ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0062.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0063.png b/24828-page-images/p0063.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2247cc0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0063.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0064.png b/24828-page-images/p0064.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8cf6839
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0064.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0065.png b/24828-page-images/p0065.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..08b1d0c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0065.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0066.png b/24828-page-images/p0066.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2b1fdfd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0066.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0067.png b/24828-page-images/p0067.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..819c33b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0067.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0068.png b/24828-page-images/p0068.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..aa177ef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0068.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0069.png b/24828-page-images/p0069.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..984e12e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0069.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0070.png b/24828-page-images/p0070.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..966d9f0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0070.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0071.png b/24828-page-images/p0071.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..939e876
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0071.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0072.png b/24828-page-images/p0072.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cec64a8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0072.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0073.png b/24828-page-images/p0073.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7cc14f1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0073.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0074.png b/24828-page-images/p0074.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9bb35a2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0074.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0075.png b/24828-page-images/p0075.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e3b4209
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0075.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0076.png b/24828-page-images/p0076.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6c720ee
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0076.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0077.png b/24828-page-images/p0077.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cdab12e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0077.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0078.png b/24828-page-images/p0078.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b1d1a53
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0078.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0079.png b/24828-page-images/p0079.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b8e98de
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0079.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0080.png b/24828-page-images/p0080.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3c7b1f3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0080.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0081.png b/24828-page-images/p0081.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2c38484
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0081.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0082.png b/24828-page-images/p0082.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e8de1ef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0082.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0083.png b/24828-page-images/p0083.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d5e1f30
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0083.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0084-insert.png b/24828-page-images/p0084-insert.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7cc54c1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0084-insert.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0084.png b/24828-page-images/p0084.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..385d885
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0084.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0085.png b/24828-page-images/p0085.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a3837f6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0085.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0086.png b/24828-page-images/p0086.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e0d1e92
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0086.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0087.png b/24828-page-images/p0087.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e814758
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0087.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0088.png b/24828-page-images/p0088.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f1e1212
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0088.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0089.png b/24828-page-images/p0089.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d76b293
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0089.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0090.png b/24828-page-images/p0090.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7dbc48e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0090.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0091.png b/24828-page-images/p0091.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b8c8f47
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0091.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0092.png b/24828-page-images/p0092.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2f19aa4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0092.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0093.png b/24828-page-images/p0093.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..005b400
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0093.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0094.png b/24828-page-images/p0094.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1d33b9d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0094.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0095.png b/24828-page-images/p0095.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..724da9c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0095.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0096.png b/24828-page-images/p0096.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1373fd8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0096.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0097.png b/24828-page-images/p0097.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..88918f1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0097.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0098.png b/24828-page-images/p0098.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..de74a63
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0098.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0099.png b/24828-page-images/p0099.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..64bc739
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0099.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0100.png b/24828-page-images/p0100.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..14623c3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0100.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0101.png b/24828-page-images/p0101.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..43ed290
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0101.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0102.png b/24828-page-images/p0102.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c79a425
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0102.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0103.png b/24828-page-images/p0103.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4e1d6b3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0103.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0104.png b/24828-page-images/p0104.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..075b195
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0104.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0105.png b/24828-page-images/p0105.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3751c98
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0105.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0106.png b/24828-page-images/p0106.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8426998
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0106.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0107.png b/24828-page-images/p0107.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3d97f26
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0107.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0108.png b/24828-page-images/p0108.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ba5345f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0108.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0109.png b/24828-page-images/p0109.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8c44657
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0109.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0110.png b/24828-page-images/p0110.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d38e7c2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0110.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0111.png b/24828-page-images/p0111.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b5900e5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0111.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0112.png b/24828-page-images/p0112.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..28702e6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0112.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0113.png b/24828-page-images/p0113.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..57f1320
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0113.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0114.png b/24828-page-images/p0114.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d1525ee
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0114.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0115.png b/24828-page-images/p0115.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bf7ece1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0115.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0116.png b/24828-page-images/p0116.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ddd497e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0116.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0117.png b/24828-page-images/p0117.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eb86468
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0117.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0118.png b/24828-page-images/p0118.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bfd2e22
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0118.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0119.png b/24828-page-images/p0119.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e85e3fb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0119.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0120-insert.png b/24828-page-images/p0120-insert.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dbadfea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0120-insert.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0120.png b/24828-page-images/p0120.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b52172e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0120.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0121.png b/24828-page-images/p0121.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a6f02c7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0121.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0122.png b/24828-page-images/p0122.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..64e1d76
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0122.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0123.png b/24828-page-images/p0123.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ab3fe85
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0123.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0124.png b/24828-page-images/p0124.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7b7ec5f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0124.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0125.png b/24828-page-images/p0125.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..822cc16
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0125.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0126.png b/24828-page-images/p0126.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0a94c0c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0126.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0127.png b/24828-page-images/p0127.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c055a0d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0127.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0128.png b/24828-page-images/p0128.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2892093
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0128.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0129.png b/24828-page-images/p0129.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..539f485
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0129.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0130.png b/24828-page-images/p0130.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..07f1068
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0130.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0131.png b/24828-page-images/p0131.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5820b0f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0131.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0132.png b/24828-page-images/p0132.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cc0597c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0132.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0133.png b/24828-page-images/p0133.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1828d3b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0133.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0134.png b/24828-page-images/p0134.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..259a869
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0134.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0135.png b/24828-page-images/p0135.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6d75d9a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0135.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0136.png b/24828-page-images/p0136.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1222a76
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0136.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0137.png b/24828-page-images/p0137.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..270fbd8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0137.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0138.png b/24828-page-images/p0138.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d5d25c7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0138.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0139.png b/24828-page-images/p0139.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4bbd4c6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0139.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0140.png b/24828-page-images/p0140.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bc202dc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0140.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0141.png b/24828-page-images/p0141.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..312fc58
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0141.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0142.png b/24828-page-images/p0142.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c15c477
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0142.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0143.png b/24828-page-images/p0143.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7b8d43d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0143.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0144.png b/24828-page-images/p0144.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9117ebf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0144.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0145.png b/24828-page-images/p0145.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4f2c67d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0145.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0146.png b/24828-page-images/p0146.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bb4d1b0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0146.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0147.png b/24828-page-images/p0147.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..12cef43
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0147.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0148.png b/24828-page-images/p0148.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3faf058
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0148.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0149.png b/24828-page-images/p0149.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d13c749
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0149.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0150.png b/24828-page-images/p0150.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..318ca11
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0150.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0151.png b/24828-page-images/p0151.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d06a342
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0151.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0152-insert.png b/24828-page-images/p0152-insert.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c0d56e0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0152-insert.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0152.png b/24828-page-images/p0152.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0fd2b13
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0152.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0153.png b/24828-page-images/p0153.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..89a447c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0153.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0154.png b/24828-page-images/p0154.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ab68d44
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0154.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0155.png b/24828-page-images/p0155.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..554eb2a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0155.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0156.png b/24828-page-images/p0156.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b13d3fe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0156.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0157.png b/24828-page-images/p0157.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9c4e45f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0157.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0158.png b/24828-page-images/p0158.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d2ab9b5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0158.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0159.png b/24828-page-images/p0159.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..19f8a15
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0159.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0160.png b/24828-page-images/p0160.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2d21d28
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0160.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0161.png b/24828-page-images/p0161.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8fc9c38
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0161.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0162.png b/24828-page-images/p0162.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..924af9b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0162.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0163.png b/24828-page-images/p0163.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f104375
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0163.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0164.png b/24828-page-images/p0164.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8bc8141
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0164.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0165.png b/24828-page-images/p0165.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3009dfc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0165.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0166.png b/24828-page-images/p0166.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..495c3fd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0166.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0167.png b/24828-page-images/p0167.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..65dbabe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0167.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0168.png b/24828-page-images/p0168.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f243eaa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0168.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0169.png b/24828-page-images/p0169.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4937096
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0169.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0170.png b/24828-page-images/p0170.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c4cf02e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0170.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0171.png b/24828-page-images/p0171.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0622b1f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0171.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0172.png b/24828-page-images/p0172.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5148376
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0172.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0173.png b/24828-page-images/p0173.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3c68520
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0173.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0174-insert.png b/24828-page-images/p0174-insert.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b8a3daf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0174-insert.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0174.png b/24828-page-images/p0174.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9b1225e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0174.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0175.png b/24828-page-images/p0175.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a0def02
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0175.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0176.png b/24828-page-images/p0176.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e7fe1ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0176.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0177.png b/24828-page-images/p0177.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..69aeeb5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0177.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0178.png b/24828-page-images/p0178.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a2ff875
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0178.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0179.png b/24828-page-images/p0179.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..68af72e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0179.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0180.png b/24828-page-images/p0180.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9fc1b3b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0180.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0181.png b/24828-page-images/p0181.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..83dcddc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0181.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0182.png b/24828-page-images/p0182.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f1e394a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0182.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0183.png b/24828-page-images/p0183.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2d7a704
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0183.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0184.png b/24828-page-images/p0184.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fe80a6a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0184.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0185.png b/24828-page-images/p0185.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f80cf45
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0185.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0186.png b/24828-page-images/p0186.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a53ed4c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0186.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0187.png b/24828-page-images/p0187.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..72633b1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0187.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0188.png b/24828-page-images/p0188.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bf23aca
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0188.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0189.png b/24828-page-images/p0189.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fddbf07
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0189.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0190.png b/24828-page-images/p0190.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ec982c5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0190.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0191.png b/24828-page-images/p0191.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..04726e3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0191.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0192.png b/24828-page-images/p0192.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fc4255f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0192.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0193.png b/24828-page-images/p0193.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3cf42e1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0193.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0194.png b/24828-page-images/p0194.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e024323
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0194.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0195.png b/24828-page-images/p0195.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4987796
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0195.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0196.png b/24828-page-images/p0196.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0fcb94a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0196.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0197.png b/24828-page-images/p0197.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..21206c5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0197.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0198.png b/24828-page-images/p0198.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a86752a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0198.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0199.png b/24828-page-images/p0199.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dfe16ef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0199.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0200.png b/24828-page-images/p0200.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cc1c86d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0200.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0201.png b/24828-page-images/p0201.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6a5e1f5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0201.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0202.png b/24828-page-images/p0202.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4e70bff
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0202.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0203.png b/24828-page-images/p0203.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cf84ac9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0203.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0204.png b/24828-page-images/p0204.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eca4bad
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0204.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0205.png b/24828-page-images/p0205.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b2bd14f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0205.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0206.png b/24828-page-images/p0206.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..631fb19
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0206.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0207.png b/24828-page-images/p0207.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..783411a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0207.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0208.png b/24828-page-images/p0208.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..967b5b4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0208.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0209.png b/24828-page-images/p0209.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..83af15c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0209.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0210.png b/24828-page-images/p0210.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9509a70
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0210.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0211.png b/24828-page-images/p0211.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0444b24
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0211.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0212.png b/24828-page-images/p0212.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6f4dbb0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0212.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0213.png b/24828-page-images/p0213.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6879327
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0213.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0214.png b/24828-page-images/p0214.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b1e81d6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0214.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0215.png b/24828-page-images/p0215.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8930d43
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0215.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0216.png b/24828-page-images/p0216.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a852523
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0216.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0217.png b/24828-page-images/p0217.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b4fd30e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0217.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0218.png b/24828-page-images/p0218.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..947935c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0218.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0219.png b/24828-page-images/p0219.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b681196
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0219.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0220.png b/24828-page-images/p0220.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e60b0b4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0220.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0221.png b/24828-page-images/p0221.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..faae962
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0221.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0222.png b/24828-page-images/p0222.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..32dc80a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0222.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0223.png b/24828-page-images/p0223.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..08056de
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0223.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0224.png b/24828-page-images/p0224.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2c5a5fb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0224.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0225.png b/24828-page-images/p0225.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..04c0d95
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0225.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0226.png b/24828-page-images/p0226.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c6af1d7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0226.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0227.png b/24828-page-images/p0227.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ae0e57e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0227.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0228.png b/24828-page-images/p0228.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..580c593
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0228.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0229.png b/24828-page-images/p0229.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0008cd9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0229.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0230.png b/24828-page-images/p0230.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..39f2bdf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0230.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0231.png b/24828-page-images/p0231.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4e2cfdf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0231.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0232.png b/24828-page-images/p0232.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d377ddf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0232.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0233.png b/24828-page-images/p0233.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..16a8ddc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0233.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0234.png b/24828-page-images/p0234.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4bfef4f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0234.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0235.png b/24828-page-images/p0235.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fde5ba2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0235.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0236.png b/24828-page-images/p0236.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..be557fc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0236.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0237.png b/24828-page-images/p0237.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e6745fe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0237.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0238.png b/24828-page-images/p0238.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..197c1d2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0238.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0239.png b/24828-page-images/p0239.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4ff1e58
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0239.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0240.png b/24828-page-images/p0240.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..30c1518
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0240.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0241.png b/24828-page-images/p0241.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4d9a0d8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0241.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0242.png b/24828-page-images/p0242.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8c49ec6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0242.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0243.png b/24828-page-images/p0243.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..477c424
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0243.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0244.png b/24828-page-images/p0244.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..38bde95
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0244.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0245.png b/24828-page-images/p0245.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b8a0ea6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0245.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0246-insert.png b/24828-page-images/p0246-insert.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2c148d2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0246-insert.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0246.png b/24828-page-images/p0246.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1480a63
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0246.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0247.png b/24828-page-images/p0247.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7d6412e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0247.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0248.png b/24828-page-images/p0248.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2348c69
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0248.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0249.png b/24828-page-images/p0249.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c004cfe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0249.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0250.png b/24828-page-images/p0250.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ad47f76
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0250.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0251.png b/24828-page-images/p0251.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..677b87f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0251.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0252.png b/24828-page-images/p0252.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..349dee9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0252.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0253.png b/24828-page-images/p0253.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a88679b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0253.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0254.png b/24828-page-images/p0254.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0131ad3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0254.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0255.png b/24828-page-images/p0255.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a7f281b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0255.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0256.png b/24828-page-images/p0256.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a4c2c49
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0256.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0257.png b/24828-page-images/p0257.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bc2ab62
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0257.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0258.png b/24828-page-images/p0258.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4aeb645
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0258.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0259.png b/24828-page-images/p0259.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..703e27b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0259.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0260.png b/24828-page-images/p0260.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..00183ee
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0260.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0261.png b/24828-page-images/p0261.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3162324
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0261.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0262.png b/24828-page-images/p0262.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..956d17e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0262.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0263.png b/24828-page-images/p0263.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d3f293c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0263.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0264.png b/24828-page-images/p0264.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..32ebae6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0264.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0265.png b/24828-page-images/p0265.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6e3f183
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0265.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0266.png b/24828-page-images/p0266.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2020b8a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0266.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0267.png b/24828-page-images/p0267.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fd15cdf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0267.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0268-insert.png b/24828-page-images/p0268-insert.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..20c8f95
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0268-insert.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0268.png b/24828-page-images/p0268.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8388e11
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0268.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0269.png b/24828-page-images/p0269.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9edb66b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0269.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0270.png b/24828-page-images/p0270.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7284fee
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0270.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0271.png b/24828-page-images/p0271.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..da9f202
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0271.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0272.png b/24828-page-images/p0272.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fa6528b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0272.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0273.png b/24828-page-images/p0273.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..709ae53
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0273.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0274.png b/24828-page-images/p0274.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e535154
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0274.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0275.png b/24828-page-images/p0275.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f92a669
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0275.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0276.png b/24828-page-images/p0276.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f6f9dd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0276.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0277.png b/24828-page-images/p0277.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d746f47
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0277.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0278.png b/24828-page-images/p0278.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f09913a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0278.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0279.png b/24828-page-images/p0279.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..66145cb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0279.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0280.png b/24828-page-images/p0280.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..08ce75f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0280.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0281.png b/24828-page-images/p0281.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..969cbc8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0281.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/p0282.png b/24828-page-images/p0282.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4687a0a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/p0282.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/q0001.png b/24828-page-images/q0001.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c0cffa2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/q0001.png
diff --git a/24828-page-images/q0002.png b/24828-page-images/q0002.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3d2023e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828-page-images/q0002.png
diff --git a/24828.txt b/24828.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b119eb8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,6044 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Margaret Montfort, by Laura E. Richards
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Margaret Montfort
+
+Author: Laura E. Richards
+
+Illustrator: Etheldred B. Barry
+
+Release Date: March 14, 2008 [EBook #24828]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARGARET MONTFORT ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+MARGARET MONTFORT
+
+
+
+
+_Books by Laura E. Richards._
+
+
+"Mrs. Richards has made for herself a little niche apart in the literary
+world, from her delicate treatment of New England village
+life."--_Boston Post._
+
+
+THE CAPTAIN JANUARY SERIES.
+
+=CAPTAIN JANUARY.= 16mo, cloth, 50 cents.
+
+A charming idyl of New England coast life, whose success has been very
+remarkable. One reads it, is thoroughly charmed by it, tells others, and
+so its fame has been heralded by its readers, until to-day it is selling
+by the thousands, constantly enlarging the circle of its delighted
+admirers.
+
+=SAME.= _Illustrated Holiday Edition._ With thirty half-tone pictures
+from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25.
+
+
+=MELODY.= The Story of a Child. 16mo, 50 cents.
+
+"Had there never been a 'Captain January,' 'Melody' would easily take
+first place."--_Boston Times._
+
+"The quaintly pretty, touching, old-fashioned story is told with perfect
+grace; the few persons who belong to it are touched on with distinctness
+and with sympathy."--_Milwaukee Sentinel._
+
+=SAME.= _Illustrated Holiday Edition._ With thirty half-tone pictures
+from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25.
+
+
+=MARIE.= 16mo, 50 cents.
+
+"Seldom has Mrs. Richards drawn a more irresistible picture, or framed
+one with more artistic literary adjustment."--_Boston Herald._
+
+"A perfect literary gem."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+
+=NARCISSA=, and a companion story, =IN VERONA=. 16mo, cloth, 50 cents.
+
+"Each is a simple, touching, sweet little story of rustic New England
+life, full of vivid pictures of interesting character, and refreshing
+for its unaffected genuineness and human feeling."--_Congregationalist._
+
+"They are the most charming stories ever written of American country
+life."--_New York World._
+
+
+=JIM OF HELLAS; or, IN DURANCE VILE=, and a companion story, =BETHESDA
+POOL=. 16mo, 50 cents.
+
+
+=SOME SAY=, and a companion story, =NEIGHBOURS IN CYRUS=. 16mo, 50
+cents.
+
+
+=ROSIN THE BEAU.= 16mo, 50 cents. A sequel to "Melody."
+
+
+=ISLA HERON.= A charming prose idyl of quaint New England life. Small
+quarto, cloth, 75 cents.
+
+
+=NAUTILUS.= A very interesting story, with illustrations; uniquely
+bound, small quarto, cloth, 75 cents.
+
+
+=FIVE MINUTE STORIES.= A charming collection of short stories and clever
+poems for children. Small quarto, cloth, $1.25.
+
+
+=THREE MARGARETS.= One of the most clever stories for girls that the
+author has written. 16mo, cloth, $1.25.
+
+
+=MARGARET MONTFORT.= A new volume in the series of which "Three
+Margarets" was so successful as the initial volume. 16mo, cloth,
+handsome cover design, $1.25.
+
+
+=LOVE AND ROCKS.= A charming story of one of the pleasant islands that
+dot the rugged Maine coast, told in the author's most graceful manner.
+With etching frontispiece by Mercier. Tall 16mo, unique cover design on
+linen, gilt top, $1.00.
+
+
+_Dana Estes & Company, Publishers, Boston._
+
+[Illustration: MARGARET MONTFORT.]
+
+
+
+
+
+MARGARET MONTFORT
+
+BY
+
+LAURA E. RICHARDS
+
+        AUTHOR Of "CAPTAIN JANUARY," "MELODY,"
+        "QUEEN HILDEGARDE," ETC.
+
+Illustrated by
+
+ETHELDRED B. BARRY
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  BOSTON
+  DANA ESTES & COMPANY
+  PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+        _Copyright, 1898_
+        BY DANA ESTES & COMPANY
+
+        Colonial Press
+
+        Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
+        Boston, U.S.A.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+        CHAPTER                        PAGE
+
+           I. PRESENT AND ABSENT         11
+
+          II. DOMESTIC                   25
+
+         III. THE UNEXPECTED             44
+
+          IV. THE TRIALS OF MARGARET     61
+
+           V. A NEW TYPE                 77
+
+          VI. A LESSON IN GEOGRAPHY      96
+
+         VII. THE DAUNTLESS THREE       114
+
+        VIII. THE FIRST CONQUEST        129
+
+          IX. A NEWCOMER                145
+
+           X. "I MUST HELP MYSELF"      164
+
+          XI. THE SECOND CONQUEST       179
+
+         XII. THE VOICE OF FERNLEY      195
+
+        XIII. WHO DID IT?               212
+
+         XIV. BLACK SPIRITS AND WHITE   231
+
+          XV. A DEPARTURE               249
+
+         XVI. PEACE                     264
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS.
+
+
+                                                           PAGE
+
+  MARGARET MONTFORT                                   _Frontispiece_
+
+  "AFTERWARDS SHE SALLIED OUT INTO THE GARDEN"              63
+
+  "'DID YOU BRING A BOOK TO READ TO ME, LITTLE GIRL?'"      84
+
+  "THE LITTLE GIRL HAD NEVER STIRRED, BUT STOOD GAZING UP
+     AT THE BIG MAN WHO HELD HER HANDS"                    120
+
+  "MERTON WAS TEASING CHIQUITO"                            153
+
+  "'WON'T YOU COME IN?'"                                   175
+
+  A LIVELY GHOST                                           247
+
+  "THE 'FLAIL OF THE DESERT'"                              268
+
+
+
+
+MARGARET MONTFORT.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+PRESENT AND ABSENT.
+
+
+"It shall be exactly as you please, my dear!" said Mr. Montfort. "I have
+no wish in the matter, save to fulfil yours. I had thought it would be
+pleasanter, perhaps, to have the rooms occupied; but your feeling is
+most natural, and there is no reason why you should not keep your
+present room."
+
+"Thank you, uncle!" said the girl whom he addressed as Margaret, and
+whom some of my readers may have met before. "It is not that I don't
+love the dear rooms, nor that it would not be a joy to be in them, for
+some reasons; but,--I think, just to go and sit there every day, alone
+or with you, and think about her,--it seems as if that would be easier
+just now, dear uncle. You always understand, Uncle John!"
+
+Mr. Montfort nodded, and puffed thoughtfully at his cigar. The two,
+uncle and niece, were sitting on the wide verandah of Fernley House; it
+was a soft, fair June evening, and the fireflies were flitting through
+the trees, and one or two late birds were chirping drowsily. There were
+only the two of them at Fernley now, for one day, some two months ago,
+the beloved Aunt Faith had fallen quietly asleep, and passed in sleep
+away from age and weakness and weariness. Margaret missed her sadly
+indeed; but there was no bitterness in her grieving, and she felt all
+the more need of keeping the house cheerful and bright for her uncle,
+who had lost the faithful and affectionate friend who had been for years
+like a second mother to him. They talked of her a great deal, of the
+beauty and helpfulness of the long life that had brought so much joy to
+others; just now Mr. Montfort had proposed that Margaret should occupy
+the White Rooms, which had been Mrs. Cheriton's special apartments in
+the great rambling house; but he did not urge the matter, and they sat
+in silence for a time, feeling the soft beauty of the evening wrap them
+round like a garment of rest.
+
+"And what have you been doing all day, while I was in town?" asked Mr.
+Montfort presently. "You were not too lonely, May Margaret?"
+
+"Oh, no, not a bit too lonely; just enough to make it very good to have
+one's Uncle John come back. Let me see! After you went, I fed Chiquito,
+and stayed with him quite a while, talking and singing. He is so
+pitiful, poor old fellow! Then I took a walk, and dropped in to see how
+Mrs. Peyton was; she asked me to come in the morning, you know, when I
+could."
+
+"And how was she? Superb as ever?"
+
+"Just, Uncle John! Her dressing-jacket was blue this time, and there was
+a new kind of lace on her pillows."
+
+"Oh! she has lace on her pillows, has she, my dear?"
+
+"Didn't I tell you, uncle? Pillows and sheets are trimmed with real
+lace, most magnificent. To-day it was Valenciennes, really lovely
+Valenciennes, to match her cap and the frills on her jacket. And
+turquoise buttons and cap-pins; oh, she was a vision of beauty, I assure
+you. The pale pink roses on the table by her bed gave just the right
+touch to accentuate--if that is what I mean--all the blue. She is an
+artist in effects. She must have been very beautiful, Uncle John? She is
+beautiful now, of course, only so worn and fragile."
+
+"Yes, she was extremely beautiful, in her way," said Mr. Montfort; "and
+she was always, as you say, an artist in effects. And in a good many
+other things," he murmured, half under his breath. "She was glad to see
+you, no doubt, my child?"
+
+"Oh, yes; she is always most cordial and kind. She made me tell her just
+how you were looking,--she always does that; and what you were doing."
+
+"Emily Peyton is a singular woman," said Mr. Montfort, thoughtfully.
+"She suffers, no doubt, and I am glad if you can be a comfort to her,
+Margaret; but be a little careful, my dear; be a little careful with
+Mrs. Peyton! H'm! ha! yes, my love! and what else did you say you had
+done to amuse yourself?"
+
+"Why, Uncle John, do you think I have to be amusing myself all day? What
+a frivolous creature you must think me! I practised after I came home;
+and then I had lunch, and then I arranged the flowers, and then I made
+some buttonholes, and all the rest of the afternoon I sat under the big
+tulip-tree, reading 'Henry Esmond.' So you see, I have really had the
+most delightful day, Uncle John."
+
+"Especially the last part of it," said her uncle, smiling. "Esmond was
+rather more delightful than the buttonholes, eh, Meg?"
+
+"Well, possibly!" Margaret admitted. "He is rather more delightful than
+almost anything else, isn't he? But not half so good as one's Uncle
+John, when he comes home in the gloaming, with his pockets full of
+bonbons and letters for his unworthy niece."
+
+"Flatterer!" said Mr. Montfort. "Does this come of visiting Mrs. Peyton?
+She used to be an adept in the art. But what do our two other Margarets
+say? Has Peggy set the prairies on fire yet? She will some day, you
+know."
+
+"Do you think the mosquitoes would quite devour us if I brought the
+small lamp out here? I really must read you the letters, and it is too
+lovely to go in. Shall I try?"
+
+Margaret brought the lamp, and, drawing a letter from her pocket, began
+to read:
+
+        "DARLING MARGARET:
+
+        "I was so glad to get your letter. It was
+        splendid, and I'm going to copy out a lot of
+        the things you said, and pin them up by my
+        looking-glass. My hair _will not_ part
+        straight, because I have the most frightful
+        cowlick--
+
+"I don't believe you care for this part, do you, Uncle John? Poor little
+Peggy's difficulties are very funny sometimes."
+
+"Why, I like it all, Meg, if you think Peggy would not mind my hearing
+it. It is all sweet and wholesome, I know; but leave out anything you
+think I should not hear."
+
+"Oh, there isn't anything, really. I'll go on, if you like. Where was I?
+Oh!--
+
+        "The most frightful cowlick. The reason I tried
+        was because you said my forehead was nice. I
+        hope you will not think me very vain, Margaret.
+        And you know, no one is wearing bangs any more,
+        not even curly ones. So I have put it straight
+        back now, and Pa likes it, and says I look like
+        his mother. Margaret, will you try to get me
+        the receipt for barley soup, the way Frances
+        makes it? Mother isn't well, and I thought I
+        would try if I could make some. I think,
+        Margaret, that I am going to find something I
+        can really do! I think it is cooking! What do
+        you think of that? Our cook went away to her
+        brother's wedding last week, and Mother was
+        sick, and so I tried; and Pa (I tried saying
+        Father, but he wouldn't let me!) said the
+        things tasted good, and I had a knack for
+        flavouring. That made me feel so happy,
+        Margaret! Because I had just gone ahead till I
+        thought a thing tasted right. I did not want to
+        be bothering 'round with cook-books, and
+        besides, ours was lost, for Betsy can't read,
+        so there was no use for one. I made an
+        apple-pudding yesterday, and Pa had two helps,
+        and all the boys wanted three, but there wasn't
+        enough, though I made it in the big meat-pie
+        pan. Darling Margaret, do please write again
+        very soon, and tell me about everything at
+        dear, darling Fernley. How is Chiquito, and
+        does Uncle John ever speak of me? I miss him
+        dreadfully, but I miss you most of all, darling
+        Margaret,--I never get over missing you. I have
+        a new dog, a setter, a perfect beauty. I asked
+        Hugh to name him for me, and he named him
+        Hamlet, because he was black and white, and
+        Hugh thought he was going to be melancholy, but
+        he grins and wiggles all over every time you
+        look at him. I am teaching him to jump over a
+        stick and he does it beautifully,--only the
+        other day I stood too near the looking-glass,
+        and he jumped into that, and smashed it, and
+        frightened himself almost to death, poor puppy.
+        Margaret, I read a little history every
+        day,--not very much, but I think of you when I
+        read it, and that makes it better. Pa says I am
+        going to school next year; won't that be fun?
+        Hugh is reading 'John Brent' to me in the
+        evenings. Oh, how perfectly splendid it is! If
+        I had a horse like Fulano, I would live with
+        him all the time, and never leave him for five
+        minutes. I want dreadfully to go out west and
+        find Luggernel Alley. Hugh says perhaps we
+        shall go some day, just him and me. That
+        doesn't look right, Margaret, but I tried
+        writing 'he and I' on a piece of paper, and it
+        didn't look any better, so I guess I'll leave
+        it as it is. Do you think I write better? I am
+        trying to take a lot of pains. I try to think
+        of all the things you tell me, dear Margaret.
+        Mother thinks I am doing better, I know. Mother
+        and I have real good talks together, like we
+        never used to before, and she tells me what she
+        used to do when she was a girl. I guess she had
+        some pretty hard times. I guess I'm a pretty
+        lucky girl, Margaret. Now I must go and get
+        mother's supper. Give lots and lots of love to
+        Uncle John, and some to Elizabeth and Frances,
+        and say--I can't spell it, but the Spanish
+        thing I learned--to poor Chiquito. But most
+        love of all to your own, dear, darling self,
+        Margaret, from
+
+                                            "PEGGY."
+
+Mr. Montfort curled his moustaches in silence for some minutes, when the
+reading was over.
+
+"Dear little girl!" he said at last. "Good little Peggy! So she will
+learn to cook, will she? And she is getting hold of her mother! This is
+as it should be, Margaret, eh?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" cried Margaret. "Oh, Uncle John, this letter makes me feel so
+happy about the child. At first, you know, she missed us all more than
+she should have,--really. And--and I think that, except for Hugh,
+perhaps they did not receive her in quite the way they might have,
+laughing at her a good deal, and sneering when she tried to make little
+improvements. I don't mean Aunt Susan or Uncle James, but the younger
+children, and George, who must be--whom I don't fancy, somehow. And she
+has been so brave, and has tried so hard to be patient and gentle. I
+think our Peggy will make a very fine woman, don't you, uncle?"
+
+"I do, my love. I have a great tenderness for Peggy. When she is at
+school, she must come here for her vacations, or some of them, at
+least."
+
+"And she owes this all to you!" cried Margaret, with shining eyes. "If
+she had never come here, Uncle John, I feel as if she might have grown
+up--well, pretty wild and rough, I am afraid. Oh, she ought to love you,
+and she does."
+
+"Humph!" said Mr. Montfort, dryly. "Yes, my dear, she does, and I am
+very glad of the dear little girl's love. But as for owing it all to me,
+why, Margaret, there may be two opinions about that. Well, and what says
+our Bird of Paradise?"
+
+"Rita? Oh, uncle, I don't know what you will think of this letter."
+
+"Don't read it, my dear, if you think it is meant for you alone. You can
+tell me if she is well and happy."
+
+"That is just it, Uncle John. She wants to go to Europe, and her father
+does not approve of her going just at present, and so--well, you shall
+hear part of it, at any rate.
+
+        "Margaret, my Soul!"
+
+"That sounds natural!" said Mr. Montfort. "That is undoubtedly Rita,
+Margaret; go on! If you were her soul, my dear, my brother Richard would
+have a quieter life. Go on."
+
+        "Hardly a week has passed since last I wrote,
+        yet to-night I fly again in spirit to you,
+        since my burning heart must pour itself out to
+        some other heart that can beat with mine. It is
+        midnight. All day I have suffered, and now I
+        fain would lose myself in sleep. But no! My
+        eyes are propped open, my heart throbs to
+        suffocation, I enrage, I tear myself--how
+        should sleep come to such as I? O Marguerite,
+        there in your cool retreat, with that best of
+        men, my uncle,--yours also,--a Paladin, but one
+        whose blood flows, or rests, quietly, as yours,
+        can you feel for me, for your Rita, who burns,
+        who dissolves in anguish? Listen! I desire to
+        go to Europe. I have never seen it, as you
+        know. Spain, the home of my ancestors, the
+        cradle of the San Reals, is but a name to me.
+        Now I have the opportunity. An escort offers
+        itself, perfection, beyond earthly desire. You
+        recall my friend, my Conchita, who divides my
+        heart with you? She is married, my dear! She is
+        the Senora Bobadilla; her husband is noble,
+        rich, devoted. Young, I do not say; brilliant,
+        I do not pretend! Conchita is brought up in the
+        Spanish way, my child; she weds a Spanish
+        husband, as her parents provide him; it is the
+        custom. Now! Marguerite, they offer to take me
+        with them to Spain, to France, Italy, the
+        world's end. It is the opportunity of a
+        lifetime. I pine, I die for change. When you
+        consider that I have been a year here, without
+        once leaving home,--it is an eternity! I
+        implore my father; I weep--torrents! I clasp
+        his knees. I say, 'Kill me, but let me go!' No!
+        he is adamant. He talks about the disturbed
+        state of the country! Has it been ever
+        undisturbed? I ask you, Marguerite! Briefly, I
+        remain! The Bobadillas sail to-morrow, without
+        me. I feel that this blow has crushed me,
+        Marguerite. I feel my strength, never, as you
+        know, robust, ebbing from me. Be prepared,
+        Marguerite! I feel that in a few weeks I may be
+        gone, indeed, but not to Europe; to another and
+        a kinder world. The San Reals are a short-lived
+        race; they suffer, they die! My father will
+        realise one day that he might better have let
+        his poor Rita have her way for once, when Rita
+        lies shrouded in white, with lilies at her
+        head and feet. Adios, Marguerite! farewell,
+        heart of my heart! I have made my will,--my
+        jewels are divided between you and Peggy. Poor
+        Peggy! she also will mourn me. You will dry her
+        tears, dearest! The lamp burns low--no more!
+        For the last time, beloved Marguerite,
+
+                          "Your unhappy
+                 "MARGARITA MARIA DOLORES DE
+                                   SAN REAL MONTFORT."
+
+"Isn't that really pretty alarming?" said Margaret, looking up.
+"Why--why, Uncle John! you are laughing! Don't laugh, please! Of course
+Rita is extravagant, but I am afraid she must really be very unhappy.
+Stay! Here is a postscript that I did not see before. Oh! Oh, uncle!
+Listen!
+
+        "Alma mia, one word! It is morning, in the
+        world and in my heart. I go, Marguerite! My
+        maid is packing my trunk at this instant. My
+        father relents; he is an angel, the kindest,
+        the most considerate of parents. We sail
+        to-morrow for Gibraltar,--I shall be in Madrid
+        in less than a month. Marguerite, I embrace you
+        tenderly. Rejoice, Beloved, with your happy,
+        your devoted
+
+                                          "RITA."
+
+"Thank you, my dear!" said Mr. Montfort, twirling his moustaches. "Poor
+Richard! Poor old Dick! Do you know, my dear, I think Dick may have had
+some experience of life."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+DOMESTIC.
+
+
+Life was pleasant enough for Margaret Montfort, in those days. The hours
+were still sad which she had been used to spend with Mrs. Cheriton, the
+beloved Aunt Faith; but there was such peace and blessedness in the
+thought of her, that Margaret would not have been without the gentle
+sorrow. She loved to sit in the White Rooms, sometimes with her uncle,
+but more often alone. In the morning, she generally walked for an hour
+in the garden with Mr. Montfort, tending the rose-bushes that were his
+special care and pride, listening to his wise and kindly talk, and
+learning, she always thought, something new each day. It is wonderful
+how much philosophy, poetry, even history, can be brought into the care
+of roses, if the right person has charge of them. At ten o'clock he
+generally went to town, and the rest of the morning was spent in
+practising, sewing, and studying; the hours flew by so fast, Margaret
+often suspected the clock of being something of a dishonest character.
+She was studying German, with the delightful result of reading "Der
+Trompeter von Saekkingen" with her uncle in the evening, when it was not
+too beautiful out-of-doors. Then, in the afternoon, she could with a
+clear conscience take up some beloved romance, and be "just happy," as
+she called it, till Mr. Montfort returned in time for the walk or ride
+which was the crowning pleasure of the day. And so the days went by, in
+a golden peace which seemed too pleasant to last; and yet there seemed
+no reason why it should ever change.
+
+The morning after the reading of the letters, Margaret had been in the
+White Rooms, arranging flowers in the vases, and putting little loving
+touches to books and cushions, as a tidy girl loves to do, whether there
+is need or not. The windows were open, and the orioles were singing in
+the great elm-tree, and the laburnum was a bower of gold. It seemed
+really too perfect a morning to spend in the house; Margaret thought she
+would take her work out into the garden, not this sunny green parlour,
+but the great shady garden outside, where the box swept above her head,
+and the whole air smelt of it, and of moss and ferns and a hundred other
+cool things. She passed out of the rooms, and went along a passage, and
+as she went she heard voices that came through an open door at one side;
+clear, loud voices that she could not have escaped if she would.
+
+"These table-napkins is scandalous!" said Elizabeth. "I do wish Miss
+Margaret would get us some new ones."
+
+"Why don't you ask her?" said Frances, the cook, bringing her flat-iron
+down with a thump. "The table-cloths is most worn out, too, this set.
+Ask her to see to some new ones. She's young, you see, and she don't
+think."
+
+"I've been giving her one with holes in it, right along this two weeks,"
+said Elizabeth, "hoping she'd notice, but she don't seem to. I thought
+it'd be best if she found out herself when things was needed."
+
+"Ah!" said Frances, "she's a sweet young lady, but she'll never make no
+housekeeper. She hasn't so much as looked inside one of my closets since
+Mis' Cheriton went."
+
+"You wouldn't be over and above pleased if she looked much into your
+closets, Frances; I know that!"
+
+"Maybe I wouldn't, and maybe I would; but I'd like to have her know as
+there was no need of her looking. Don't tell me, Elizabeth! So long as
+she could walk on her feet, never a week but Mis' Cheriton would look
+in, and take a peep at every shelf. 'Just for the pleasure of seeing
+perfection, Frances,' she'd say, or something like that, her pretty way.
+But if there had been anything _but_ perfection, I'd have heard from her
+pretty quick."
+
+"I think you're hard to please, I do!" Elizabeth answered. "I think Miss
+Margaret is as sweet a young lady as walks the earth; so thoughtful, and
+afraid of giving trouble, and neat and tidy as a pin. I tell you, Mr.
+Montfort's well off, and so's you and me, Frances. Why, we might have
+had one of them other young ladies, and then where'd we have been?"
+
+"I don't know!" said Frances, significantly. "Not here, that's one sure
+thing."
+
+"Or Mr. Montfort might have married. Fine man as he is, it's a wonder he
+never has."
+
+"H'm! he's no such fool! Not but what there's them would be glad
+enough--"
+
+But here Margaret, with burning cheeks, fled back to the White Rooms. It
+could not be helped; she had to hear what they were saying about
+herself; she must not hear what they said about her uncle.
+
+She sat down on the little stool that had always been her favourite
+seat, and leaned her cheek against the great white chair, that would
+always be empty now.
+
+"I wish you were here, Aunt Faith!" she said, aloud. "I am very young,
+and very ignorant. I wish you were here to tell me what I should do."
+
+At first the women's talk seemed cruel to her. They had been here so
+long, they knew the ways of the house so entirely, she had never dreamed
+of advising them, any more than of advising her uncle himself. Frances
+had been at Fernley twenty years, Elizabeth, twenty-five. What could she
+tell them? How could she possibly know about the things that had been
+their care and pride, year in and year out, since before she was born?
+It seemed very strange, very unkind, that they should expect her to step
+in, with her youth and ignorance, between them and their experience. So
+she thought, and thought, feeling hot, and sore, and angry. She had
+never had any care of housekeeping in her life. Old Katy, her nurse, who
+had taken her from her dying mother's arms, had always done all that;
+Margaret's part was to see that her own and her father's clothes were in
+perfect order, to keep the rooms dusted, and arrange the books when she
+was allowed to touch them, which was not often. As to table-cloths, she
+had never thought of them in her life; Katy saw to all that; and if she
+had attempted to suggest ordering dinner, Katy would have been apt to
+send her to bed, Margaret thought. Poor, dear old Katy! She was dead
+now, and Aunt Faith was dead, and there was no one to stand between
+Margaret and the cares that she knew nothing about. Of course, Uncle
+John must never know anything of it; he expected perfection, and had
+always had it; he did not care how it was brought about. Surely these
+women were unkind and unreasonable! What good could she possibly do by
+interfering? They would not endure it if she really did interfere.
+
+The white linen cover of the chair was smooth and cool; Margaret pressed
+her cheek against it, and a sense of comfort stole over her insensibly.
+She began to turn the matter over, and try to look at the other side of
+it. There always was another side; her father had taught her that when
+she was a little child. Well, after all, had they really said anything
+unkind? Frances's words came back to her, "I'd like to have her know as
+there was no need of her looking."
+
+After all, was not that perfectly natural? Did not every one like to
+have good work seen and recognised? Even Uncle John always called her to
+see when he had made a particularly neat graft, and expected her praise
+and wonderment, and was pleased with it. And why did she show him her
+buttonholes this morning, except that she knew they were good
+buttonholes, and wanted the kindly word that she was sure of getting?
+Was the trouble with her, after all? Had she failed to remember that
+Elizabeth and Frances were human beings, not machines, and that her
+uncle being what he was, she herself was the only person to give them a
+word of deserved praise or counsel?
+
+"My dear," she said to herself, "I don't want to be hasty in my
+judgments, but it rather looks as if you had been a careless, selfish
+goose, doesn't it now?"
+
+She went up to her own room,--the garden seemed too much of an
+indulgence just now,--and sat down quietly with her work. Sewing was
+always soothing to Margaret. She was not fond of it; she would have
+read twelve hours out of the twenty-four, if she had been allowed to
+choose her own way of life, and have walked or ridden four, and slept
+six, and would never have thought of any time being necessary for
+eating, till she felt hungry. But she had been taught to sew well and
+quickly, and she had always made her own underclothes, and felled all
+the seams, and a good many girls will know how much that means. She sat
+sewing and thinking, planning all kinds of reforms and experiments, when
+she heard Elizabeth stirring in the room next hers. It was the linen
+room, and Elizabeth was putting away clean clothes, Margaret knew by the
+clank of the drawer-handles. Now! this was the moment to begin. She laid
+down her work, and went into the linen room.
+
+"May I see you put them away, Elizabeth?" she asked. "I always like to
+see your piles of towels,--they are so even and smooth."
+
+Elizabeth looked up, and her face brightened. "And welcome, Miss
+Margaret!" she said. "I'll be pleased enough. 'Tis dreadful lonesome,
+and Mis' Cheriton gone. Not that she could come up here, I don't mean;
+but I always knew she was there, and she was like a mother to me, and I
+could always go to her. Yes, miss, the towels do look nice, and I love
+to keep 'em so."
+
+"They are beautiful!" said Margaret, with genuine enthusiasm, for the
+shelves and drawers were like those she had read about in "Soll und
+Haben." She had loved them in the book, but never thought of looking at
+them in reality. "Oh, what lovely damask this is, Elizabeth! It shines
+like silver! I never saw such damask as this."
+
+"'Tis something rare, miss, I do be told," Elizabeth replied.
+
+"Mr. Montfort brought them towels back from Germany, three years ago,
+because he thought they would please his aunt, and they did, dear lady.
+Hand spun and wove they are, she said; and there's only one place where
+they make this weave and this pattern. See, Miss Margaret! 'Tis roses,
+coming out of a little loaf of bread like; and there was a story about
+it, some saint, but I don't rightly remember what. There! I have tried
+to remember that story, ever since Mis' Cheriton went, but it seems I
+can't."
+
+"Oh, oh, it must be Saint Elizabeth of Hungary!" cried Margaret, bending
+in delight over the smooth silvery stuff. "Why, how perfectly
+enchanting!"
+
+"Yes, miss, that's it!" cried Elizabeth, beaming with pleasure. "Saint
+Elizabeth it was; and maybe you'll know the story, Miss Margaret. I
+never like to ask Mr. Montfort, of course, but I should love dearly to
+hear it."
+
+Margaret asked nothing better. She told the lovely story as well as she
+knew how, and before she had finished, Elizabeth's eyes as well as her
+own were full of tears. One of Elizabeth's tears even fell on the towel,
+and she cried out in horror, and wiped it away as if it had been a
+poison-spot, and laid the sacred damask back in its place. Margaret felt
+the moment given to her.
+
+"Elizabeth," she said, "I want to ask you something. I want to ask if
+you will help me a little. Will you try?"
+
+Elizabeth, surprised and pleased, vowed she would do all she could for
+Miss Margaret, in any way in her power.
+
+"You can do a great deal!" said Margaret. "I--I am very young,
+Elizabeth, and--and you and Frances have been here a long time, and of
+course you know all about the work of the house, and I know nothing at
+all. And yet--and yet, I ought to be helping, it seems to me, and ought
+to be taking my place, and my share in the work. Do you see what I mean,
+Elizabeth? You and Frances could help me, oh, so much, if you would; and
+perhaps some day I might be able to help you too,--I don't know just
+how, yet, but it might come."
+
+"Oh, miss, we will be so thankful!" cried Elizabeth. "Oh, miss, Frances
+and me, we'd been wishing and longing to have you speak up and take your
+place, if I may say so. We didn't like to put ourselves forward, and
+we've no orders from Mr. Montfort, except to do whatever you said; and
+so, when you'll say anything, Miss Margaret, we feel ever and ever so
+much better, Frances and me. And I'll be pleased to go all over the work
+with you, Miss Margaret, this very day, and show you just how I've
+always done it, and I think Mr. Montfort has been satisfied, and Mis'
+Cheriton was, Lord rest her! and you so young, and with so much else to
+do, as I said time and again to Frances, reading with Mr. Montfort and
+riding with him, and taking such an interest in the roses, as his own
+daughter couldn't make him happier if he had one. And of course it's
+nature that you haven't had no time yet to take much notice, but it
+makes it twice as easy for servants, Miss Margaret, where an interest is
+took; and I'm thankful to you, I'm sure, and so will Frances be, and
+you'll find her closets a pleasure to look at."
+
+Elizabeth stopped to draw breath, and Margaret looked at her in wonder
+and self-reproach. The grave, staid woman was all alight with pleasure
+and the prospect of sympathy. It came over Margaret that, comfortable
+and homelike as their life at Fernley was, it was not perhaps exactly
+thrilling.
+
+"We will be friends, Elizabeth!" she said, simply; and the two shook
+hands, with an earnestness that meant something. "And you are to come
+to me, please, whenever there is anything that needs attention,
+Elizabeth, and I will do my best, and ask your advice about anything I
+don't understand. Don't--don't we--need some new napkins, Elizabeth?"
+
+Elizabeth was eloquent as to their need of napkins. In a couple of
+washes more, there would be nothing but holes left to wipe their hands
+on.
+
+"Then I'll order some this very day," said Margaret. "Or better still,
+I'll go to town with Uncle John to-morrow, and get them myself. And now,
+Elizabeth, I am going down to see Frances, and--and perhaps--do you
+think she would like it if I ordered dinner, Elizabeth?"
+
+"Miss Margaret, she'd be pleased to death!" cried Elizabeth.
+
+Returning from the kitchen an hour later, a sadder and a wiser girl (for
+Frances's perfection seemed unattainable by ordinary mortals, even with
+the aid of Sapolio), Margaret heard the sound of wheels on the gravel
+outside. Glancing through the window of the long passage through which
+she was going, she saw, to her amazement, a carriage standing at the
+door, a carriage that had evidently come some way, for it was covered
+with dust. The driver was taking down a couple of trunks, and beside the
+carriage stood a lady, with her purse in her hand.
+
+"I shall give you two dollars!" the lady was saying, in a thin, sharp
+voice. "I consider that ample for the distance you have come."
+
+"I told the gentleman it would be three dollars, mum!" said the man,
+civilly, touching his hat. "Three dollars is the regular price, with one
+trunk, and these trunks is mortal heavy. The gentleman said as it would
+be all right, mum."
+
+"The gentleman knew nothing whatever about it," said the sharp-voiced
+lady. "I shall give you two dollars, and not a penny more. I have always
+paid two dollars to drive to Fernley, and I have no idea of being
+cheated now, I assure you."
+
+The man was still grumbling, when Elizabeth opened the door. She looked
+grave, but greeted the newcomer with a respectful curtsey.
+
+"Oh, how do you do, Elizabeth!" said the strange lady. "How is Mr.
+Montfort?"
+
+"Mr. Montfort is very well, thank you, mum!" said Elizabeth. "He is in
+town, mum. He'll hardly be back before evening. Would you like to see
+Miss Montfort?"
+
+"Miss Montfort? Oh, the little girl who is staying here. You needn't
+trouble to call her just now, Elizabeth. Send for Willis, will you, and
+have him take my trunks in; I have come to stay. He may put them in the
+White Rooms."
+
+"I--I beg pardon, mum!" faltered Elizabeth. "In the Blue Room, did you
+say? The Blue Room has been new done over, and that is where we have put
+visitors lately."
+
+"Nothing of the sort!" said the lady, sharply. "I said the White Rooms;
+Mrs. Cheriton's rooms."
+
+Margaret stayed to hear no more. A stranger in the White Rooms! Aunt
+Faith's rooms, which she could not bear to occupy herself, though her
+uncle had urged her to do so? And such a stranger as this, with such a
+voice,--and such a nose! Never! never, while there was breath to pant
+with, while there were feet to run with!
+
+Never but once in her life had Margaret Montfort run as she did now;
+that once was when she flew up the secret staircase to save her cousin
+from burning. In a flash she was in her own room--what had been her
+room!--gathering things frantically in her arms, snatching books from
+the table, dresses from the closets. Down the back stairs she ran like a
+whirlwind; down, and up, and down again. Had the girl gone suddenly mad?
+
+Ten minutes later, when Elizabeth, her eyes smarting with angry tears,
+opened the door of the White Parlour,--Willis the choreman behind her,
+grunting and growling, with a trunk on his shoulder,--a young lady was
+sitting in the great white armchair, quietly reading. The young lady's
+cheeks were crimson, her eyes were sparkling, and her breath came in
+short, quick gasps, which showed that what she was reading must be very
+exciting; what made it the more curious was that the book was upside
+down. But she was entirely composed, and evidently surprised at the
+sudden intrusion.
+
+"What is it, Elizabeth?" asked Margaret, quietly.
+
+"I--I--I beg your pardon, Miss Montfort!" said Elizabeth, whose eyes
+were beginning to brighten, too, and her lips to twitch dangerously.
+"I--I didn't know, miss, as you had--moved in yet. Here is Miss
+Sophronia Montfort, miss, as perhaps you would like to see her."
+
+The strange lady was already glaring over Willis's shoulder.
+
+"What is this?" she said. "What does this mean? These rooms are not
+occupied; I was positively told they were not occupied. There must be
+some mistake. Willis--"
+
+"Yes, there is a mistake!" said Margaret, coming forward, and holding
+out her hand with a smile. "Is this Cousin Sophronia? I am Margaret,
+Cousin Sophronia. Uncle John asked me to take these rooms, and I--I feel
+quite at home in them already. Would you like the Pink, or the Blue
+Room? They are both ready, aren't they, Elizabeth?"
+
+"Yes, Miss Montfort," said Elizabeth, "quite ready."
+
+The strange lady's eyes glared wider and wider; her chest heaved; she
+seemed about to break out in a torrent of angry speech; but making a
+visible effort, she controlled herself. "How do you do, my--my dear?"
+she said, taking Margaret's offered hand, and giving it a little pinch
+with the tips of her fingers. "I--a little misunderstanding, no doubt.
+Willis,--the Blue Room,--for the present!" But Willis was suffering from
+a sudden and violent fit of coughing, which shook his whole frame, and
+made it necessary for him to rest his trunk against the wall and lean
+against it, with his head down; so that it was fully five minutes before
+Miss Sophronia Montfort's trunk got up to the Blue Room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE UNEXPECTED.
+
+
+When Mr. Montfort came home that afternoon, Margaret was waiting for
+him, as usual, on the verandah; as usual, for she was determined to keep
+the worry out of her face and out of her voice. But as her uncle came up
+the steps, with his cheery "Well! and how's my lassie?" he was
+confronted by Miss Sophronia Montfort, who, passing Margaret swiftly,
+advanced with both hands held out, and a beaming smile.
+
+"My dearest John! my poor, dear fellow! Confess that I have surprised
+you. Confess it, John!--you did not expect to see me."
+
+"Sophronia!" exclaimed Mr. Montfort. He stood still and contemplated the
+visitor for a moment; then he shook hands with her, rather formally.
+
+"You certainly have surprised me, Sophronia!" he said, kindly enough.
+"What wind has blown you in this direction?"
+
+"The wind of affection, my dear boy!" cried the strange lady. "I have
+been planning it, ever since I heard of Aunt Faith's death. Dearest Aunt
+Faith! What a loss, John! what an irreparable loss! I shall never
+recover from the shock. The moment I heard of it, I said--William would
+tell you, if he were here--I said, 'I must go to John! He will need me
+now,' I said, 'and go I must.' I explained to William that I felt it as
+a solemn duty. He took it beautifully, poor, dear fellow. I don't know
+how they will get on without me, for his wife is sadly heedless, John,
+and the children need a steady hand, they do indeed. But he did not try
+to keep me back; indeed, he urged me to come, which showed such a
+beautiful spirit, didn't it? And so here I am, my dearest boy, come to
+take Aunt Faith's place, and make a home for you, my poor lonely cousin.
+You know I have always loved you as a sister, John, and you must
+consider me a real sister now; sister Sophronia, dear John!"
+
+The lady paused for breath, and gazed tenderly on Mr. Montfort; that
+gentleman returned her gaze with one of steady gravity.
+
+"I shall be glad to have a visit from you, Sophronia," he said. "I have
+no doubt we can make you comfortable for a few weeks; I can hardly
+suppose that William can spare you longer than that. We have no children
+here to need your--your ministrations."
+
+The lady shook her head playfully; she had thin curls of a grayish
+yellow, which almost rattled when she shook her head.
+
+"Always self-denying, John!" she cried. "The same unselfish, good,
+sterling fellow! But I understand, my friend; I know how it really is,
+and I shall do my duty, and stand by you; depend upon that! And this
+dear child, too!" she added, turning to Margaret and taking her hand
+affectionately. "So young, so unexperienced! and to be attempting the
+care of a house like Fernley! How could you think of it, John? But we
+will make that all right. I shall be--we can hardly say a mother, can
+we, my dear? but an elder sister, to you, too. Oh, we shall be very
+happy, I am sure. The drawing-room carpets are looking very shabby,
+John. I am ready to go over the dear old house from top to bottom, and
+make it over new; of course you did not feel like making any changes
+while dear Aunt Faith was with you. Such a mistake, I always say, to
+shake the aged out of their ruts. Yes! so wise of you! and who is in the
+neighbourhood, John?"
+
+"I hardly know," said Mr. Montfort. "You know I live rather a hermit
+life, Sophronia. Mrs. Peyton is here; I believe you are fond of her."
+
+"Sweet Emily Peyton!" exclaimed Miss Sophronia, with enthusiasm. "Is
+that exquisite creature here? That will indeed be a pleasure. Ah, John,
+she should never have been Emily Peyton; you know my opinion on that
+point." She nodded her head several times, with an air of mysterious
+understanding. "And widowed, after all, and once more alone in the
+world. How does she bear her sorrow, John?"
+
+"I have not seen her," said Mr. Montfort, rather shortly. "From what I
+hear, she seems to bear it with considerable fortitude. Perhaps you
+forget that it is fully ten years since Mr. Peyton died, Sophronia. But
+Margaret here can tell you more than I can about Mrs. Peyton; she goes
+to see her now and then. Mrs. Peyton is something of an invalid, and
+likes to have her come."
+
+"Indeed!" cried Miss Sophronia. "I should hardly have fancied--Emily
+Peyton was always so mature in her thought, so critical in her
+observations; but no doubt she is lonely, and glad of any society; and
+sweet Margaret is most sympathetic, I am sure. Sympathy, my dear John!
+how could we live without it, my poor dear fellow?"
+
+"I am going to walk," said Mr. Montfort, abruptly. "Margaret, will you
+come? Sophronia, you will be glad of a chance to rest; you must be tired
+after your long drive."
+
+"This once, yes, dearest John!" said the lady. "This once you must go
+without me. I am tired,--so thoughtful of you to notice it! There is no
+sofa in the Blue Room, but I shall do very well there for a few days.
+Don't have me on your mind in the least, my dear cousin; I shall soon
+be absolutely at home. Enjoy your walk, both of you! After to-day, I
+shall always be with you, I hope. I ordered tea an hour earlier, as I
+dined early, and I knew you would not mind. Good-bye!" and the lady
+nodded, and smiled herself into the house.
+
+Margaret went for her hat in silence, and in silence she and her uncle
+walked along. Mr. Montfort was smoking, not in his usual calm and
+dignified manner, but in short, fierce puffs; smoking fast and
+violently. Margaret did not dare to speak, and they walked a mile or
+more without exchanging a word.
+
+"Margaret," said her uncle, at last.
+
+"Yes, Uncle John."
+
+"Not in the least, my dear!"
+
+"No, Uncle John."
+
+They walked another mile, and presently stopped at the top of a breezy
+hill, to draw breath, and look about them. The sun was going down in a
+cheerful blaze; the whole country smiled, and was glad of its own
+beauty. Mr. Montfort gazed about him, and heaved a long sigh of
+content.
+
+"Pretty! Pretty country!" he said. "Spreading fields, quiet woods, sky
+over all, undisturbed. Yes! You are very silent, my dear. Have I been
+silent, too, or have I been talking?"
+
+"What a curious question!" thought Margaret.
+
+"You--you have not said much, Uncle John," she replied.
+
+"Well, my love, that may be because there isn't much to say. Some
+situations, Margaret, are best met in silence."
+
+Margaret nodded. She knew her uncle's ways pretty well by this time.
+
+"And yet," continued Mr. Montfort, "it may be well to have just a word
+of understanding with you, my dear child. Sophronia Montfort is my own
+cousin, my first cousin."
+
+"Yes, Uncle John," said Margaret, as he seemed to pause for a reply.
+
+"Ri tumpty,--that is to say, there is no gainsaying that fact,--my own
+cousin. And by natural consequence, Margaret, the own cousin of your
+father, and by further consequence, your first cousin once removed. It
+is--a--it is many years since she has been at Fernley; we must try to
+make her comfortable during the time--the short time--she is with us.
+You have put her in the Blue Room; that is comfortable, is it, and
+properly fitted up,--all the modern inconveniences and abominations,
+eh?"
+
+Mr. Montfort's own room had a bare floor, a bed, a table, a chest of
+drawers, and a pitcher and basin and bath that might have been made for
+Cormoran or Blunderbore, whichever was the bigger.
+
+"Everything, I think, uncle," faltered Margaret, turning crimson, and
+beginning to tremble. "Oh! Oh, Uncle John! I have something to tell you.
+I--I don't know how to tell you."
+
+"Don't try, then, my dear," said Uncle John, in his own kind way.
+"Perhaps it isn't necessary."
+
+"Oh, yes, it is necessary. I shall have no peace till I do, uncle,--you
+remember you asked me to take the White Rooms; you surely asked me,
+didn't you?"
+
+"Surely, my child," said Mr. Montfort, wondering much. "But I wished
+you to do as you pleased, you know."
+
+"Yes! Oh, uncle, that was it! When Cousin Sophronia came, she--she told
+Elizabeth to have her trunks carried into the White Rooms."
+
+"So!" said Mr. Montfort.
+
+"Yes, uncle! I was in the passage, and heard her give the order, and
+I--I could not bear it, Uncle John, I could not, indeed. I flew
+up-stairs, and brought down some of my things,--all I could carry in two
+trips,--and, when they came in with the trunk, I--I was sitting there,
+and--and wondering why they came into my room. Uncle John, do you see?
+Was it very, very wicked?"
+
+For all reply, Mr. Montfort went off into a fit of laughter so prolonged
+and violent, that Margaret, who at first tried to join in timidly,
+became alarmed for him. "Ho! ho! ho!" he laughed, throwing his head
+back, and expanding his broad chest. "Ha! ha! ha! so you--ho! ho!--you
+got in first, little miss! Why wasn't I there to see? Oh, why wasn't I
+there? I would give a farm, a good farm, to have seen Sophronia's face.
+Tell me about it again, Margaret. Tell me slowly, so that I may see it
+all. You have a knack of description, I know; show me the scene."
+
+Slowly, half frightened, and wholly relieved, Margaret went through the
+matter from beginning to end, making as light as she could of her own
+triumph, of which she really felt ashamed, pleased as she was to have
+achieved it. When she had finished, her uncle sat down under a tree, and
+laughed again; not so violently, but with a hearty enjoyment that took
+in every detail.
+
+"And Willis had a fit of coughing!" he exclaimed, when Margaret had come
+to the last word. "Poor Willis! Willis must see a doctor at once.
+Consumptive, no doubt; and concealed under such a deceptive appearance
+of brawn! Ho! Margaret, my dear, I feel better, much better. You have
+cleared the air for me, my child."
+
+"You--are not angry, then, Uncle John? You don't think I ought to have
+put Cousin Sophronia in the rooms?"
+
+"My love, they should have been burned to the ground sooner. There was
+only one person in the world whom your Aunt Faith could not endure, and
+that person was Sophronia Montfort. You did perfectly right, Margaret;
+more right than you knew. If she had got into the White Rooms, I should
+have been under the necessity of taking her forcibly out of them
+(nothing short of force could have done it), and that would have created
+an unpleasantness, you see. Yes! Thank you, my dear little girl! I feel
+quite myself again. We shall worry through, somehow; but remember,
+Margaret, that you are the mistress of Fernley, and, if you have any
+trouble, come to me. And now, my love, we must go home to tea!"
+
+When the gong rang for tea, Margaret and her uncle entered the
+dining-room together--to find Cousin Sophronia already seated at the
+head of the table, rattling the teacups with intention.
+
+"Well, my dears!" she cried, in sprightly tones. "You walked further
+than you intended, did you not? I should not have sat down without you,
+but I was simply famished. I always think punctuality such an important
+factor in the economy of life. It is high time you had some steady head
+to look after you, John!" and she shook her head in affectionate
+playfulness. "Sit down, John!"
+
+Mr. Montfort did not sit down.
+
+"I am sorry you were hungry, Sophronia," he said, kindly. "I cannot
+think of letting you wait to pour tea for me, my dear cousin. Margaret
+does that always; you are to sit here by me, and begin at once upon your
+own supper. Allow me!"
+
+Margaret hardly knew how it was done. There was a bow, a courtly wave of
+the hand, a movement of chairs; and her own place was vacant, and Cousin
+Sophronia was sitting at the side place, very red in the face, her eyes
+snapping out little green lights; and Uncle John was bending over her
+with cordial kindness, pushing her chair in a little further, and
+lifting the train of her dress out of the way. With downcast eyes,
+Margaret took her place, and poured the tea in silence. She felt as if a
+weight were on her eyelids; she could not lift her eyes; she could not
+speak, and yet she must. She shook herself, and made a great effort.
+
+"How do you like your tea, Cousin Sophronia?" she asked, in a voice that
+tried to sound cheerful and unconcerned. And, when she had spoken, she
+managed, with another effort, to look up. Cousin Sophronia was smiling
+and composed, and met her timid glance with an affectionate nod.
+
+"Weak, my dear, if you please,--weak, with cream and sugar. Yes,--that
+will be excellent, I have no doubt. I have to be a little exact about my
+tea, my nerves being what they are. The nights I have, if my tea is not
+precisely the right shade! It seems absurd, but life is made up of
+little things, my dear John. And very right and wise, to have the dear
+child learn to do these things, and practise on us, even if it is a
+little trying at first. Is that the beef tea, Elizabeth? Thank you. I
+told Frances to make me some beef tea, John; I knew hers could be
+depended on, though I suppose she has grown rusty in a good many ways,
+with this hermit life of yours,--so bad for a cook, I always think.
+Yes, this is fair, but not quite what I should have expected from
+Frances. I must see her in the morning, and give her a good rousing; we
+all need a good rousing once in awhile. Frances and I have always been
+the best of friends; we shall get on perfectly, I have no doubt. Ah! The
+old silver looks well, John. Where did that sugar-bowl come from? Is it
+Montfort, or Paston? Paston, I fancy! The Montfort silver is heavier,
+eh?"
+
+"Possibly!" said Mr. Montfort. "That sugar-bowl is neither one nor the
+other, however. It is Dutch."
+
+"Really! Vanderdecken? I didn't know you had any Vanderdecken silver,
+John. Grandmother Vanderdecken left all her silver, I thought, to our
+branch. Such a mistake, I always think, to scatter family silver. Let
+each branch have _all_ that belongs to it, I always say. I feel very
+strongly about it."
+
+"This is not Vanderdecken," said Mr. Montfort, patiently. "I bought it
+in Amsterdam."
+
+"Oh! in Amsterdam! indeed! boughten silver never appeals to me. And
+speaking of silver, I have wished for years that I could find a trace of
+the old Vanderdecken porringer. You remember it, surely, John, at
+Grandmother Vanderdecken's? She had her plum porridge in it every night,
+and I used to play with the cow on the cover. I have tried and tried to
+trace it, but have never succeeded. Stolen, I fear, by some dishonest
+servant."
+
+"I beg your pardon, Cousin Sophronia," said Margaret, blushing. "I have
+the old Vanderdecken porringer, if it is the one with the cow on the
+cover."
+
+"_You!_" cried Miss Sophronia, opening her eyes to their fullest extent.
+
+"Yes," Margaret replied. "There it is, on the sideboard. I have eaten
+bread and milk out of it ever since I can remember, and I still use it
+at breakfast."
+
+Speechless for the moment, Miss Sophronia made an imperious sign to
+Elizabeth, who brought her the beautiful old dish, not without a glance
+of conscious pride at the wonderful blue polish on it. There was no
+piece of plate in the house that took so perfect a polish as this.
+
+Miss Sophronia turned it over and over. Her eyes were very green.
+"Margaret Bleecker. On the occasion of her christening, from her
+godmother," she read. "Yes, this is certainly the Vanderdecken
+porringer. And may I ask how you came by it, my dear?"
+
+"Certainly, Cousin Sophronia. Aunt Eliza Vanderdecken gave it to me at
+my christening; she was my godmother, you see."
+
+"A most extraordinary thing for Eliza Vanderdecken to do!" cried the
+lady. "Eliza Vanderdecken knew, of course, that she was meant to have
+but a life-interest in the personal property, as she never married. I
+cannot understand Eliza's doing such a thing. I have longed all my life
+for this porringer; I have associations with it, you see, lifelong
+associations. I remember my Grandmother Vanderdecken distinctly; you
+never saw her, of course, as she died years before you were born."
+
+"Yes," said Margaret, gently, but not without intention. "And I, Cousin
+Sophronia, associate it with Aunt Eliza, whom I remember distinctly, and
+who was my godmother, and very kind to me. I value this porringer more
+than almost any of my possessions. Thank you, Elizabeth; if you would
+put it back, please. Will you have some more tea, Cousin Sophronia?"
+
+"Let me give you another bit of chicken, Sophronia!" said Mr. Montfort,
+heartily. "I think we have had enough about porringers, haven't we?
+There are six or seven, I believe, in the strong closet. One of 'em was
+Adam's, I've always been told. A little gravy, Sophronia? You're eating
+nothing."
+
+"I have no appetite!" said Miss Sophronia. "You know I only eat to
+support life, John. A side-bone, then, if you insist, and a tiny bit of
+the breast. William always says, 'You must live,' and I suppose I must.
+Cranberry sauce! Thank you! I am really too exhausted to enjoy a morsel,
+but I will make an effort. We _can_ do what we _try_ to do, I always
+say. Thank you, dearest John. I dare say I shall be better to-morrow."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE TRIALS OF MARGARET.
+
+
+Margaret woke early the next morning, and lay wondering where she was.
+Her eyes were used to opening on rose-flowered walls and mahogany
+bed-posts. Here all was soft and white, no spot of colour anywhere. She
+came to herself with a start, and yesterday with its happenings came
+back to her. She sighed, and a little worried wrinkle came on her smooth
+forehead. What a change, in a few short hours! Was all their peaceful,
+dreamy life over, the life that suited both her and her uncle so
+absolutely? They had been so happy! Was it over indeed? It seemed at
+first as if she could not get up and face the cares of the day, under
+the new conditions. Indolent by nature, Margaret dreaded change, and
+above change unpleasantness; it seemed as if she might have plenty of
+both. She rose and dressed in a despondent mood; but when her hair was
+pinned up and her collar straight, she took herself to task. "I give you
+three minutes!" she said, looking at herself in the glass. "If you can't
+look cheerful by that time, you can go to bed again."
+
+[Illustration: "AFTERWARDS SHE SALLIED OUT INTO THE GARDEN."]
+
+The threat, or something else, carried the point, for it was an entirely
+cheerful young woman who came into the library, with a rose for Uncle
+John's buttonhole. Miss Montfort was already there, and responded with
+sad sprightliness to Margaret's greeting. "Thank you, my dear! I was
+just telling your uncle, it is a mere matter of form to ask if I have
+slept. I seldom sleep, especially if I am up-stairs. The servants over
+my head, it may be,--or if not that, I have the feeling of
+insecurity,--stairs, you understand, in case of fire. Dear William had
+my rooms fitted up on the ground floor. 'Sophronia,' he said, 'you must
+sleep!' I suppose it is necessary, but I am so used to lying awake. Such
+frightful noises in the walls, my dear John! Rats, I suppose? Has the
+wainscoting been examined lately, in the room you have put me in? Not
+that it matters in the least; I am the person in the world most easily
+suited, I suppose. A cot, a corner, a crust, as William says, and I am
+satisfied."
+
+It took several crusts to satisfy Miss Sophronia at breakfast.
+Afterwards she sallied out into the garden, where Mr. Montfort was
+enjoying his morning cigar, with Margaret at his side. "You dear child,"
+said the sprightly lady, "run now and amuse yourself, or attend to any
+little duties you may have set yourself. So important, I always say, for
+the young to be regular in everything they do. I am sure you agree with
+me, dearest John. I will be your uncle's companion, my love; that is my
+duty and my pleasure now. I must see your roses, John! No one in the
+world loves roses as I do. What do you use for them? I have a recipe for
+an infallible wash; I must give it to you, I must indeed."
+
+Margaret went into the house; there was no place for her, for the lady
+was leaning on Mr. Montfort's arm, chattering gaily in his ear. Margaret
+was conscious of an unpleasant sensation which was entirely new to her.
+She had always been with people she liked. Rita had often distressed
+her, but still she was most lovable, with all her faults. Cousin
+Sophronia was--not--lovable, the girl said to herself.
+
+It was a relief to visit the kitchen, and find Frances beaming over her
+bread-pan. The good woman hailed Margaret with delight, and received her
+timid suggestions as to dinner with enthusiasm.
+
+"Yes, Miss Margaret, I do think as a chicken-pie would be the very
+thing. I've a couple of fowl in the house now, and what would you think
+of putting in a bit of ham, miss?"
+
+"Oh!" said Margaret. "Is that what you usually do, Frances? Then I am
+sure it will be just right. And about a pudding; what do you think,
+Frances? You know so many kinds of puddings, and they are all so good!"
+
+Well, Frances had been thinking that if Miss Margaret should fancy
+apple-fritters, Mr. Montfort was fond of them, and they had not had them
+this month. And lemon-juice with them, or a little sugar and wine; which
+did Miss Margaret think would be best? This was a delightful way of
+keeping house; and after praising the bread, which was rising white and
+light in the great pan, and poking the bubbles with her little finger,
+and begging that she might be allowed to mix it some day soon, Margaret
+went back in a better humour to the White Rooms, and sat down resolutely
+to her buttonholes. There would be no walk this morning, evidently;
+well, when she had done her hour's stint, she would go for a little
+stroll by herself. After all, perhaps Uncle John would, when the
+strangeness had worn off a little, enjoy having some one of his own age
+to talk to; of course she was very young, too young to be much of a
+companion. Still,--
+
+Well, she would be cheerful and patient, and try to make things pleasant
+so far as she could. And now she could only go and wish Uncle John
+good-bye when he started for town, and perhaps walk to the station with
+him, if he was going to walk.
+
+While she sat sewing, glancing at the clock from time to time, Cousin
+Sophronia came in, work-bag in hand.
+
+"He is gone!" she said, cheerfully. "I saw him off at the gate. Dearest
+John! Excellent, sterling John Montfort! Such a pleasure to be with him!
+Such a joy to feel that I can make a home for him!"
+
+"Gone!" echoed Margaret, looking up in dismay. "Why, surely it is not
+train time!"
+
+"An early train, my love," the lady explained. "Your dear uncle felt
+obliged to start an hour earlier than usual, he explained to me. These
+busy men! And how are you occupying yourself, my dear? Ah! buttonholes?
+Most necessary! But, my love, you are working these the wrong way!"
+
+"No, I think not," said Margaret. "This is the way I have always made
+them, Cousin Sophronia."
+
+"Wrong, my dear! Quite wrong, I assure you. Impossible to get a smooth
+edge if you work them that way. Let me--h'm! yes! that is fairly even, I
+confess; but the other way is the correct one, you must take my word for
+it; and I will show you how, with pleasure. So important, I always say,
+to do things just as they should be done!"
+
+In vain Margaret protested that she understood the other way, but
+preferred this. She finally, for quiet's sake, yielded, and pricked her
+fingers, and made herself hot and cross, working the wrong way.
+
+Miss Sophronia next began to cross-question her about Mrs. Cheriton's
+last days. Such a saintly woman! Austere, some thought; perhaps not
+always charitable--
+
+"Oh!" cried Margaret, indignant. "Cousin Sophronia, you cannot have
+known Aunt Faith at all. She was the very soul of charity; and as for
+being austere--but it is evident you did not know her." She tried to
+keep down her rising temper, with thoughts of the sweet, serene eyes
+that had never met hers without a look of love.
+
+"I knew her before you were born, my dear!" said Miss Sophronia, with a
+slightly acid smile. "Oh, yes, I was intimately acquainted with dear
+Aunt Faith. I have never thought it right to be blind to people's little
+failings, no matter how much we love them. I always tell my brother
+William, 'William, do not ask me to be blind! Ask me, expect me, to be
+indulgent, to be devoted, to be self-sacrificing,--but not blind;
+blindness is contrary to my nature, and you must not expect it.' Yes!
+And--what was done with the clothes, my dear?"
+
+"The clothes?" echoed Margaret. "Aunt Faith's clothes, do you mean,
+Cousin Sophronia?"
+
+"No. I meant the Montfort clothes; the heirlooms, my dear. But perhaps
+you never saw them?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I have seen them often," said Margaret. "They are in the cedar
+chest, Cousin Sophronia, where they have always been. It is in the deep
+closet there," she nodded towards an alcove at the other end of the
+room.
+
+Miss Sophronia rose with alacrity. "Ah! I think I will look them over.
+Very valuable, some of those clothes are; quite unsuitable, I have
+thought for some years, to have them under the charge of an aged person,
+who could not in the course of nature be expected to see to them
+properly. I fear I shall find them in a sad condition."
+
+Her hand was already on the door, when Margaret was able to speak.
+"Excuse me, Cousin Sophronia; the chest is locked."
+
+"Very proper! Entirely proper!" cried the lady. "And you have the key?
+That will not do, will it, my love? Too heavy for these dear young
+shoulders, such a weight of responsibility! I will take entire charge of
+this; not a word! It will be a pleasure! Where is the key, did you say,
+love?"
+
+"Uncle John has the key!" said Margaret, quietly; and blamed herself
+severely for the pleasure she felt in saying it.
+
+"Oh!" Miss Montfort paused, her hand on the door; for a moment she
+seemed at a loss; but she went on again.
+
+"Right, Margaret! Very right, my love! You felt yourself, or your uncle
+felt for you, the unfitness of your having charge of such valuables.
+Ahem! I--no doubt dear John will give me the key, as soon as I mention
+it. I--I shall not speak of it at once; there is no hurry--except for
+the danger of moth. An old house like Fernley is always riddled with
+moth. I fear the clothes must be quite eaten away with them. Such a sad
+pity! The accumulation of generations!"
+
+Margaret hastened to assure her that the clothes were looked over
+regularly once a month, and that no sign of moths had ever been found in
+them. Miss Sophronia sighed and shook her head, and crocheted for some
+minutes in silence; she was making a brown and yellow shoulder-shawl.
+Margaret thought she had never seen a shawl so ugly.
+
+"Has Cousin William Montfort any daughters?" she asked, presently,
+thinking it her turn to bear some of the burden of entertainment.
+
+"Four, my dear!" was the prompt reply. "Sweet girls! young, heedless,
+perhaps not always considerate; but the sweetest girls in the world.
+Amelia is just your age; what a companion she would be for you! Dear
+Margaret! I must write to William, I positively must, and suggest his
+asking you for a good long visit. Such a pleasure for you and for
+Amelia! Not a word, my dear! I shall consider it a duty, a positive
+duty! Amelia is thought to resemble me in many ways; she is the image
+of what I was at her age. I am forming her; her mother is something of
+an invalid, as I think I have told you. The older girls are away from
+home just now,--they make a good many visits; I am always there, and
+they feel that they can go. If they were at home, I should beg dear John
+Montfort to invite Amelia here; such a pleasure for him, to have young
+life in the house. But as it is, William must ask you. Consider it
+settled, my love. A--what was done with Aunt Faith's jewels, my dear?
+She had some fine pearls, I remember. Vanderdecken pearls they were
+originally; I should hardly suppose Aunt Faith would have felt that she
+had more than a life interest in them. And the great amethyst necklace;
+did she ever show you her jewels, my love?"
+
+Margaret blushed, and braced herself to meet the shock. "I have them,
+Cousin Sophronia!" she said, meekly. "Aunt Faith wanted me to have all
+her jewels, and she gave them to me before--before she died." Her voice
+failed, and the tears rushed to her eyes. She was thinking of the frail,
+white-clad figure bending over the ancient jewel-box, and taking out
+the pearls. She heard the soft voice saying, "Your great-grandmother's
+pearls, my Margaret; they are yours now. Wear them for me, and let me
+have the pleasure of seeing them on your neck. You are my pearl,
+Margaret; the only pearl I care for now." Dear, dearest Aunt Faith. Why
+was she not here?
+
+Before Miss Sophronia could recover her power of speech, a knock came at
+the door.
+
+"I beg your pardon, Miss Margaret!" said Elizabeth, putting her head in,
+in answer to Margaret's "Come in!" "The butcher is here, miss, and
+Frances thought perhaps, would you come out and see him, miss?"
+
+"Certainly!" said Margaret, rising; but Miss Sophronia was too quick for
+her.
+
+"In a moment!" she cried, cheerfully. "Tell Frances I will be there in a
+moment, Elizabeth! Altogether too much for you, dear Margaret, to have
+so much care. _I_ cannot have too much care! It is what I live for; give
+the household matters no further thought, I beg of you. You might be
+setting your bureau drawers in order, if you like, while I am seeing
+the butcher; I always look over Amelia's drawers once a week--"
+
+She glided away, leaving Margaret white with anger. How was she to
+endure this? She was nearly eighteen; she had taken care of herself ever
+since she was seven, and had attained, or so she fancied, perfection, in
+the matter of bureau-drawers, at the age of twelve. To have her precious
+arrangements looked over, her boxes opened, her--oh, there could be,
+there _was_ no reason why she should submit to this! She locked the
+drawers quietly, one after the other, and put the key in her pocket. She
+would be respectful; she would be civil always, and cordial when she
+could, but she would not be imposed upon.
+
+By the time Miss Sophronia came back, Margaret was composed, and greeted
+her cousin with a pleasant smile; but this time it was the lady who was
+agitated. She came hurrying in, her face red, her air perturbed.
+"Insufferable!" she cried, as soon as the door was closed. "Margaret,
+that woman is insufferable! She must leave at once."
+
+"Woman! what woman, Cousin Sophronia?" asked Margaret, looking up in
+amazement.
+
+"That Frances! She--why, she is impertinent, Margaret. She insulted me;
+insulted me grossly. I shall speak to John Montfort directly he returns.
+She must go; I cannot stay in the house with her."
+
+Go! Frances, who had been at Fernley twenty years; for whom the new
+kitchen, now only fifteen years old, had been planned and arranged!
+Margaret was struck dumb for a moment; but recovering herself, she tried
+to soothe the angry lady, assuring her that Frances could not have meant
+to be disrespectful; that she had a quick temper, but was so good and
+faithful, and so attached to Uncle John; and so on. In another moment,
+to her great discomfiture, Miss Sophronia burst into tears, declared
+that she was alone in the world, that no one loved her or wanted her,
+and that she was the most unhappy of women. Filled with remorseful pity,
+Margaret bent over her, begging her not to cry. She brought a
+smelling-bottle, and Miss Sophronia clutched it, sobbing, and told
+Margaret she was an angelic child. "This--this is--a Vanderdecken
+vinaigrette!" she said, between her sobs. "Did Eliza Vanderdecken give
+you this, too? Very singular of Eliza! But she never had any sense of
+fitness. Thank you my dear! I suffer--no living creature knows what I
+suffer with my nerves. I--shall be better soon. Don't mind anything I
+said; I must suffer, but it shall always be in silence, I always
+maintain that. No one shall know; I never speak of it; I am the grave,
+for silence. Do not--do not tell your uncle, Margaret, how you have seen
+me suffer. Do not betray my momentary weakness!"
+
+"Certainly not!" said Margaret, heartily. "I will not say a word, Cousin
+Sophronia, of course!"
+
+"He would wish to know!" said Miss Sophronia, smothering a sob into a
+sigh. "John Montfort would be furious if he thought I was ill-treated,
+and we were concealing it from him. He is a lion when once roused. Ah! I
+should be sorry for that woman. But forgiveness is a duty, my dear, and
+I forgive. See! I am myself again. Quite--" with a hysterical
+giggle--"quite myself! I--I will take the vinaigrette to my room with
+me, I think, my dear. Thank you! Dear Margaret! cherub child! how you
+have comforted me!" She went, and Margaret heard her sniffing along the
+entry; heard, and told herself she had no business to notice such
+things; and went back rather ruefully to her buttonholes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+A NEW TYPE.
+
+
+"My child, I thought you were never coming again!" said Mrs. Peyton. "Do
+you know that it is a week since I have seen you? I have been
+destroyed,--positively destroyed, with solitude."
+
+"I am so sorry," said Margaret. "I could not come before; truly I could
+not, Mrs. Peyton. And how have you been?"
+
+Mrs. Peyton leaned back on her pillows, with a little laugh. "Who cares
+how I have been?" she said, lightly. "What does it matter how I have
+been? Tell me some news, Margaret. I must have news. You are alive, you
+move, and have your being; tell me something that will make me feel
+alive, too."
+
+Margaret looked at the lady, and thought she looked very much alive. She
+was a vision of rose colour, from the silk jacket fluttering with
+ribbons, to the pink satin that shimmered through the lace bed-spread.
+The rosy colour almost tinted her cheeks, which were generally the hue
+of warm ivory. Her hair, like crisped threads of gold, was brought down
+low on her forehead, hiding any lines that might have been seen there;
+it was crowned by a bit of cobweb lace, that seemed too slight to
+support the pink ribbon that held it together. The lady's hands were
+small, and exquisitely formed, and she wore several rings of great
+value; her eyes were blue and limpid, her features delicate and regular.
+Evidently, this had been a great beauty. To Margaret, gazing at her in
+honest admiration, she was still one of the most beautiful creatures
+that could be seen.
+
+Mrs. Peyton laughed under the girl's simple look of pleasure. "You like
+my new jacket?" she said. "The doctor never so much as noticed it this
+morning. I think I shall send him away, and get another, who has eyes in
+his head. You are the only person who really cares for my clothes,
+Margaret, and they are the only interest I have in the world."
+
+"I wish you wouldn't talk so!" said Margaret, colouring. "You don't mean
+it, and why will you say it?"
+
+"I do mean it!" said the beautiful lady. "I mean every word of it.
+There's nothing else to care for, except you, you dear little
+old-fashioned thing. I like you, because you are quaint and truthful.
+Have you seen my pink pearl? You are not half observant, that's the
+trouble with you, Margaret Montfort."
+
+She held out her slender hand; Margaret took it, and bent over it
+affectionately. "Oh, what a beautiful ring!" she cried. "I never saw a
+pink pearl like this before, Mrs. Peyton, so brilliant, and such a deep
+rose colour. Isn't it very wonderful?"
+
+"The jeweller thought so," said Mrs. Peyton. "He asked enough for it; it
+might have been the companion to Cleopatra's. The opal setting is
+pretty, too, don't you think? And I have some new stones. You will like
+to see those."
+
+She took up a small bag of chamois leather, that lay on the bed beside
+her, opened it, and a handful of precious stones rolled out on the lace
+spread. Margaret caught after one and another in alarm. "Oh! Oh, Mrs.
+Peyton, they frighten me! Why, this diamond--I never saw such a diamond.
+It's as big as a pea."
+
+"Imperfect!" said the lady. "A flaw in it, you see; but the colour is
+good, and it does just as well for a plaything, though I don't like
+flawed things, as a rule. This sapphire is a good one,--deep, you see; I
+like a deep sapphire."
+
+"This light one is nearer your eyes," said Margaret, taking up a lovely
+clear blue stone.
+
+"Flatterer! People used to say that once; a long time ago. Heigh ho,
+Margaret, don't ever grow old! Take poison, or throw yourself out of the
+window, but don't grow old. It's a shocking thing to do."
+
+Margaret looked at her friend with troubled, affectionate eyes, and laid
+her hand on the jewelled fingers.
+
+"Oh, I mean it!" said the lady, with a pretty little grimace. "I mean
+it, Miss Puritan. See! Here's a pretty emerald. But you haven't told me
+the news. Mr. Montfort is well always?"
+
+"Always!" said Margaret. "We--we have a visitor just now, Mrs.
+Peyton,--some one you know."
+
+"Some one I know?" cried Mrs. Peyton. "I thought every one I knew was
+dead and buried. Who is it, child? Don't keep me in suspense. Can't you
+see that I am palpitating?"
+
+She laughed, and looked so pretty, and so malicious, that Margaret
+wanted to kiss and to shake her at the same moment.
+
+"It is a cousin of Uncle John's and of mine," she said; "Miss Sophronia
+Montfort."
+
+"_What!_" cried Mrs. Peyton, sitting up in bed. "Sophronia Montfort? You
+are joking, Margaret."
+
+Assured that Margaret was not joking, she fell back again on her
+pillows. "Sophronia Montfort!" she said, laughing softly. "I have not
+heard of her since the flood. How does John--how does Mr. Montfort
+endure it, Pussy? He was not always a patient man."
+
+Margaret thought her uncle one of the most patient men she had ever
+seen.
+
+"And how many men have you seen, little girl? Never mind! I will allow
+him all the qualities of the Patient Patriarch. He will need them all,
+if he is to have Sophronia long. I am sorry for you, Pussy! Come over as
+often as you can to see me. I am dull, but there are worse things than
+dullness."
+
+This was not very encouraging.
+
+"She--Cousin Sophronia--sent you a great many messages," Margaret said,
+timidly. "She--is very anxious to see you, Mrs. Peyton. She would like
+to come over some morning, and spend an hour with you."
+
+"If she does, I'll poison her!" said Mrs. Peyton, promptly. "Don't look
+shocked, Margaret Montfort; I shall certainly do as I say. Sophronia
+comes here at peril of her life, and you may tell her so with my
+compliments."
+
+Margaret sat silent and distressed, not knowing what to say. She had
+known very few people in her quiet life, and this beautiful lady, whom
+she admired greatly, also puzzled her sadly.
+
+"I cannot tell her that, can I, dear Mrs. Peyton?" she said, at last. "I
+shall tell her that you are not well,--that is true, most
+certainly,--and that you do not feel able to see her."
+
+"Tell her what you please," said Emily Peyton, laughing again. "If she
+comes, I shall poison her,--that is my first and last word. Tell her?
+Tell her that Emily Peyton is a wreck; that she lies here like a log,
+week after week, month after month, caring for nothing, no one caring
+for her, except a kind little girl, who is frightened at her wild talk.
+I might try the poison on myself first, Margaret; what do you think of
+that?" Then, seeing Margaret's white, shocked face, she laughed again,
+and fell to tossing the gems into the air, and catching them as they
+fell. "It would be a pity, though, just when I have got all these new
+playthings. Did you bring a book to read to me, little girl? I can't
+abide reading, but I like to hear your voice. You have something, I see
+it in your guilty face. Poetry, I'll be bound. Out with it, witch! You
+hope to bring me to a sense of the error of my ways. Why, I used to read
+poetry, Margaret, by the dozen yards. Byron,--does any one read Byron
+nowadays?"
+
+"My father was fond of Byron," said Margaret. "He used to read me bits
+of 'Childe Harold' and the 'Corsair;' I liked them, and I always loved
+the 'Assyrian.' But--I thought you might like something bright and
+cheerful to-day, Mrs. Peyton, so I brought Austin Dobson. Are you fond
+of Dobson?"
+
+"Never heard of him!" said the lady, carelessly. "Read whatever you
+like, child; your voice always soothes me. Will you come and be my
+companion, Margaret? Your uncle has Sophronia now; he cannot need you.
+Come to me! You shall have a thousand, two thousand dollars a year, and
+all the jewels you want. I'll have these set for you, if you like."
+
+[Illustration: "'DID YOU BRING A BOOK TO READ TO ME, LITTLE GIRL?'"]
+
+She seemed only half in earnest, and Margaret laughed. "You sent your
+last companion away, you know, Mrs. Peyton," she said. "I'm afraid I
+should not suit you, either."
+
+"My dear, that woman ate apples! No one could endure that, you know.
+Ate--champed apples in my ears, and threw the cores into my grate.
+Positively, she smelt of apples all day long. I had to have the room
+fumigated when she left. A dreadful person! One of her front teeth was
+movable, too, and set me distracted every time she opened her mouth. Are
+you ever going to begin?"
+
+Margaret read two or three of her favourite poems, but with little heart
+in her reading, for she felt that her listener was not listening. Now
+and then would come an impatient sigh, or a fretful movement of the
+jewelled hands; once a sapphire was tossed up in the air, and fell on
+the floor by Margaret's feet. Only when she began the lovely "Good
+Night, Babette!" did Mrs. Peyton's attention seem to fix. She listened
+quietly, and, at the end, drew a deep breath.
+
+"You call that bright and cheerful, do you?" Mrs. Peyton murmured.
+"Everything looks cheerful in the morning. Good night,--"I grow so
+old,"--how dare you read me such a thing as that, Margaret Montfort? It
+is an impertinence."
+
+"Indeed," said Margaret, colouring, and now really wounded. "I do not
+understand you at all to-day, Mrs. Peyton. I don't seem to be able to
+please you, and it is time for me to go."
+
+She rose, and the lady, her mood changing again in an instant, took her
+two hands, and drew her close to her side.
+
+"You are my only comfort," she said. "Do you hear that? You are the only
+person in this whole dreadful place that I would give the half of a
+burnt straw to see. Remember that, when I behave too abominably. Yes, go
+now, for I am going to have a bad turn. Send Antonia; and come again
+soon--soon, do you hear, Margaret? But remember--remember that the
+poison-bowl waits for Sophronia!"
+
+"What--shall I give her any message?" said poor Margaret, as she bent
+to kiss the white forehead between the glittering waves of hair.
+
+"Give her my malediction," said Mrs. Peyton. "Tell her it is almost a
+consolation for lying here, to think I need not see her. Tell her
+anything you like. Go now! Good-bye, child! Dear little quaint, funny,
+prim child, good-bye!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Margaret walked home sadly enough. She loved and admired her beautiful
+friend, but she did not understand her, and there was much that she
+could not approve. It seemed absurd, she often said to herself, for a
+girl of her age to criticise, to venture to disapprove, of a woman old
+enough to be her mother, one who had travelled the world over, and knew
+plenty of human nature, if little of books. Yet, the thought would come
+again, there was no age to right and wrong; and there were things that
+it could not be right to think, or kind to say, at eighteen or at
+eighty. And her uncle did not like Mrs. Peyton. Margaret felt that,
+without his having ever put it into words. Still, she was so beautiful,
+so fascinating,--and so kind to her! Perhaps, unconsciously, Margaret
+did miss a good deal the two young cousins who had been with her during
+her first year at Fernley; surely, and every hour, she missed her Aunt
+Faith, whose tenderness had been that of the mother she had never known.
+
+She was in no haste to go home; there was still an hour before Uncle
+John would come. There was little peace at home in these days, but a
+prying eye, and a tongue that was seldom still save in sleep. She had
+left Elizabeth in tears to-day, her precious linen having been pulled
+over, and all the creases changed because they ran the wrong way. In
+vain Margaret had reminded her of the heroine of the story she had liked
+so much, the angelic Elizabeth of Hungary. "It don't make much
+difference, Miss Margaret!" Elizabeth said. "I am no saint, miss, and
+all the roses in the world wouldn't make my table-cloths look fit to go
+on, now."
+
+Frances was "neither to hold or to bind;" even the two young girls whom
+the elder women had in training were tossing their heads and muttering
+over their brasses and their saucepans. The apple of discord seemed to
+be rolling all about the once peaceful rooms of Fernley House. "I'll go
+home through the woods," said Margaret, "and see if they have begun work
+on the bog yet."
+
+It was lovely in the woods. Margaret thought there could be no such
+woods in the world as these of Fernley. The pines were straight and
+tall, and there was little or no undergrowth; just clear, fragrant
+stretches of brown needles, where one could lie at length and look up
+into the whispering green, and watch the birds and squirrels. There was
+moss here and there; here and there, too, a bed of pale green ferns,
+delicate and plumy; but most of it was the soft red-brown carpet that
+Margaret loved better even than ferns. She walked slowly along, drinking
+in beauty and rest at every step. If she could only bring the sick lady
+out here, she thought, to breathe this life-giving air! Surely she would
+be better! She did not look ill enough to stay always in bed. They must
+try to bring it about.
+
+She stopped at the little brook, and sat down on a mossy stone. The
+water was clear and brown, breaking into white over the pebbles here and
+there. How delightful it would be to take off her shoes and stockings,
+and paddle about a little! Peggy, her cousin, would have been in the
+water in an instant, very likely shoes and all; but Margaret was timid,
+and it required some resolution to pull off her shoes and stockings, and
+a good deal of glancing over her shoulder, to make sure that no one was
+in sight. Indeed, who could be? The water was cool; oh, so cool and
+fresh! She waded a little way; almost lost her balance on a slippery
+stone, and fled back to the bank, laughing and out of breath. A frog
+came up to look at her, and goggled in amazement; she flipped water at
+him with her hand, and he vanished indignant. It would be very pleasant
+to walk along the bed of the stream, as far as the entrance to the bog
+meadow. Could she venture so far? No, for after all, it was possible
+that some of the workmen might have arrived and might be in the
+neighbourhood, though they were not to begin work till the next day.
+Very slowly Margaret drew her feet out of the clear stream where they
+twinkled and looked so white,--Margaret had pretty feet,--but she could
+not make up her mind to put on the shoes and stockings just yet. She
+must dry her feet; and this moss was delightful to walk on. So on she
+went, treading lightly and carefully, finding every step a pure
+pleasure, till she saw sunlight breaking through the green, and knew
+that she was coming to the edge of the peat bog. Ah, what memories this
+place brought to Margaret's mind! She could see her cousin Rita,
+springing out in merry defiance over the treacherous green meadow; could
+hear her scream, and see her sinking deep, deep, into the dreadful
+blackness below. Then, like a flash, came Peggy from the wood, this very
+wood she was walking in now, and ran, and crept, and reached out, and by
+sheer strength and cleverness saved Rita from a dreadful death, while
+she, Margaret, stood helpless by. Dear, brave Peggy! Ah, dear girls
+both! How she would like to see them this moment. Why! Why, what was
+that?
+
+Some one was whistling out there in the open. Whistling a lively,
+rollicking air, with a note as clear and strong as a bird's. Horror! The
+workmen must have come! Margaret was down on the grass in an instant,
+pulling desperately at her shoes and stockings. From the panic she was
+in, one might have thought that the woods were full of whistling
+brigands, all rushing in her direction, with murder in their hearts. She
+could hardly see; there was a knot in her shoe-string; why did she ever
+have shoes that tied? Her heart was beating, the blood throbbing in her
+ears,--and all the time the whistling went on, not coming nearer, but
+trilling away in perfect cheerfulness, though broken now and then, and
+coming in fits and starts. At last! At last the shoes were tied, and
+Margaret stood up, still panting and crimson, but feeling that she could
+face a robber, or even an innocent workman, without being disgraced for
+life. Cautiously she stole to the edge of the wood, and peeped between
+the pine-boles. The sun lay full on the peat bog, and it shone like a
+great, sunny emerald, friendly and smiling, with no hint of the black
+treachery at its heart. No hint? But look! Out in the very middle of the
+bog a figure was standing, balanced on a tussock of firm earth. A light,
+active figure, in blue jean jumper and overalls. One of the workmen, who
+did not know of the peril, and was plunging to his destruction? Margaret
+opened her lips to cry aloud, but kept silence, for the next moment she
+comprehended that the young man (he was evidently young, though his back
+was turned to her) knew well enough what he was about. He had a long
+pole in his hand, and with this he was poking and prodding about in the
+black depths beneath him. Now he sounded carefully a little way ahead of
+him, and then, placing his pole carefully on another firm spot, leaped
+to it lightly. The black bog water gurgled up about his feet, but he did
+not sink, only planted his feet more firmly, and went on with his
+sounding. Now he was singing. What was he singing? What a quaint, funny
+air!
+
+        "A wealthy young farmer of Plymouth, we hear,
+         He courted a nobleman's daughter, so dear;
+         And for to be married it was their intent,--
+
+Hi! muskrat!--come out of there!" He almost lost his balance, and
+Margaret screamed a very small scream, that could not be heard a dozen
+yards. Recovering himself, the young man began to make his way towards
+the shore, at a point nearly opposite to where Margaret stood. Springing
+lightly to the firm ground, he took off his cap, and made a low bow to
+the bog, saying at the same time something, Margaret could not hear
+what. Then, looking carefully about him, the young workman appeared to
+be selecting a spot of earth that was to his mind; having done so, he
+sat down, took out a note-book, and wrote with ardour for several
+minutes. Then he took off his cap, and ran his fingers through his
+hair--which was very curly, and bright red--till it stood up in every
+direction; then he turned three elaborate somersaults; and then, with
+another salute to the bog, and a prolonged whistle, he went off, leaping
+on his pole, and singing, as he went:
+
+        "And for to be mar-ri-ed it was their intent;
+         All friends and relations had given their consent."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+A LESSON IN GEOGRAPHY.
+
+
+"Margaret!"
+
+"Yes, uncle."
+
+"Can you come here a moment, my dear?"
+
+"Surely, Uncle John. I was looking for you, and could not find you."
+
+Margaret came running in from the garden. Her uncle was sitting in his
+private study, which opened directly on the garden, and communicated by
+a staircase in the wall with his bedroom. The study was a pleasant room,
+lined with books for the most part, but with some valuable pictures, and
+a great table full of drawers, and several presses or secretaries,
+filled with papers and family documents of every kind. Mr. John
+Montfort, recluse though he was, was the head of a large and important
+family connection. Few of his relatives ever saw him, but most of them
+were in more or less constant correspondence with him, and he knew all
+their secrets, though not one of them could boast of knowing his. He was
+the friend and adviser, the kindly helper, of many a distant cousin who
+had never met the kind, grave glance of his brown eyes. Peggy Montfort
+used to say, in the days when it had pleased him to appear as John
+Strong, the gardener, that it "smoothed her all out," just to look at
+him; and many people experienced the same feeling on receiving one of
+his letters. No one had it, however, so strongly as Margaret herself, or
+so she thought; and it was with a sensation of delightful relief that
+she answered his call this morning. Mr. Montfort turned round from the
+great table at which he was sitting, and held out his hand
+affectionately.
+
+"Come here, my child," he said, "and let me look at you. Look me
+straight in the eyes; yes, that will do. You are feeling well, Margaret?
+You look well, I must say."
+
+"Well? Of course, Uncle John! Am I ever anything else? I have never had
+a day's illness since I came here."
+
+"You do not feel the load of responsibility too much for your young
+shoulders?" Mr. Montfort went on. "It--it is not too dull for you here,
+alone month after month with an elderly man, and a hermit, and one who
+has the reputation of a grim and unfriendly old fellow? What do you say,
+Margaret?"
+
+The quick tears sprang to Margaret's eyes. She looked up at her uncle,
+and saw in his eyes the quizzical twinkle that always half puzzled and
+wholly delighted her. "Oh, uncle!" she cried; "you really deceived me
+this time! I might have known you were in fun,--but you were so grave!"
+
+"Grave?" said Mr. Montfort. "Never more so, I assure you. I may not have
+very serious doubts, in my own mind; nevertheless, I want your
+assurance. Do you, Margaret Montfort, find life a burden under existing
+circumstances, or do you find it--well, endurable for awhile yet?"
+
+"I find life as happy as I can imagine it," said Margaret, simply; and
+then, being absolutely truthful, she added, "That is,--I did find it
+so, Uncle John,--until these last two weeks."
+
+"Precisely!" said Mr. Montfort. "Not a word, my dear! I understand you.
+You are fond of children, I think, Margaret?"
+
+"Very fond," said Margaret, thinking that Uncle John was strange indeed
+to-day.
+
+"Get on well with them, I should suppose. You had a great deal of
+influence over Peggy, Margaret."
+
+"Dear, good Peggy! She was so ready to be influenced, Uncle John. She
+was just waiting to--to be helped on a little, don't you know?"
+
+"Yes; so Rita thought, if I remember aright!" said Mr. Montfort, dryly.
+"But with younger children, eh? You have had some experience of them,
+perhaps, Margaret?"
+
+Was he still joking? Margaret had not much sense of humour, and she was
+sadly puzzled again.
+
+"I--I love little children," she said. "Of course I do, Uncle John!"
+
+"Little children,--yes. But how about boys? Active, noisy,
+happy-go-lucky boys? Boys that smash windows, and yell, and tear their
+clothes on barbed-wire fences? How about those, Margaret?"
+
+"Is that the kind of boy you were, Uncle John?" asked Margaret, smiling.
+"Because if so, I am sure I shall like them very much."
+
+"Very well, my dear child!" he said. "You are well and happy, and we
+understand each other, and that is all right, very right. Now,
+Margaret,--I ask this for form's sake merely,--have you been in this
+room before, to-day?"
+
+"No, Uncle John," said Margaret.
+
+"Of course you have not. Knew it before I asked you. Do you notice
+anything unusual in the appearance of the room, my dear?"
+
+Margaret looked about her, wondering. It produced an impression
+of--well, not just the perfect order in which it was generally to be
+found. Several drawers were half open; a sheaf of papers lay on the
+floor, as if dropped by a startled hand. The writing things were
+disarranged, slightly, yet noticeably; for Mr. Montfort always kept them
+in one position, which was never changed save when they were in actual
+use.
+
+"Why, it looks--as if--as if you had been in a hurry, Uncle John," she
+said at last.
+
+"It looks as if _some one_ had been in a hurry," said Mr. Montfort,
+significantly. "I have not been in this room before, to-day; I found it
+in this condition. Never mind, my dear! I am going to write a letter
+now. Don't let me keep you any longer."
+
+Margaret went away, wondering much; her uncle joined her soon, and they
+looked at the roses together, and chatted as usual, and were happy, till
+Cousin Sophronia rapped on the window with her thimble, and asked
+whether they were coming in, or whether she should come out and join
+them.
+
+She was trying that evening, Cousin Sophronia. Nothing on the tea-table
+suited her, to begin with. She declared the beef tea unfit to touch, and
+desired Mr. Montfort to taste it, which he politely but firmly refused
+to do. "But it is not fit to eat!" cried the lady. "I insist on your
+tasting it, my dear John."
+
+"My dear Sophronia, I am extremely sorry it is not to your taste. If it
+is not good, I certainly do not want to taste it. Send it away and ask
+me to taste something that is good."
+
+The chicken was tough. "You should change your butcher, John. Or are
+these your own fowls? Chickens I will not call them; they must be two
+years old at least. Nothing disagrees with me like tough poultry. Nobody
+to look after the fowls properly, I suppose. I must take them in hand;
+not that I have had any experience myself of fowls, but an educated
+person, you understand. So important, I always say, to bring educated
+intelligence to bear on these matters. And then, these knives are so
+dull! Even if the fowls were tender, impossible to make an impression
+with such a knife as this. Elizabeth, what do you use for your knives?"
+
+Elizabeth used Bristol brick, as she always had done.
+
+"Ah, entirely out of date, Bristol brick. You must send for some of the
+preparation that William uses, John. Nothing like it. Something or
+other, it's called; somebody's--I can't remember now, but we will have
+it, never fear, dearest John. Shameful, for you to be subjected to dull
+knives _and_ tough poultry. What are these? Strawberries? Dear me! I did
+hope we could have raspberries this evening. One is so tired of
+strawberries by this time, don't you think so?"
+
+"I am sorry," said Mr. Montfort. "The raspberries will be ripe in a day
+or two, Sophronia; Willis thought they would hardly do to pick to-day."
+
+"Oh, but I assure you, my dearest John, Willis is entirely wrong. I
+examined the bushes myself; I went quite through them, and found them
+quite--entirely ripe. That was just Willis's laziness, depend upon it.
+These old servants" (Elizabeth had gone to get more cream, the lady
+having emptied the jug on her despised strawberries) "are too lazy to be
+of much use. Depend upon it, John, you will know no peace until you get
+rid of them all, and start afresh; I am thinking very seriously about
+it, I assure you, my dear fellow. Yes, I have been longing for days for
+a plate of raspberries and cream. I have so little appetite, that
+whenever I _can_ tempt it a little, the doctor says, I must not fail to
+do so. No more, dear, thank you! It is of no consequence, you know,
+really, not the least in the world; only, one can be of so much more
+use, when one keeps one's health. Ah, you remember what health I had as
+a child, John! You remember the dear old days here, when we were
+children together?"
+
+"I remember them very well, Sophronia," said Mr. Montfort, steadily.
+"And speaking of that, I am expecting some young visitors here in a day
+or two."
+
+Cousin Sophronia looked up with a jerk; Margaret looked at her uncle in
+surprise; he sipped his tea tranquilly, and repeated: "Some young
+visitors, yes. They will interest you, Sophronia, with your strong
+family feeling."
+
+"Who--who are they?" asked Miss Sophronia. "Most ill-judged, I must say,
+to have children here just now; who did you say they were, John?"
+
+"Cousin Anthony's children. They lost their mother some years ago, you
+remember; I fancy Anthony has had rather a hard time with them since.
+Now he has to go out West for the rest of the summer, and I have asked
+them to come here."
+
+For once Miss Sophronia was speechless. After a moment's silence,
+Margaret ventured to say, timidly, "How old are the children, Uncle
+John?"
+
+"Really, my dear, I hardly know. Two boys and a girl, I believe. I don't
+even know their names; haven't seen their father for twenty years. Good
+fellow, Anthony; a little absent-minded and heedless, but a good fellow
+always. I was glad to be able to oblige him."
+
+Miss Sophronia recovered her speech.
+
+"Really, my dear John," she said, with an acrid smile; "I had no idea
+you were such a philanthropist. If Fernley is to become an asylum for
+orphan relations--"
+
+"Sophronia!" said Mr. Montfort.
+
+His tone was quiet, but there was something in it that made the lady
+redden, and check herself instantly. Margaret wondered what would
+become of her, if her uncle should ever speak to her in that tone.
+
+"I am sure I meant nothing!" said Miss Sophronia, bridling and rallying
+again. "I am sure there was no allusion to our dearest Margaret. Absurd!
+But these children are very different. Why, Anthony Montfort is your
+second cousin, John. I know every shade of relationship; it is
+impossible to deceive me in such matters, John."
+
+"I should not attempt it, my dear cousin," said Mr. Montfort, quietly.
+"Anthony _is_ my second cousin. I will go further to meet you, and admit
+boldly that these children are my second cousins once removed, and
+Margaret's third cousins. Where shall we put them, Margaret?"
+
+"My dearest John," cried Miss Sophronia, in her gayest tone, "you are
+not to give it a thought! Is he, Margaret? No, my dear fellow! It is
+noble of you--Quixotic, I must think, but undeniably noble--to take in
+these poor little waifs; but you shall have no further thought about
+providing for them. Everything shall be arranged; I know the house from
+garret to cellar, remember. I will make every arrangement, dearest John,
+depend upon me!"
+
+The evenings were not very gay at Fernley just now. Miss Sophronia could
+not keep awake while any one else read aloud; so she took matters into
+her own hands, and read herself, for an hour by the clock. Her voice was
+high and thin, and kept Mr. Montfort awake; she was apt to emphasise the
+wrong words, which made Margaret's soul cry out within her; and she
+stopped every few minutes to chew a cardamom seed with great
+deliberation. This simple action had the effect of making both her
+hearers extremely nervous, they could not have explained why. Also, she
+was afflicted with a sniff, which recurred at regular intervals,
+generally in the middle of a sentence. Altogether the reading was a
+chastened pleasure nowadays; and this particular evening it was
+certainly a relief when she declared, before the hour was quite over,
+that she was hoarse, and must stop before the end of the chapter. On the
+whole, she thought it might be better for her to go to bed early, and
+take some warm drink. "It would never do for me to be laid up, with
+these children coming to be seen after!" she declared. So she departed,
+and Margaret and her uncle sat down to a game of backgammon, and played
+slowly and peacefully, lingering over their moves as long as they
+pleased, and tasting the pleasure of having no one say that they should
+play this or that, "of course!"
+
+The game over, Mr. Montfort leaned back in his chair, with an air of
+content.
+
+"This is pleasant!" he said, slowly. "Margaret, my dear, this is very
+pleasant!" Margaret smiled at him, but made no reply. None was needed:
+the uncle and niece were so much alike in tastes and feelings, that they
+hardly needed speech, sometimes, to know each other's thoughts. Both
+were content to sit now silent, in the soft, cheerful candle-light,
+looking about on the books and pictures that they loved, and feeling the
+silence like a cordial.
+
+Suddenly Mr. Montfort's air of cheerful meditation changed. He sat
+upright, and leaned slightly forward. He seemed to listen for
+something. Then suddenly, softly, he rose, and with silent step crossed
+the room and stood a moment beside the wall. It was a very different
+face that he turned to Margaret the next instant.
+
+"My dear," he said, "there is some one in my study."
+
+"In your study, Uncle John? What do you mean? That is,--how can you
+tell, uncle?"
+
+"Come here, and listen!" said her uncle. Margaret stole to his side, and
+listened, her head, like his, near the wall. She heard the crackling of
+paper; the sound of a drawer pulled softly out; the clank, muffled, but
+unmistakable, of brass handles. What did it mean? She looked to her
+uncle for explanation. He shook his head and motioned her to be silent.
+Then, taking her hand in his, he led her softly from the room. Margaret
+followed, greatly wondering, across the wide hall; through the low door
+that led to the White Rooms, now her own; into her own sitting-room, or
+Aunt Faith's room, as she still loved to call it. Here Mr. Montfort
+released her hand, and again motioned her to be silent.
+
+"I will explain by and by, my dear," he said. "Follow me, now, and learn
+another lesson in Fernley geography; I was keeping it for a surprise
+some day, but never mind. Where is this place?"
+
+Margaret noticed, in all her confusion of surprise, that the great white
+chair was pushed away from its usual place. Her uncle stepped in behind
+the table near which it always stood, and passed his hand along the
+smooth white panel of the wall. Noiselessly it swung open, revealing a
+dark space. Margaret obeyed his gesture, and following, found herself in
+a narrow passage, carpeted with felt, on which her feet made no sound.
+They went forward some way; it was quite dark, but she followed her
+uncle's guidance, and he trod as surely as if it were broad daylight.
+Presently he stopped, and, with a pressure of the hand, bade her listen
+again. The rustling of paper sounded very clear now; there was another
+rustle, too, the rustle of silk. Suddenly, light flashed upon them;
+Margaret felt herself drawn swiftly forward; there was a smothered
+exclamation in her uncle's voice, followed by a scream from another.
+
+They were standing in Mr. Montfort's study. The room was lighted by a
+single candle, that stood on the writing-table; beside this table,
+backed against it in an attitude of terror and surprise, stood Miss
+Sophronia Montfort, her hands full of documents, her eyes glaring. There
+was a moment of silence, and Margaret counted her heart-beats. Then--
+
+"Can I be of any assistance to you, my dear Sophronia?" asked Mr.
+Montfort, blandly. "You seem in distress; allow me to relieve you of
+some of these." He took the papers quietly, and laid them on the table.
+Miss Sophronia gasped once, twice; opened and shut her eyes several
+times, and swallowed convulsively; when she spoke, it was with a
+fluttering voice, but in something like her ordinary tone.
+
+"My dear John! How you startled me! A--a--little surprise for you, my
+dear fellow. Such a shocking condition as your papers were in. I
+thought--a kindness--to bring a little order out of chaos; he! he!
+ahem! my throat is troublesome to-night. A warm drink! Yes, my dear
+John, I remembered the old passage, you see. I said, why should I
+disturb the dear fellow, to ask him for the key to the outer door? And
+really, John, these papers are too--too bad!"
+
+She shook her head in a manner that was meant to be playful; but
+suddenly the smile dropped from her face like a mask; for Mr. Montfort
+did a singular thing. He bent his head forward slightly; fixed his eyes
+on his cousin with a peculiar expression, and advanced slowly, one step.
+"Sophronia!" he said.
+
+Miss Sophronia began to tremble.
+
+"Don't, John!" she cried. "John Montfort, don't do it! I am your own
+cousin. Your father and mine were brothers, John. I hope I know my
+duty--ah, don't! I will not, John Montfort!"
+
+Margaret looked from one to the other in blank amazement. The lady
+seemed in the extremity of terror. Her uncle--was this her uncle?
+Instead of the grave, dignified gentleman, she seemed to see a boy; a
+boy intent on mischief, every motion of him alive with power and
+malice. Step by step he advanced, his hands clenched, his head bent
+forward, his eyes still fixed, bright and strong, on his cousin.
+
+"Sophronia!" he said, "I am coming! Sophronia! Sophronia! Sophronia!"
+Each time he quickened voice and step. He was almost upon her; with one
+wild shriek Miss Sophronia turned and fled. Her skirts whisked along the
+secret passage; they heard the door bang. She was gone.
+
+Mr. Montfort sat down in his study chair and laughed long and silently.
+
+"Don't look so frightened, my dear!" he said, at last. "It was a scurvy
+trick, but she deserved it. I--I used to run Sophronia up-stairs,
+Margaret, when she was a troublesome girl. It always frightened her. I'd
+have done it in another minute, if she had not run, but I knew she
+would. Poor Sophronia! I suppose something of the boy stays in us, my
+dear, as long as we live. I--I am afraid I should rather have enjoyed
+running Sophronia up-stairs."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE DAUNTLESS THREE.
+
+
+The next morning Miss Sophronia kept her bed; her cold, she said, was
+too severe to admit of her joining the family at breakfast. Margaret
+waited on her with an uneasy sense of guilt in general, though she could
+not accuse herself of any special sin. She did her best to be
+sympathetic and dutiful, having been brought up to respect her elders
+sincerely. But she was puzzled all the same, and when it came to any
+question between her cousin and her uncle, there were no more doubts.
+She must put herself out of the way as much as possible, and give up,
+wherever her own pleasure was concerned,--where it was any matter
+connected with Uncle John, she would be the Rock of Gibraltar. This
+being settled, the Rock of Gibraltar brought raspberries for Cousin
+Sophronia's breakfast, and made her room bright with flowers, and tried
+to make cheer for her. The poor lady was rather subdued, and told
+Margaret she was a cherub child; then declared she would not be a burden
+on any one, and sent the girl away to "amuse herself."
+
+"Be happy as a butterfly, my dear, all the morning; don't give me a
+thought, I beg of you. If Frances would have a new-laid egg ready for me
+at eleven--positively a new-laid one, Margaret! Perhaps you would bring
+it yourself from the hen-yard. I have no confidence in servants, and it
+would make a pleasant little trip for you. So important, I always say,
+for the young to have something useful to mingle with their sports.
+Boiled three minutes and a half, my love! I doubt if I can eat it, but
+it is my duty to make the attempt. Bless you! Good-bye! If you happen to
+have nothing to do about twelve, you might bring your work and sit with
+me. I am the most sociable creature in the world; I cannot endure to be
+alone when I am ill; but don't have me on your mind, my love, for a
+single instant."
+
+All the duties attended to, Margaret spent a delightful hour, with
+Elizabeth's assistance, in making ready the rooms for the newcomers. The
+little girl was to have Peggy's room, next her own, and that needed
+nothing save fresh flowers in the vases, and fresh ribbons on the
+curtains. But the boys were to have the old nursery, the great room that
+ran across the whole width of the house, on the third floor. It was a
+pleasant room, with dormer windows facing east and south, a great
+fireplace, with a high wire fender, and a huge sofa, covered with red
+chintz dragons. A funny sofa it was, with little drawers let in along
+the sides. John Montfort and his brothers used to lie on this sofa, when
+they had the measles and whooping-cough, and play with the brass
+drawer-handles, and keep their treasures in the drawers. The windows
+were barred, and there was a gate across the landing, at the top of the
+stairs. Elizabeth had suggested taking away the gate and the bars, "such
+big young gentlemen as these would be, most likely, sir!" but Mr.
+Montfort shook his head very decidedly.
+
+"If they are Montfort boys, Elizabeth, they will need all the bars we
+can give them. Master Richard was twelve, when he squeezed himself
+between these, and went along the gutter hanging by his hands, till he
+came to the spout, and shinned down it. Never make things too easy for a
+Montfort boy!"
+
+In one corner stood a huge rocking-horse, with saddle and bridle of
+crimson leather, rather the worse for wear. He was blind of one eye, and
+his tail had seen service, but he was a fine animal for all that.
+Margaret hunted about in the attic, and found a box of ninepins.
+Marbles, too; Uncle John had told her that there must be marbles
+somewhere, in a large bag of flowered purple calico, with a red string.
+They had been there forty years; they must be there still. She found
+them at last, hanging from a peg of one of the great beams. On the beam
+close by was written:
+
+        "This is my Peg. If any Pig touches my Peg,
+        that Pig will be Pegged. Signed, JOHN MONTFORT."
+
+"Oh," thought Margaret, "what a pleasant boy Uncle John must have been!
+What good times we should have had together!" And then she reflected
+that he could not possibly have been so nice a boy as he was an uncle,
+and was content.
+
+The marbles, and the rocking-horse, and--what else ought there to be?
+Tops! Uncle John had said something about tops. Here Margaret screamed,
+and fled to the attic door. Something was moving on the beam by which
+she had been standing, perched on a chair. Something rolled slowly
+along, half the length of the beam, and dropped to the floor and rolled
+towards her. Laughing now, Margaret stooped and picked up a great ball,
+a leather ball, striped red and black. On one of the red stripes was
+written, in large, unconventional letters, "Roger." It was her father's
+ball! Margaret held the toy very tenderly in her hands, and tried to see
+the worn, thoughtful face she remembered so well, a rosy boy's face,
+full of light and laughter. She had seen, yesterday, strangely enough,
+her uncle's boyish looks, revealed in a flash of mischief; it was less
+easy to see her father's.
+
+As she stood meditating, the sound of wheels was heard outside. Margaret
+ran to look out of the little gable window, then clapped her hands
+together, in amazement and pleasure. The children had come!
+
+When she reached the verandah, they were already standing there, facing
+Mr. Montfort, who had come out by an early train, and was standing
+looking at them with amused attention, holding the little girl's hands
+in his.
+
+"And what are your names, my dears?" he was saying.
+
+"Basil, Merton, and Susan D.," replied the elder boy, promptly, while
+three pairs of sharp eyes were fastened on the strange uncle.
+
+"Battle, Murder, and Sudden Death!" said Mr. Montfort under his breath.
+He had no idea that any one could hear him, but a shriek of laughter
+startled him, and made Margaret jump.
+
+"That's what Puppa calls us!" cried Basil, springing lightly up and down
+on the tips of his toes. "We didn't know whether you would or not; he
+said you would pretty soon, anyhow. How do you do, Uncle John? We are
+very well, thank you. I am thirteen, and Mert is twelve, and Susan D. is
+ten. Puppa hopes we shall not be troublesome, and here are the keys of
+the trunks."
+
+The boy drew a long breath, and looked round him with an air of triumph.
+
+"Well, I should think you would know it!" said his brother. "Been saying
+it all the way over here."
+
+"More than you could do!" retorted his elder.
+
+"Wouldn't do it anyhow, so there!" said the younger.
+
+[Illustration: "THE LITTLE GIRL HAD NEVER STIRRED, BUT STOOD GAZING UP
+AT THE BIG MAN WHO HELD HER HANDS."]
+
+These last remarks had been carried on in an undertone, the set speech
+having been delivered slowly and with much dignity. Finally each boy
+kicked the other's shins surreptitiously, and then both stared again at
+their uncle. The little girl had never stirred, but stood gazing up at
+the big man who held her hands so lightly and yet so kindly, and who had
+such bright, deep, quiet brown eyes. Margaret, standing in the doorway,
+scrutinised the three, and felt a sinking at the heart. Basil Montfort
+was a tall boy for his age, slender and wiry, with tow-coloured hair
+that stood straight on end, thin lips that curled up at the corners with
+a suggestion of malice, and piercing gray eyes, which he had a trick of
+screwing up till they were like gimlet points. The second, Merton, was
+decidedly better-looking, with pretty curly hair, and blue eyes with an
+appealing look in them; but Margaret fancied he looked a little sly; and
+straightway took herself to task for the unkind fancy. The little girl
+was Basil over again, save that the tow-coloured hair was put back with
+a round comb, and the gray eyes widely opened, instead of half shut,
+when she looked at any one. All three children were neatly dressed, and
+all looked as if they were not used to their clothes.
+
+"Well," said Mr. Montfort at last, after a long, silent look at each one
+in turn, "I am very glad to see you, children. I hope we are going to be
+good friends. Boys, I was a boy myself, just two or three years ago,--or
+it may be four,--so you can ask me about anything you want to know.
+Susan, I never was a girl, you see, but that need not make much
+difference. Your Cousin Margaret--oh, here _is_ your Cousin Margaret!
+She will be good to you, and--and in short, you are all very welcome to
+Fernley, and there is a swing in the garden, and the rest you can find
+out for yourselves."
+
+Margaret came forward, and shook hands with the boys, and kissed the
+little girl warmly. Evidently Susan D. was not used to being kissed, for
+she blushed, and her brothers giggled rather rudely, till they caught
+Mr. Montfort's eye, and stopped.
+
+"Young gentlemen," said Uncle John, with an emphasis which brought the
+blood to Basil's cheek, "dinner will be ready"--he looked at his
+watch--"in an hour. I daresay they would like something now, Margaret;
+crackers and cheese, gingerbread,--what? You'll find them something."
+Mr. Montfort nodded kindly, and strode away to his study. Margaret was
+left alone with the three strange children, feeling shyer than ever
+before in her life. The meeting with the three cousins of her own age,
+two years ago, was nothing to this.
+
+"Are you hungry, boys?" she asked.
+
+"Starving!" said Merton.
+
+"He isn't," said Susan D. "He's been eating all the way, ever since we
+left home. He's a greedy,--that's what he is." Then, scared at her own
+voice, she hung her head down, and put her finger in her mouth.
+
+"Oh, well," said Margaret, "I daresay you would all be hungry before
+dinner-time, so suppose we come into the pantry and see what we can
+find. Will you come with me, Susan, dear?" She held out her hand, but
+the little girl evaded it, and followed in the rear, holding her own
+hands behind her back.
+
+"Will you call me Cousin Margaret?" the girl went on. "And shall I call
+you Susie, or do you like Susan better?"
+
+Susan not replying, Basil replied for her. "Susan D. we call her; but
+Puppa calls her Sudden Death when she acts bad; she mostly does act
+bad."
+
+"Don't neither!" muttered Susan D., scowling.
+
+"Do teither!" retorted both brothers in a breath.
+
+"She ain't shy!" Basil went on. "She's sulky, that's all. Merton's shy,
+and I ain't. I'll tell you things, when you ask me; they won't, half the
+time."
+
+"Well, I haven't asked you anything, yet, have I?" said Margaret,
+smiling, and feeling more at ease with this boy, somehow, than with
+either of the others. "What can you tell me that is pleasant about
+them?"
+
+"That's so!" said Basil, and his lips parted suddenly in a smile that
+positively transfigured his plain face. "Well, Mert's the best boxer,
+and he can sing and draw. I'm the best runner, of course, 'count of my
+legs being long, you see." He held up a long, thin leg for Margaret's
+inspection. "Some fellows called me Spider once, and Susan D. scratched
+their faces for 'em. She's great at scratching, Susan D. is."
+
+"My dear!" said poor Margaret. "I thought you were going to tell me the
+pleasant things, Basil."
+
+"Ain't I?" said the boy, innocently. "She was standing up for me, you
+see. She always stands up for me; Mert is a sne---- well, what I was
+going to say, she's a pretty good runner, for a girl, and she can shin a
+rope too, better than any of us. Mert can hang on longest with his
+teeth."
+
+"What _do_ you mean, child?" cried Margaret, laughing. Basil flashed his
+brilliant smile on her again.
+
+"Tables," he explained. "Yes, please, crackers; and quite a lot of
+cheese, please."
+
+"Greedy Gobble!" interjected Merton.
+
+"Well, I like that!" said Basil. "Who ate my sandwich, when I was
+looking out of the window? I tell you what, I'd punch your head for two
+cents, young feller!"
+
+"Boys," said Margaret, decidedly, "I cannot have this! While you are
+with me, I expect you to behave decently."
+
+"Yes, ma'am!" said both boys, with ready cheerfulness; and Basil
+continued his explanation.
+
+"We see which can hang on to a table longest, don't you know, by your
+teeth. Did ever you?"
+
+"No, I certainly never did; and--I don't think you'd better try it here,
+Basil. It must be very hard on your teeth, besides ruining the table."
+
+"It ain't healthy for the table," Basil admitted. "You ought to see the
+tables at home! It makes like a little pattern round the edge,
+sometimes. Quite pretty, I think. Say, are you the boss here?"
+
+Seated on the pantry dresser, swinging his legs, the young gentleman
+seemed as much at home as if he had spent his life at Fernley. The two
+other children were eating hastily and furtively, as if they feared each
+bite might be their last. Basil crunched his crackers and nibbled his
+cheese with an air of perfect unconcern. "Are you the boss here?" he
+repeated.
+
+"Am I in authority, do you mean?" asked Margaret, who could not abide
+slang of any kind. "No, indeed, Basil. Your Uncle John is the head of
+the house, in every possible way. I hope you are all going to be very
+good and obedient. He is the kindest, best man in the whole world."
+
+"I think he's bully," said Basil. "I guess you're bully too, ain't you?
+And it's a bully place. Hi, Mert, there's a squirrel! Look at him
+running up that tree. My! Wish I had a pea-shooter!"
+
+"Bet you couldn't hit him if you had!" cried Merton, as all three
+children watched the squirrel with breathless interest.
+
+"Bet I could!" said Basil, contemptuously.
+
+"Guess he could hit it when you couldn't hit a barn in the next county!"
+cried Susan D. in a kind of small shriek; then she caught Margaret's
+eye, blushed furiously, and tried to get behind her bread and butter.
+
+"I say! can we go out in the garden?" cried Basil.
+
+"Yes, indeed, but wouldn't you like to come up and see your rooms first?
+Such pleasant rooms! I am sure you will like them."
+
+But none of the children cared to see the pleasant rooms. Receiving
+permission to play till they heard the dinner-bell, they fled suddenly,
+as if the constable were at their heels. Margaret saw their legs
+twinkling across the grass-plot. They were yelling like red Indians.
+Susan D.'s hat blew off at the third bound; Basil shied his cap into a
+bush with a joyous whoop, then snatched off his brother's and threw that
+after it. Merton grappled him with a shout, and they rolled over and
+over at the feet of their sister, who bent down and pummelled them both
+with might and main, shrieking with excitement. As Margaret gazed
+aghast, preparing to fly and interfere, she heard a quiet laugh behind
+her, and turning, saw Mr. Montfort looking over her shoulder.
+
+"Battle, Murder, and Sudden Death!" he said. "Separate them? On no
+account, my dear! They have been shut up for hours, and their muscles
+need stretching. Don't be alarmed, my child; I know this kind." Poor
+Margaret sighed. She did not know this kind.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE FIRST CONQUEST.
+
+
+When Margaret went to bed that night, she felt as if she had been
+whipped with rods. Head, heart, and back, all ached in sympathy. The
+children were in bed; that is, she had left them in bed; their staying
+there was another matter; however, all three were tired after their
+journey, and Uncle John thought the chances were that they would fall
+asleep before they had time to think of doing anything else. Among the
+three, the little girl was the one who oppressed Margaret with a sense
+of defeat, a sense of her own incompetence. She had not expected to
+understand the boys; she had never had any experience of boys; but she
+had expected to win the little girl to her, and make her a little
+friend, perhaps almost a sister. Susan D. received her advances with an
+elfish coldness that had something not human in it, Margaret thought.
+The child was like a changeling, in the old fairy stories. That evening,
+when bedtime came, Margaret went up with her to the pretty room, hoping
+for a pleasant time. She sat down and took the little girl on her knee.
+"Let us have a cuddle, dear!" she said; "put your head down on my
+shoulder, and I will sing you one of my own bedtime songs, that my nurse
+used to sing to me."
+
+Susan D. sat bold upright, not a yielding joint in all her body.
+
+"Don't you like songs?" asked Margaret, stroking the tow-coloured hair
+gently.
+
+"No!" said the child; and with the word she wriggled off Margaret's lap,
+and stood twisting her fingers awkwardly, and frowning at the floor.
+Margaret sighed.
+
+"Then we will undress and get to bed," she said, trying to speak
+lightly. "You must be very tired, little girl. Isn't that a pretty bed?
+Is your bed at home like this? Tell me about your room, won't you,
+Susie?"
+
+But Susan D. still twisted her fingers and frowned, and would not say a
+single word. She made no resistance, however, when Margaret helped her
+off with her clothes. "You are big enough to undress yourself, of
+course," the girl said, "but I will help you to-night, because you are
+tired, and you must feel strange, coming so far away from home. Poor
+little mite!" The child looked so small and slight, standing with her
+dress off, and her thin shoulders sticking out like wings, that Margaret
+felt a sudden thrill of compassion, and stooping, kissed the freckled
+cheek warmly. The colour came into the child's face, but she stood like
+a stock, never moving a muscle, never raising her eyes to take note of
+the pretty, tasteful arrangements to which Margaret had given such
+thought and pains. But the undressing went on, and presently she was in
+her little nightgown, with her hair unbraided and smoothly brushed. She
+might be pretty, Margaret decided, when she filled out a little, and had
+a pleasanter expression. She was so little! Surely there must be one
+more effort, this first night.
+
+"Shall I hear you say your prayers, dear?" asked Margaret, taking the
+child's two hands in hers. Susan D. shook her head resolutely.
+
+"No? You like better to say them by yourself? Then I will come back in a
+few minutes, and tuck you up in your little nest."
+
+The child gave no sign; and when Margaret came back, she was standing in
+the same spot, in the same position. She got into bed obediently, and
+made no resistance when Margaret tucked the bedclothes in, patted her
+shoulder, and gave her a last good-night kiss. She might as well have
+kissed the pillow for any response there was, but at least there had
+been no shrinking this time. "Good night, Susan D.," said Margaret,
+cheerfully, pausing at the door. "Good night, dear! Susan, I think you
+must answer when you are spoken to."
+
+"Good night!" said Susan D. Margaret shut the door softly and went away.
+As she passed along the corridor that ran round the hall, something
+struck her forehead lightly. She looked up, and narrowly escaped getting
+a fish-hook in her eye. Merton looked over the banisters, and smiled
+appealingly. "I was fishin'," he said. "There's fish-lines in the
+drawers of the sofa. I guess I 'most caught a whale, didn't I?"
+
+"Merton, you must go to bed at once!" said Margaret. "How long have you
+been standing there in your nightgown? You might catch your death." (It
+had been one of old Katy's maxims that if you stood about in your
+nightgown for however short a time, you inevitably got your death.
+Margaret had never doubted it till this moment.) "I am coming up now to
+tuck you both up!" she added, with a happy inspiration.
+
+There was a hasty scuffle, then a rush, accompanied by smothered
+squeals. When Margaret reached the nursery, both boys were in bed.
+Merton's blue eyes were wide open, and fixed on her with mournful
+earnestness; Basil was asleep, the clothes tucked in well under his
+chin. He lay on his back, his mouth slightly opened; he was snoring
+gently, but unobtrusively. Poor child! no doubt he was tired enough. But
+how had Merton managed to make so _much_ noise?
+
+Margaret looked around her, and Merton's gaze grew more intense. His own
+clothes lay in a heap on the floor, but where were his brother's?
+And--and what was that, smoothly folded over the back of a chair? A
+clean nightgown?
+
+But when Merton saw his cousin's eyes fix on the nightgown, he exploded
+in a bubbling laugh. "He--he ain't undressed at all!" he cried,
+gleefully. "He never! he's got his boots on, and every single--" The
+speech got no further. There was a flying whirl of blankets, a leap, and
+Basil was on his brother's chest, pounding him with right good will.
+"You sneak!" he cried. "I'll teach you--"
+
+There was no time to think; the child would be killed before her eyes.
+Margaret took a firm hold on Basil's collar, and dragged him off by main
+strength, he still clawing the air. Unconsciously, she gave him a hearty
+shake before she let go; the boy staggered back a few paces; who would
+have thought that Margaret had such strength in her slender wrists? The
+crisis over, she panted, and felt faint for an instant; Basil, after a
+moment of bewilderment, looked at her, and the smile broke all over his
+face, a moment before black with rage.
+
+"Got me that time, didn't you?" he said, simply. "He's a mean sneak,
+Mert is. I'll serve him out to-morrow, don't you be afraid!"
+
+"Basil, what does this mean?" asked Margaret, severely. "Why are you not
+in bed?" Then as Basil sent an eloquent glance at the pillow where his
+head had been lying so quietly, she added, "Why are you not undressed, I
+mean? I am afraid you have been very naughty, both of you, boys."
+
+"Well, you see," said Basil, apologetically, "there was all kinds of
+things in the drawers, and then I got on the rocking-horse, and it
+wasn't but just a minute before you came up. I say, isn't this a bully
+room, Cousin Margaret? I think Uncle John was awfully good to give us
+such a room as this. Why doesn't he sleep here himself? Bet I would, if
+I owned the house. I say, do those marbles belong to him?"
+
+"I suppose so," said Margaret, smiling in spite of herself; "yes, I am
+sure they were his. But now, Basil,--"
+
+"Well, see here!" cried the boy, excitedly. "Because, you see, they're
+worth a lot, some of 'em. Why, there's agates,--why, they are perfect
+beauties! Just look!" He ran towards the sofa, but Margaret stopped him
+resolutely.
+
+"To-morrow, Basil!" she said. "To-morrow you shall show me everything
+you like; but now you must go to bed, this very moment. I am pretty
+tired, but I shall sit outside on the landing, till you tell me that you
+are in bed; then I shall come in and make sure for myself, and tuck you
+in."
+
+Basil illuminated the room again. "Will you?" he cried. "Honest, will
+you tuck us in?"
+
+Margaret nodded, wondering, and withdrew to the landing, where she sat
+with her head in her hands, saying to herself, "Let nothing disturb
+thee, nothing affright thee--"
+
+Basil spoke through the keyhole. "Cousin Margaret!"
+
+"Yes, Basil; are you ready so soon?"
+
+"No, not quite. I wanted to say,--do you think you ought to spank me?"
+
+"No, certainly not, my dear!"
+
+"'Cause you can, if you think you'd better."
+
+"No, no, Basil; only do get to bed, like a good boy!"
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+A sudden plunge was heard, a thump, and the agonised shriek of a
+suffering bedstead. "Now I'm in bed!" said Basil. Margaret picked up the
+two heaps of clothing, and laid them neatly on two chairs. "I want you
+to do this yourselves after this," she explained. "It isn't nice to
+leave your things on the floor."
+
+"All right!" "We will!" said both boys; and then they joined in a
+fervent appeal to her not to turn their knickerbockers upside down.
+"'Cause all the things in your pockets spill out," said Merton.
+
+"And then you get 'em mixed, and can't tell what belongs where," cried
+Basil. "Thank you, Cousin Margaret; that's bully!"
+
+Margaret tucked Merton in first; he looked so dimpled and pretty, she
+was tempted to offer a caress, but the recollection of Susan D. kept
+her from it. Turning away, she came to Basil's bed. The boy watched her
+intently as she smoothed the bedclothes with practised hand, and tucked
+them in exactly right, not too tight and not too loose. There are
+several ways of tucking a person into bed. With a pleasant "Good night!"
+she was about to leave him, but something in the boy's face held her.
+"Is there anything you want, my dear?" she asked, gently. Basil looked
+at her; then turned his head away. "Mother used to put me to bed!" he
+muttered, so low that Margaret could hardly hear. She did hear, however;
+and instantly stooping over the boy, she kissed him warmly. Thank
+Heaven, here was one who did want to be loved. "Dear Basil," she said,
+tenderly. "Dear boy, you shall tell me all about her some day. Will
+you?" The boy nodded; his eyes were eloquent, but he did not speak. Her
+heart still warm, Margaret looked across at Merton; but Basil plucked
+her gown and whispered, "He--doesn't know. He can't remember her.
+Perhaps you can teach him--"
+
+Margaret nodded, kissed the boy's white forehead once more, and went
+away with a lighter heart than she had brought with her. On the floor
+below she paused to listen at Susan's door; all was quiet there. Cousin
+Sophronia was asleep, too, no doubt; Margaret had spent part of the
+evening with her, reading, and listening to her doleful prophecies of
+the miseries entailed by the coming of "these dreadful children!" It was
+nearly her own bedtime, too, for between Cousin Sophronia and the
+children the evening had slipped away all too fast. But surely she might
+have a few minutes of peace and joy? The library door stood open; from
+it there came a stream of cheerful light, and the perfume of a Manila
+cigar. Oh, good! Uncle John had not gone to his study; he was waiting
+for her. As she passed Miss Sophronia's door, Margaret fancied she heard
+a call; but she was not sure, and for once she was rebellious. She flew
+down-stairs, and ran into the library.
+
+The pleasant room lay in shade, save for the bright gleam of the
+reading-lamp. Among the books which lined the walls from floor to
+ceiling, the gilded backs of the smaller volumes caught the light and
+sent it back in soft, broken twinklings; but the great brown folios on
+the lower shelves were half lost in a comfortable duskiness. The crimson
+curtains were drawn before the open windows, and the evening wind waved
+them lightly now and then, sending new shadows to chase the old ones
+along the walls and ceiling. The thick old Turkey carpet held every
+possible shade of soft, faded richness, and the brown leather armchairs
+looked as if they had been sat in by generations of book-loving
+Montforts, as indeed they had. And amid all this sober comfort, by the
+great library table with its orderly litter of magazines and new books,
+sat Mr. John Montfort, book in hand and cigar in mouth, a breathing
+statue of Ease, in a brown velvet smoking-jacket. He looked up, and,
+seeing Margaret in the doorway, laid down his book, and held out his
+hand with a gesture of welcome. "Well, my girl," he said, "come and tell
+me all about it!"
+
+With a great sigh of relief, Margaret dropped on the rug at her uncle's
+feet, and laid her tired head on his knee. "Uncle John!" she said. "Oh,
+Uncle John!" That seemed to be all she wanted to say; she shut her eyes,
+and gave herself up to the comfort which only comes with rest after
+fatigue.
+
+Mr. Montfort stroked her hair gently, with a touch as light as a
+woman's. Then he took up his book again, and began to read aloud. It was
+a curious old book, bound in black leather, with great silver clasps.
+
+        "In that isle is a dead sea or lake, that has
+        no bottom; and if any thing falls into it, it
+        will never come up again. In that lake grow
+        reeds, which they call Thaby, that are thirty
+        fathoms long; and of these reeds they make fair
+        houses. And there are other reeds, not so long,
+        that grow near the land, and have roots full a
+        quarter of a furlong long or more, at the knots
+        of which roots precious stones are found that
+        have great virtues; for he who carries any of
+        them upon him may not be hurt by iron or steel;
+        and therefore they who have those stones on
+        them fight very boldly both by sea and land;
+        and therefore, when their enemies are aware of
+        this, they shoot at them darts without iron or
+        steel, and so hurt and slay them. And also of
+        those reeds they make houses and ships and
+        other things, as we here make houses and ships
+        of oak, or of any other tree. And let no man
+        think I am joking, for I have seen these reeds
+        with my own eyes."
+
+The words flowed on and on; Margaret felt her troubles smoothing
+themselves out, melting away. "Who is this pleasant person?" she asked,
+without raising her head.
+
+"Sir John Mandeville," said her uncle. "Rest a bit still, and we'll go
+and see the Chan of Cathay with him. Here we are!" He turned a page or
+two, and read again:
+
+        "The emperor has his table alone by himself,
+        which is of gold and precious stones; or of
+        crystal, bordered with gold and full of
+        precious stones; or of amethysts, or of lignum
+        aloes, that comes out of Paradise; or of ivory
+        bound or bordered with gold. And under the
+        emperor's table sit four clerks, who write all
+        that the emperor says, be it good or evil; for
+        all that he says must be held good; for he may
+        not change his word nor revoke it."
+
+"Oh, but I shouldn't like that, Uncle John!" cried Margaret. "I
+shouldn't like that at all! Should you?"
+
+"I don't think it would be agreeable," Mr. Montfort admitted. "But when
+we come to anything we don't like, we can suppose that Sir John
+was--shall we call it embroidering? And how does my girl feel now? Are
+the wrinkles smoothing out at all?"
+
+"All smooth!" replied the girl. "All gone, Uncle John. I was only a
+little tired; and--Uncle John--"
+
+"Yes, dear child."
+
+"You must expect that I shall do a great many wrong things, at first. I
+am very ignorant, and--well, not very old, perhaps. If only I can make
+the children love me!"
+
+"They'd better love you," said Uncle John. "If they don't, they'll get
+the stick. But don't fret, Margaret; I am not going to fret, and I shall
+not let you do it. The little girl seems slightly abnormal, at first
+sight; but the boys--"
+
+"Yes, Uncle John?" and Margaret raised her head and looked eagerly at
+her uncle, hoping for some light that would make all clear to her. "The
+boys?"
+
+"Why, the boys are just boys, my dear; nothing in the world but plain
+boys. Two of 'em instead of four,--thank your stars that you are in
+this generation instead of the last, my love; and now take this little
+head off to bed, and don't let another anxious thought come into it.
+Good night, my child."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+A NEWCOMER.
+
+
+"If you please, Miss Margaret, the lady would like to speak to you, in
+her room."
+
+"Miss Montfort?" (Elizabeth never would call Miss Sophronia Miss
+Montfort.) "Yes, Elizabeth, I will be up in a moment; tell her, please."
+
+Hastily pinning her collar,--it was near breakfast-time, and she had
+been longer than usual in dressing,--Margaret ran up to the Blue Room.
+Miss Sophronia, in curl-papers and a long, yellow wrapper, was standing
+near the window, apparently rigid with horror.
+
+"What is it, Cousin Sophronia? What can I do for you?"
+
+"Margaret, I told you,--I warned you. I warned John Montfort. No one can
+say that I neglected my duty in this respect; my conscience is clear.
+Now look,--I desire you, look out of that window, and tell me what you
+think."
+
+Margaret looked. At first she saw nothing but the clear glass, and,
+beyond it, the blue sky and waving trees. But, looking again, she became
+aware of two objects dangling over the upper part of the pane; a black
+object, and a white object; two small legs, one bare, the other in
+stocking and shoe. The legs were swinging back and forth, keeping time
+to a clear and lively whistle, and now and then one of them gave a
+little kick, as of pure content.
+
+"Do you see?" demanded Miss Sophronia, in tragic tone.
+
+"Yes, Cousin Sophronia, I see. I can't think--but I'll run up at once
+and see what it means, and bring the child down. I--" Margaret waited to
+say no more, but flew up-stairs, only pausing to cast a hasty glance
+into Susan D.'s room, the door of which stood open. The room was empty;
+so, when she reached the top of the stairs, was the nursery. She entered
+a small room that was used as a storeroom; its one window looked
+directly on the roof, and this window stood wide open. Running to look
+out, Margaret saw Susan D., seated astride of a gable, dangling her legs
+as aforesaid, and apparently enjoying herself immensely. The whistle
+stopped when she saw her cousin, and the cheerful look gave place to one
+of sullenness.
+
+"Susan, my dear child, what are you doing here?"
+
+"Looking for my other stocking," replied the child.
+
+"Your stocking?"
+
+"Yes. I dropped it out of the window, and I came up here to look for
+it."
+
+"She thought she could see better!" explained Basil, appearing suddenly
+from behind the chimney. "I--good morning, Cousin Margaret. I slept very
+well, thank you."
+
+"So did I!" chimed in Susan D., with suspicious readiness. "I slept very
+well. Good morning, Cousin Margaret, thank you!"
+
+"That isn't right," said Basil, as Margaret looked in bewilderment from
+one to the other; "you are such a stupid, Susan D. You see," he added,
+turning to Margaret, "I've been telling her that she's got to have
+better manners, and speak when she's spoken to; and, if she behaves
+pretty well, she's going to get some hard stamps she wants; and if she
+doesn't--"
+
+"I am," said Susan D. "Amn't I, Cousin Margaret?"
+
+It was the first time the child had addressed Margaret directly, and the
+latter hastened to assure her that her morning greeting would do very
+well indeed. "But, dear children," she cried, "I cannot let you stay
+here. Indeed, you ought never to have come up; I don't believe Uncle
+John would like to have you on the roof at all; and it is
+breakfast-time, and Cousin Sophronia has been a good deal frightened,
+Susie, at seeing your legs dangling over her window in this fashion."
+
+"We aren't hurting the old roof!" cried boy and girl, in eager
+self-defence.
+
+"Oh, my dears! It isn't the roof, it's your precious necks, that you
+might be breaking at this moment. How are you going to get back? Basil,
+it makes me dizzy to look at you."
+
+"Then I wouldn't look," said Basil, cheerfully. "I'm all right, Cousin
+Margaret, just truly I am. Why, I just live on roofs, every chance I
+get. And this is a bully roof to climb on."
+
+Margaret covered her eyes with her hands, as the boy came tripping along
+the ridge-pole towards her; but the next moment she put the hands down
+resolutely. "Let me help you!" she said. "Susan, take my hand, dear, and
+let me help you in."
+
+But Susan D. needed no helping hand; she scrambled up the slope of the
+roof like a squirrel, and wriggled in at the window before Margaret
+could lay hands on her. "I'm all right!" she said, shyly. "I didn't find
+my stocking, though. I'll get another pair." But Margaret soon found the
+stocking, and in due time could report to Cousin Sophronia that the
+children were both safe on the ground, and more or less ready for
+breakfast. Merton had not shared in the roof expedition; he had climbed
+the great chestnut-tree instead, and appeared at breakfast with most of
+the buttons off his jacket, and a large barn-door tear in his
+knickerbockers.
+
+Miss Sophronia greeted the children with firmness. "How do you do, my
+dears?" she said. "I am your Cousin Sophronia, and I shall take the
+place of a mamma to you while you are here. If you do as I tell you, we
+shall get on very well, I dare say. You are Basil? Yes, you look like
+your Uncle Reuben. You remember Reuben, John? What a troublesome boy he
+was, to be sure! And this is Merton. H'm! Yes! The image of his father.
+Anthony; to be sure! And what is your name, child? Susan D.? Ah, yes!
+For your Aunt Susan, of course. And are you a good girl, Susan D.?"
+
+Susan D. hung her head, and looked defiant.
+
+"Always answer when you are spoken to," said the lady, with mild
+severity. "I'm afraid your father has let you run wild; but we will
+alter all that. Little boy--Merton, I mean, you are taking too much
+sugar on your porridge. Too much sugar is very bad for children. Hand me
+the bowl, if you please. I am obliged to take a good deal of sugar--the
+doctor's orders! There are one--two--three buttons off your jacket. This
+will never do!"
+
+"I scraped 'em off, shinning up the tree," said Merton, sadly. "I barked
+all my shins, too; but I found the squirrel's nest."
+
+"Oh, Merton, you didn't meddle with it?" cried Margaret. "That little
+squirrel is so tame, I should be very sorry to have him teased. You
+didn't tease him, did you, dear?"
+
+Merton looked injured. "I just put my hand into his old hole, and he bit
+me, nasty thing! I'll kill him, first chance I get."
+
+"You will do nothing of the kind," said Mr. Montfort, quietly. "You will
+let the squirrel alone, Merton, or I shall have to stop the climbing
+altogether. You understand?"
+
+"Yes, sir," said Merton. "Ow! you stop that, now!"
+
+"Did you speak to me, sir?" inquired Mr. Montfort, politely.
+
+"Well, he kicked my sore shin," growled Merton, glaring savagely at
+Basil. Basil chuckled gleefully. Mr. Montfort looked from one to the
+other.
+
+"Kick each other as much as you like out-of-doors," he said. "Here, you
+can either behave yourselves or leave the table. Take your choice." He
+spoke very quietly, and went on with his letter, without another glance
+at the boys; indeed, no second glance was needed, for the children
+behaved remarkably well through the rest of breakfast.
+
+That morning was a trying time for Margaret. She tried hard to remember
+her uncle's parting words, as he drove away: "Let them run, these first
+few days, and don't worry; above all, don't worry!"
+
+[Illustration: "MERTON WAS TEASING CHIQUITO."]
+
+Yes, but how could she help worrying? If it had been only running! But
+these children never seemed content to stay on their feet for ten
+minutes together. Now they were turning somersaults round and round the
+grass-plot, till her head grew dizzy, and Cousin Sophronia screamed
+from the window that they would all be dead of apoplexy in less than ten
+minutes. Now they were hanging by their heels from the lower branches of
+the horse-chestnut tree, daring each other to turn a somersault in the
+air and so descend. Now Merton was teasing Chiquito, and getting his
+finger bitten, and howling, while Basil jeered at him, and wanted to
+know whether a sixty-year-old bird was likely to stand "sauce" from a
+ten-year-old monkey. Now Susan D. had caught her frock on a bramble, and
+torn a long, jagged rent across the front breadth, that filled Margaret
+with despair. Poor Susan D.! By afternoon, Miss Sophronia had taken her
+into custody, and marched her off to her own room, to stay there till
+bedtime.
+
+"The child was rebellious, my dear Margaret; positively disrespectful. A
+little discipline, my love, is what that child needs. It is my duty to
+give it to her, and I shall do my duty cheerfully. At your age, it is
+not to be expected that you should know anything about children. Leave
+all to me, and you will be surprised at the result. A firm rein for a
+few weeks,--I shall manage her, never fear!"
+
+Margaret was humble-minded, and fully conscious of her total lack of
+experience; still, she could not feel that a system of repression was
+the one most likely to succeed with Susan D.
+
+"If we could win the child's affection," she began, timidly. Miss
+Sophronia pounced upon her.
+
+"My love, you naturally think so! Believe me, I know what I am talking
+about. I have practically brought up William's children; the result is
+astonishing, everybody says so." (Everybody did, but their astonishment
+was hardly what the good lady fancied it.) "Trust,--dearest Margaret,
+simply confide absolutely in me! So important, I always say, for the
+young to have entire confidence in their elders."
+
+Margaret was thankful when dinner was over, and her cousin gone to take
+her afternoon nap. Basil was in a lowering mood, the result of his
+sister's imprisonment. He would do nothing but rage against Cousin
+Sophronia, so Margaret was finally obliged to send him away, and sit
+down with a sigh to her work, alone.
+
+It was very pleasant and peaceful on the verandah. The garden was hot
+and sunny at this hour, but here the shade lay cool and grateful, and
+Margaret felt the silence like balm on her fretted spirit. It was all
+wrong that she should be so fretted; she argued with herself, scolded,
+tried to bring herself to a better frame of mind; but nature was too
+strong for her, and the best she could do was to resolve that she would
+try, and keep on trying, her very best; and that Uncle John should not
+know how worried she was. That, surely, she could manage: to keep a
+smiling face when he was at home, and to made light of all these hourly
+pin-pricks that seemed to her sensitive nature like sword-thrusts.
+
+So quiet! Only the sound of the soft wind in the great chestnut-trees,
+and the clear notes of a bird in the upper branches. A rose-breasted
+grosbeak! Her uncle had been teaching her something about birds, and she
+knew this beautiful creature, and loved to watch him as he hovered
+about the nest where his good wife sat. His song was almost like the
+oriole's, Margaret thought. She laid down her embroidery, and watched
+the flashes of crimson appear and disappear. What a wonderful, beautiful
+thing! How good to live in the green country, where lovely sights and
+sounds were one's own, all day long. Why should one let oneself be
+distressed, even if things did not go just to one's mind?
+
+A soft cloud seemed to be stealing over her spirit; it was not sleep,
+but just a waking dream, of peace and beauty, and the love of all lovely
+things in the green and blossoming world, where life floated by to the
+music of birds,--
+
+"I beg your pardon, Miss Margaret; were you asleep, miss?"
+
+Margaret sat upright, and looked a little severe. It would never do even
+to look as if she had been asleep, in the middle of the afternoon. "No,
+Elizabeth," she said. "What is wanted?"
+
+"Only miss, Frances was wishful to know whether she should keep Master
+Merton's dinner any longer, or whether she'd cook something fresh for
+him along with his supper."
+
+No more dreaming for Margaret! She sprang to her feet, suddenly
+conscious of the fact that Merton had not been seen for several hours.
+It could not have been more than eleven o'clock when he was in her room;
+now-- "What time is it, Elizabeth?"
+
+"Going on five, Miss Margaret. Mr. Montfort'll soon be here, miss; maybe
+Master Merton might have gone to meet him."
+
+Margaret shook her head; that did not seem at all likely. She hailed
+Basil, who came sauntering up the gravel walk, his brow still clouded,
+kicking the pebbles before him.
+
+"Oh, Basil, have you seen Merton? He has not been in the house since
+this morning, and I am anxious about him."
+
+Basil shrugged his shoulders. "Run away, most likely!" he said,
+carelessly. "He's always running away, Mert is."
+
+"Always running away! But where could he run to, Basil? He does not know
+his way about here. He surely would not run away in a strange place."
+
+Basil smiled superior. "That's just why he'd do it. He likes to find out
+new places; we both do. I wouldn't leave Susan D., or I'd have gone,
+too, bet I would. No use staying here, to be bossed round."
+
+"Oh, Basil, don't talk so, but help me, like a dear boy, to find
+Merton."
+
+Basil stood uncertain. He raised a threatening glance towards Miss
+Sophronia's window; but Margaret was beside him in a moment. "Basil, to
+please me!" she said. She laid her hand on the boy's shoulder. He stood
+still, and Margaret had a moment of painful doubt; but the next instant
+he raised his face to her with his own enchanting smile. "All right!" he
+said. "You are all right, Cousin Margaret, whatever other folks are, and
+I'll help you every single bit I can."
+
+"That's my good, helpful boy!" said Margaret, heartily. "Oh, Basil, you
+and I together can do a great deal, but alone I feel rather helpless.
+You shall be my little--no, not little--you shall be my brother, and
+tell me how to manage Merton and Susan, and make them love me. But the
+first thing is to find Merton. What can have become of the child? Where
+shall we look for him?"
+
+"I think perhaps down by the bog," said Basil, looking very important
+and pleased with his new responsibility. "He said he was going down
+there, first chance he got. I meant to go, too, but I won't if you don't
+want me to, Cousin Margaret. There's a bully--"
+
+"Basil!"
+
+"There's a--a superb workman down there; do you know him, Cousin
+Margaret? I guess he's the boss, or something. He wears blue overalls
+and a blue jumper, and he can vault--oh my! how that fellow can vault!"
+
+"Basil, I don't feel at all sure that your uncle would wish you to be
+talking with strange workmen. At any rate, I think you ought to ask
+leave, don't you?"
+
+"Maybe I ought!" said Basil, cheerfully. "But it's too late now, you
+see, 'cause I have talked to him, quite lots, and he's awfully jolly.
+Oh, Jonah! I do believe there he is now; and--Cousin Margaret! I do
+believe he's got Mert with him! Look!"
+
+Margaret looked. A man was coming across the field that lay beyond the
+garden wall; a workingman, from his blue overalls and jumper; a young
+man, from the way he moved, and from his light, springy step. Margaret
+could not see his face, but his hair was red; she could see that over
+the burden that he carried in his arms.
+
+Coming nearer, this burden was seen to be a child. A chimney-sweeper?
+No, for chimney-sweepers are not necessarily wet; do not drip black mud
+from head to foot; do not run streams of black bog water.
+
+"Merton!" cried poor Margaret, who knew well the look of that mud and
+water. "Oh, what has happened? Is--is he hurt?" she cried out, running
+towards the wall.
+
+The young workman raised a cheerful face, streaked with black, and
+presenting the appearance of a light-hearted savage in trim for a
+funeral.
+
+"Not a bit hurt!" he called in return. "All right, only wet, and a
+trifle muddy. Little chap's had a bath, that's all. Hope you haven't
+been anxious about him."
+
+"Oh, yes, I have been anxious--thank you! You are sure--he has not been
+in danger?"
+
+"Well," the stranger admitted, "just as well I was there, perhaps. It
+isn't a safe place for children, you see. How are you now, old chap? He
+was a bit dizzy when I picked him up, you see."
+
+Merton lifted his black head, and looked ruefully at Margaret.
+
+"You told me not to go!" he said. "I won't go again."
+
+"Well, I guess you won't!" cried Basil, excitedly. "Why, you've been in
+all over; it's all up to your chin, and some of it's on the back of your
+head. I say, you must--"
+
+The young man made him a sign quickly. "He's all right!" he said. "Mud
+baths extremely hygienic; recommended by the medical fraternity;
+a--where did you say I should put him?"
+
+"Oh, I beg your pardon!" cried Margaret. "I am letting you hold him all
+this time, and you are getting all wet, too."
+
+"No consequence, not the least in the world. Besides,--past participle
+perhaps more appropriate than present."
+
+Margaret led the way to the verandah, and the stranger finally deposited
+his burden on the steps. Looking down at himself, he seemed for the
+first time aware of his singular appearance, for he blushed, and,
+lifting his cap, was turning away with a muttered apology, in which the
+word "clothes" was the only word Margaret could hear.
+
+"Oh!" she cried, "you are not going yet! I--I have not thanked you! You
+have saved the child's life, I know you have. I--I have seen something
+of that bog," she shuddered. "Mr. Montfort will want to see you, and
+thank you himself. Do at least tell me your name, so that we may know
+who it is that has done us this great service."
+
+But here the young man caught sight of his face, reflected in a
+window-pane, and lost the last vestige of self-possession. "If--if
+you'll excuse me," he cried, "I think I'll go before Mr. Montfort comes.
+The costume of a Mohawk on the war-path--effective, but unusual;
+a--call to-morrow if I may, to see if the little chap is all right. Mr.
+Montfort kindly asked me--good day!"
+
+"But you haven't told her your name!" Basil shouted after him.
+
+"Oh! Of course!--a--Merryweather! Gerald Merryweather."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+"I MUST HELP MYSELF."
+
+
+        "DEAR MARGARET:
+
+        "I find a telegram here which obliges me to run
+        on to Philadelphia at once. I may be away all
+        the week; do as well as you can, dear child,
+        and don't let B., M., and S. D. tear you to
+        pieces. I forgot to tell you that the young man
+        in charge of the bog-draining turns out to be
+        the son of an old friend of mine, Miles
+        Merryweather. I asked him to come up to the
+        house; if he should come while I am away, you
+        will be good to him. I will let you know by
+        telegraph when to expect me.
+
+                "Always affectionately yours,
+                                    "JOHN MONTFORT."
+
+Margaret read this brief letter with a sinking heart. How was she to
+keep up without Uncle John? How was she to cope with all the
+difficulties that beset her path like sharp-thorned briers? If she had
+but Aunt Faith--if she had but some one to turn to! She had tried to
+take counsel with Mrs. Peyton, but the beautiful woman was still, at
+fifty, a spoiled child, far younger in many ways than Margaret herself;
+she would only laugh, and advise her to get rid of Miss Sophronia by
+some trick, or practical joke.
+
+"Freeze her out, my dear! Get rid of her, somehow! That is all the
+advice I can give you. And bring the young barbarians to see me; I am
+sure they will amuse me."
+
+Margaret had just been acting on this last request. She had taken the
+two boys to see the invalid, and had left them there now, coming away
+with a sore and angry heart. Mrs. Peyton had been drawing the children
+out, laughing at their remarks about their cousin, and paying no regard
+to Margaret's entreaties. At length Margaret had simply come away, with
+no more than a brief "Good afternoon!" feeling that she could not trust
+herself to say more. Emily Peyton only laughed; she had full confidence
+in her charm, and thought she could bring back her puritanical little
+friend whenever she chose to smile in a particular way; meanwhile, the
+children were a new toy, and amused her.
+
+But Margaret felt that she had had almost enough of Mrs. Peyton. Beauty
+was a great deal, charm and grace were a great deal more; but they did
+not take the place of heart. No, there was no one to help her! Well,
+then she must help herself, that was all!
+
+She stood still, her mind full of this new thought. She was eighteen
+years old; she was well and strong, and possessed of average
+intelligence. "Look here!" she said suddenly, aloud. "If you cannot
+manage those children, why, I am ashamed of you. Do you hear?"
+
+The other self, the timid one, did hear, and took heart. The girl felt
+new strength coming to her. The world had changed, somehow; the
+giants,--were they only windmills, after all? Up, lance, and at them!
+
+In this changed mood she went on, humming a little song to herself. As
+she drew near the wood that skirted the bog, the song was answered by
+another, trolled in a cheerful bass voice:
+
+        "The lady was pleased for to see him so bold;
+         She gave him her glove that was flowered with gold;
+         She said she had found it while walking around,
+         As she was a-hunting with her dog and her gun."
+
+The "blue boy," as she mentally called him, came dancing out of the
+wood, throwing up his cap, and singing as he came. At sight of Margaret
+he paused, in some confusion, cap in hand.
+
+"I--I beg your pardon," he said. "I trust I did not disturb you with my
+carol? There isn't generally any one here, you know; I get rather to
+feel as if it all belonged to me. I hope the little chap is all right
+to-day, Miss--Is it Miss Montfort?"
+
+"Oh, yes! Certainly!" said Margaret, blushing in her turn. "I ought to
+have said, of course--yes, thank you, Mr. Merryweather, Merton is quite
+well to-day; and I really think he has had a lesson, for he has not run
+away since, and it is two or three days ago. I--my uncle has been
+suddenly called away on business, but he asked me to say--that is, we
+shall be very glad to see you at the house any day; Miss Montfort, his
+cousin,--my uncle's cousin,--is there with me and the children."
+
+"Thanks awfully," murmured Gerald. "I'd like to come ever so much, some
+day; but I keep all in a mess so--" he glanced down ruefully at his blue
+clothes, and finding them quite respectably clean, brightened visibly.
+"My father was at school with Mr. Montfort; Miles Merryweather, perhaps
+he told you, Miss Montfort?"
+
+"Yes, he told me. I--I always think Uncle John must have been such a
+delightful boy. I am sure they must have had good times together."
+
+"So was the Pater, no end; I mean, my father was an agreeable youth
+also." Gerald stopped short, and glanced sidelong at the young girl. He
+was well used to girls, having sisters and cousins; but they were used
+to him, too, and he somehow felt that this sweet, serious-looking maiden
+was not accustomed to young men, and that he must, as he silently put it
+to himself, "consider the prudent P, and the quaintly quiggling Q."
+
+"And Uncle John must have been a brilliant scholar!" Margaret went on,
+warming to her subject. She had never, as it happened, walked and talked
+with a lad before in her quiet life; she did not know quite how to do
+it, but so long as she talked about Uncle John, she could not go wrong.
+"He knows so much,--so much that he must have learned early, because it
+is so a part of him. Wasn't he head of his class most of the time? He
+never will talk about it, but I am sure he must have been."
+
+"I am not so sure about that," Gerald admitted; "I know he was the best
+wrestler, and that he and my father were generally neck and neck in all
+the running races. He was a better high kick, because his legs were
+longer, don't you know, but the Pater was ahead in boxing."
+
+Margaret was bewildered. Was this scholarship? Was this the record that
+brilliant boys left behind them? She gave a little sigh; the mention of
+long legs brought her back to Basil again. Dear Basil! he had only one
+pair of knickerbockers left that was fit to be seen. She ought to be
+mending the corduroys this moment, in case he should come home all in
+pieces, as he was apt to do.
+
+"Have you any little brothers, Mr. Merryweather?" she asked, following
+the thread of her thought.
+
+"One; Willy. That is, he's not so very little now, but he's a good bit
+younger than Phil and I; Phil is my twin. Willy--oh, I suppose he must
+be fourteen, or somewhere about there, to a field or two."
+
+"Basil is twelve," said Margaret, thoughtfully. "And does he--or did he,
+two years ago,--I suppose a boy develops very quickly,--did he want to
+be climbing and jumping and running _all_ the time?"
+
+"Let me see!" said Gerald, gravely. "Why--yes, I should say so, Miss
+Montfort. Of course he stops now and then to eat; and then there's the
+time that he's asleep, you know; you have to take out that. But
+otherwise,--yes, I should say you had described Willy's existence pretty
+well."
+
+"And climbing on roofs?" Margaret went on. "And tumbling into bogs, and
+turning somersaults? What _can_ be the pleasure of turning oneself
+wrong side up and getting the blood into one's head?"
+
+Margaret stopped suddenly, and the colour rushed into her face; no need
+of somersaults in her case. For had not this young man been turning
+somersaults the first time she saw him? And turning them in the same
+senseless way, just for the joy of it, apparently? She glanced at him,
+and he was blushing too; but he met her look of distress with one so
+comic in its quizzical appeal, that she laughed in spite of herself.
+
+"I love to turn somersaults!" he murmured. "'Twas the charm of my
+chirping childhood; it is now the solace of my age. Don't be severe,
+Miss Montfort. I turn them now, sometimes; I will not deceive you."
+
+"Oh! oh, yes, I know!" said Margaret, timidly, but still laughing in
+spite of herself. "I--I saw you the other day, Mr. Merryweather. I
+thought--you seemed to be enjoying yourself very much."
+
+"No! Did you, though?" cried Gerald. "I say! Where was it? I never meant
+to do it when people were round. I'm awfully sorry."
+
+"Oh, no!" said Margaret, confused. "Why shouldn't you? It--it was by the
+edge of the bog. I had come round that way, and you were leaping with a
+pole about the bog, and I--stayed to watch you. I hope you don't mind;"
+this foolish girl was blushing again furiously, which was most
+unnecessary; "and--I thought you must be a foreigner; I don't know why.
+And--and then you came out, and turned a somersault, and--I wondered
+why, that was all. You see, I never had a brother, and I have never
+known any boys in all my life till now. I don't mean that you are a boy,
+of course!"
+
+"Oh, but I _am_!" cried Gerald. "What else am I but a boy? I wish they
+could hear you at home. Why, I'm just Jerry, you know, and--and I've
+always been that kind of boy, I'm afraid; just like Willy, only a good
+deal worse. And now--well, I've been through college, and now I'm in the
+School of Mines, and I'm twenty-one, and all that, but I can't seem to
+make myself feel any older, don't you know. I don't know what's going to
+become of me. Hilda says I won't grow up till I fall--oh! you don't
+know Hilda, do you, Miss Montfort?"
+
+"Hilda?" repeated Margaret. "I only know Hilda in the 'Marble Faun.'"
+
+"Hildegarde Merryweather; Hildegarde Grahame she used to be. I thought
+you might possibly have--well, she's my aunt according to the flesh. I
+wish you did know her!"
+
+"Your aunt? Is she--is she about Uncle John's age? I know so few people,
+you see. I have lived a very quiet life."
+
+"Oh, no! She--well, I suppose she's a little older than you, but not
+very much. She married Roger, don't you know. He's my half-uncle all
+right, but he's ever so many years younger than the Pater, nearer our
+age, you might almost say; and Hildegarde and the girls, my sisters,--I
+say! I wish you knew them all, Miss Montfort."
+
+"I wish I did," said Margaret, simply. "There are no girls of my own age
+near here. Last year I had my cousins, and I miss them so much!"
+
+"Of course you must!" said sympathetic Gerald. "Girls are no end--I--I
+mean, I like them too, ever so much." He paused, and wished he knew the
+right thing to say. How pretty and sweet she was! Not like Hilda, of
+course (Hilda was this young man's ideal of what a girl should be), but
+with a little quiet way of her own that was very nice. She must have no
+end of a time of it with these youngsters! He spoke his thought aloud.
+They were nearing Fernley, and he must leave her soon. "You must be
+having some difficulty with those youngsters, Miss Montfort. If I could
+help you any time, I wish you'd let me know. There have always been such
+a lot of us at home, I'm used to most kinds of children, you see; and I
+should be ever so glad--"
+
+[Illustration: "'Won't you come in?'"]
+
+"Oh, thank you!" said Margaret, gratefully. "I am sure you are very
+kind; and if you would advise me sometimes--now that Uncle John is
+away--I should be most grateful. But--I ought to be able to manage them
+myself, it seems to me, without help. If I can only make them love me!"
+She looked straight at Gerald, and her dark gray eyes were very
+wistful in their unconscious appeal.
+
+"I'd like to see 'em not!" said the young man, straightway. "Little
+beggars! They couldn't help themselves!" He was about to add that he
+would thrash them handsomely if they did not love her, but pulled
+himself together, and blushed to his ears, and was only comforted by
+seeing out of the tail of his eye that the girl was wholly unconscious
+of his blushes. After all, there was some sense in freckles and sunburn.
+
+But here they were now at the gates of Fernley. "Won't you come in?"
+said Margaret. But Gerald, becoming once more conscious of his
+working-clothes, which he had entirely forgotten, excused himself. If he
+might come some evening soon? Yes, he might, and should. He lingered
+still a moment, and Margaret, after a moment's shyness, held out her
+hand frankly. "I am so glad to know you!" she said, simply. "Uncle
+John--Mr. Montfort said I was to be good to you, and I will try."
+
+"I'm sure you couldn't be anything else!" said Gerald, with fervour.
+"Thanks, awfully, Miss Montfort. Good-bye!" Lifting his cap, the young
+man turned away, feeling homesick, and yet cheerful. Passing round the
+corner of the house, and finding himself well out of sight of the young
+girl, he relieved his feelings by turning a handspring; and on coming to
+his feet again, encountered the awful gaze of two greenish eyes, bent
+upon him from an upper window of the house.
+
+"Now I've done it!" said the youth, brushing himself, and assuming all
+the dignity of which he was master. "Wonder who that is? Housekeeper,
+perhaps? Quite the Gorgon, whoever it is. Wish I didn't turn over so
+easily."
+
+Margaret went into the house singing, with a lighter heart than she had
+felt since Uncle John's letter came. Perhaps she had made a friend; at
+any rate, a pleasant acquaintance. What a frank, nice, gentlemanly--boy!
+"For he is a boy, just as he says!" she acknowledged to herself. And
+what kind, honest eyes he had; and how thoughtful to offer to help her
+with the children!
+
+Her pleasant meditations were harshly interrupted. Miss Sophronia came
+down-stairs, with her brown and yellow shawl drawn over her shoulders;
+this, Margaret had learned, was a bad sign.
+
+"Margaret, who was that young man? I saw you! There is no use in
+attempting to conceal anything from me, my dear. I saw you talking with
+a young man at the gate."
+
+"Why should I conceal it?" asked Margaret, wondering. "It was Mr.
+Merryweather, Cousin Sophronia. He was a schoolmate of Uncle John's,--I
+mean his father was."
+
+"Stuff and nonsense!" cried the lady, sharply. "Don't tell me anything
+of the kind, miss. He was a common workman, a day-labourer. I tell you I
+saw him! Do you suppose I have no eyes in my head? I shall consider it
+my duty to tell your uncle as soon as he comes home. I am surprised at
+you, Margaret. I thought at least you were discreet. William's daughters
+would no more think of talking with such a person--but that comes of
+leaving a young person alone here with servants. My dear, I shall make
+it a point henceforward--"
+
+She stopped; for the gentle Margaret turned upon her with eyes of fire.
+"Cousin Sophronia, I cannot listen to this; I will not listen! I am a
+gentlewoman, and must be spoken to as a gentlewoman. I am eighteen years
+old, and am accountable to no one except Uncle John for my behaviour.
+Let me pass, please! I want to go to my room."
+
+The girl swept by, her head high, her cheeks burning with righteous
+wrath. Miss Sophronia gazed after her speechless; it was as if a dove
+had ruffled its wings and flown in her face. "Ungrateful girl!" said the
+lady to herself. "I never meet with anything but ingratitude wherever I
+go. She is as bad as those girls of William's, for all her soft looks.
+The human heart is very, very depraved. But I shall do my duty, in spite
+of everything."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+THE SECOND CONQUEST.
+
+
+The boys came home late for tea that night, bubbling over with joy.
+Basil declared that they did not want any supper. "Mrs. Peyton gave us
+some of her supper. I say, Cousin Margaret, isn't she bully?"
+
+"Basil, if you _could_ find another adjective now and then! I cannot
+imagine anything less appropriate to Mrs. Peyton than--the one you
+used."
+
+"Oh, well, it doesn't matter! She _is_ bully! She had broiled chicken, a
+whole one, and she just took a little piece off the breast for herself,
+and then she told Mert and me each to take a leg and run. And we did!
+And Mert sat down in the china bath-tub with his, and smashed
+it,--cracked it, at least,--and she said she didn't care."
+
+"And the table-drawer was full of chocolate peppermints," chimed in
+Merton, "and we ate so many, I don't feel very well now, I think,
+p'r'aps."
+
+"And she told us lots of things!" cried Basil again; he looked towards
+Miss Sophronia, with sparkling eyes. "She told us about when she was a
+little girl, and used to stay here, when Uncle John's puppa and mumma
+were alive. I say! And you were here, too, she said, Cousin Sophronia.
+And she said--lots of things!" The boy stopped suddenly, and gave his
+brother a look of intelligence.
+
+"Ho!" said Merton, "I know what you mean,--you mean about the ghost,
+that scared--I say! You stop pinching, will you? I'll punch your--"
+
+"Merton!" said Margaret, warningly.
+
+"Well, he was pinching me!" whined Merton. "And it did scare you, didn't
+it, Cousin Sophronia?"
+
+Miss Sophronia looked disturbed. "Merton, you should speak when you are
+spoken to!" she said, severely. "I am surprised that Mrs. Peyton should
+have told you such things. There certainly were some very strange
+occurrences at Fernley, Margaret, when I was a young girl. They never
+were explained to my satisfaction; indeed, I never heard of their being
+explained at all. Little boys, if you do not want any supper, you may as
+well run away. I do not approve of their going to see Emily Peyton,
+Margaret. I shall make a point of their not doing so in future. She was
+always malicious."
+
+She seemed much fluttered, and Margaret, wondering, hastened to change
+the subject. "I wonder where Susan D. can be. I have not seen the child
+since I came in, and she did not answer when I called her. Elizabeth, do
+you--"
+
+"Pardon me, Margaret, my love!" Miss Sophronia interposed. "Susan D. is
+in bed; I sent her to bed an hour ago."
+
+"Oh, Cousin Sophronia! Without her supper? What had she done?"
+
+"She was disobedient, my dear,--disobedient and impertinent. I have no
+doubt that this will have an excellent effect upon the child. Basil,
+what do you want? I told you to go away."
+
+"Cousin Margaret, could I speak to you a moment, please?" asked the boy.
+
+"I will come to you, Basil," said Margaret, quickly. "Will you excuse
+me, Cousin Sophronia, please? I have quite finished. Now, Basil, what is
+it?"
+
+She led the boy carefully out of earshot, for thunder and lightning were
+in his face, and she foresaw an outburst.
+
+"Susan D. is in bed!" cried Basil. "She has had no supper at all;
+Elizabeth said so. That woman sent her. Cousin Margaret, I won't stand
+it. I--I'll set fire to her clothes! I'll shoot her! I'll--I'll kill her
+some way--"
+
+Margaret laid her hand over the boy's mouth. "You will be silent!" she
+said. "Not a word, not a syllable, till you can speak like a civilised
+being. We will have no savages here."
+
+Basil said no word,--he knew well enough when he must obey,--but he set
+his teeth, and clenched his fists; the veins on his temples swelled, his
+whole childish frame shook with anger. Margaret had never seen any one,
+not even Rita, in such a passion as this. For a few moments, the two
+stood motionless, facing each other. Then Margaret took the boy's hand
+in hers, and led him out into the garden. Still holding his hand, she
+paced up and down the green walk in silence, Basil following obediently.
+The evening was falling soft and dusk; the last bird was chirping
+sleepily; the air was full of the scent of flowers. Behind the dark
+trees, where the sun had gone down, the sky still glowed with soft,
+yellow light. "See!" said Margaret, presently. "There is the first star.
+Let us wish! Oh, Basil dear, let us wish--and pray--for a good thing,
+for strength to overcome--ourselves."
+
+The boy's hand pressed hers convulsively, but he did not speak at first.
+Presently he said, almost in a whisper, "She is so little,--and so thin!
+I told Mother I would take care of her. But--I said--I would try not to
+let go of myself, too."
+
+Very tenderly Margaret drew the child down beside her, on a rustic
+bench that stood under one of the great tulip-trees. In the quiet
+darkness, she felt his heart open to her even more than it had done yet.
+In the hour that followed, she learned the story of a wild, faithful
+nature, full of mischief, full of love. The passionate love for his
+mother, whom he remembered well; the faithful, scowling devotion to the
+little sister, whom no one should scold but himself, and whom he shook,
+and bullied, and protected with a sole eye to her good; all this, and
+much more, Margaret learned. The two sat hand in hand, and took counsel
+together. "Oh, it is so good to have some one to talk to," cried Basil.
+
+"Isn't it, dear?" said Margaret. "Now you know how I feel with Uncle
+John away; and--oh, Basil, before I had Uncle John,--when my father
+died,--oh, my dear! But you are going to be my brother now, Basil,--my
+dear, dear little brother, aren't you? And you will tell me how to make
+Susan D. love me. I think you do love me a little already, don't you,
+Basil?"
+
+For all answer, Basil threw his arms round her, and gave her such a hug
+as made her gasp for breath.
+
+"Dear boy," cried Margaret, "don't--kill me! Oh, Basil! I tried to hug
+Susan D. the other day, and I might as well have hugged the door! She
+won't even let me kiss her good night; that is, she lets me, but there
+is no response. Why doesn't she like me, do you think?"
+
+"She does!" said Basil. "Or she will, soon as she can get out of
+herself. Don't you know what I mean, Cousin Margaret? It's as if she had
+a dumb spirit, like that fellow in the Bible, don't you know? Nobody but
+me understands; but you will, just once you get inside."
+
+"Ah, but how shall I ever get inside?" said Margaret.
+
+Basil nodded confidently. "You will!" he said. "I know you will, some
+time. Oh, Cousin Margaret, mayn't I take her something to eat? She's
+always hungry, Susan D. is, and I know she won't sleep a mite if she
+doesn't have anything. I--no, I won't let go again, but it _is_ the
+meanest, hatefullest thing that ever was done in the world! Now isn't
+it, Cousin Margaret? Don't you think so yourself?"
+
+Sorely puzzled as to the exact path of duty, Margaret tried to explain
+to the boy how ideas of discipline had changed since Cousin Sophronia
+was a young girl; how, probably, she had herself been brought up with
+rigid severity, and, never having married, had kept all the old
+cast-iron ideas which were now superseded by wider and better knowledge
+and sympathy. As to this particular point, what should she say? Her
+whole kind nature revolted against the thought of the hungry child,
+alone, waking, perhaps weeping, with no one to comfort her; yet how
+could she, Margaret, possibly interfere with the doings of one old
+enough to be her mother?
+
+Pondering in anxious perplexity, she chanced to raise her eyes to the
+house. It was brightly lighted, and, as it happened, the curtains had
+not been drawn. "Look!" said Margaret, pressing the boy's hand in hers.
+"Basil, look!"
+
+One long, narrow window looked directly upon the back stairs, which led
+from the servants' hall to the upper floor. Up these stairs, past the
+window, a figure was now seen to pass, swiftly and stealthily; a portly
+figure, carrying something that looked like a heaped up plate; the
+figure of Frances the cook. It passed, and in a moment more they saw
+light, as of an opening door, flash into the dark window of the corner
+room where the little girl slept.
+
+"Do you know, Basil," said Margaret, "I wouldn't worry any more about
+Susan D.'s being hungry. There is one person in Fernley whom no one, not
+even Uncle John, can manage; that is Frances."
+
+An hour or so later, Margaret was coming down from the nursery. Merton
+had announced, as bedtime drew near, that he "felt a pain;" and Margaret
+had no difficulty in tracing it to Mrs. Peyton's careless indulgence.
+She stole down quietly to the cheerful back room where Frances and
+Elizabeth sat with their sewing, and begged for some simple remedy.
+Frances rose with alacrity. "Checkerberry cordial is what you want,
+Miss Margaret," she said. "I've made it for thirty years, and I hope I
+know its merits. No wonder the child is sick. If some had their way,
+everybody in this house 'ud be sick to starvation."
+
+"I am afraid it was the other thing in this case, Frances," said
+Margaret, meekly. "I'm afraid Master Merton ate too many rich things at
+Mrs. Peyton's." Now in general, Frances could not abide patiently the
+mention of Mrs. Peyton; but this time she declared she was glad the
+child had had enough to eat for once. "'Twill do him no harm!" she said,
+stoutly. "Give him ten drops of this, Miss Margaret, in a wine-glass of
+hot water,--wait a minute, dear, and I'll mix it myself,--and he'll turn
+over and go to sleep like a lamb. Treating children as if they was one
+half starch and t'other half sticks! Don't tell me!"
+
+Knowing that none of this wrath was directed against herself, Margaret
+wisely held her tongue, and departed with her glass, leaving Frances
+still muttering, and Elizabeth with lips pursed up in judicious silence.
+And Merton took it and felt better, and was glad enough to be petted a
+little, and finally to be tucked up with the hot water-bottle for a
+comforter.
+
+As has been said, Margaret was coming down-stairs after this mission was
+fulfilled, when she met Miss Sophronia coming up. "All quiet up-stairs,
+my dear?" said the lady. "I am going to bed myself, Margaret, for I feel
+a little rheumatic, or I should rather say neuralgic, perhaps. These
+things are very obscure; the doctor says my case is a very remarkable
+one; he has never seen another like it. Yes, and now I am going to make
+sure that this child is all right, and that she does not actually need
+anything. Duty, Margaret, is a thing I can never neglect."
+
+Margaret followed her cousin into the room, feeling rather
+self-reproachful. Perhaps she had been unjust in her judgment. Cousin
+Sophronia was of course doing the best, or what she thought the best,
+for this poor wild little girl.
+
+Miss Sophronia advanced towards the bed, holding up her candle.
+Margaret, looking over her shoulder, saw the child lying fast asleep,
+her hand under her cheek. Her face was flushed, and her fair hair lay in
+a tangle on the pillow. Margaret had never seen her look so nearly
+pretty. There were traces of tears on her face, too, and she sobbed a
+little, softly, in her sleep.
+
+"Poor little thing!" whispered Margaret; but Miss Sophronia was not
+looking at Susan D. now. With stiff, outstretched finger she pointed to
+the floor. "Look at that!" she said, in a penetrating whisper. Indeed,
+the child had dropped her clothes on the floor all at once, and they lay
+in an untidy heap, shocking to Margaret's eyes, which loved to see
+things neatly laid. She shook her head and was about to murmur some
+extenuation of the offence, when--Miss Sophronia set down the candle on
+the stand; then, with a quick, decided motion, she pulled the sleeping
+child out of bed. "Susan D.," she said, "pick up your clothes at once.
+Never let me find them in this condition again. Shocking!"
+
+The child stood helpless, bewildered, blinking, half awake, at the
+light, not in the least understanding what was said to her. Miss
+Sophronia took her by the shoulder, not unkindly, and repeated her
+command. "Pick them up at once, my dear! Let this be a lesson to you,
+never to leave your clothes on the floor again." Still only half
+comprehending, the child stooped, stumbling as she did so, and picking
+up the clothes, laid them on the chair as she was directed.
+
+"There!" said Miss Sophronia, in high satisfaction. "Now, my dearest
+Margaret, you will see that this child will never neglect her clothes
+again. A lesson promptly administered, on the spot, is worth all the
+preaching in the world. Get into bed again, Susan D., and go to sleep
+like a good child. Some day you will be very grateful to your Cousin
+Sophronia for teaching you these things."
+
+She turned away with the candle. Margaret, standing in the shadow, saw
+the child still standing in the middle of the room, a forlorn, shivering
+little figure, silent; the most piteous sight those tender eyes had ever
+looked upon. Softly the girl closed the door. "Margaret," she heard her
+cousin say. "Oh, she is gone down-stairs!" and the steps went away
+along the entry. But Margaret groped her way to where Susan D. stood;
+the next moment she had the child in her arms, and was pressing her
+close, close. A rocking-chair was by; she had seen it, and knew where to
+lay her hand to draw it forward. She sank down in it, and rocked to and
+fro, murmuring inarticulate words of comfort. The night was warm, but
+still the child shivered; Margaret, groping again, found a shawl, and
+wrapped it round her. There was no more holding off, no more resistance;
+the little creature clung around Margaret's neck with a desperate hold,
+as if she dared not let her go for an instant. Her breast heaved once or
+twice, silently; then she burst into a passion of tears, and sobbed on
+her cousin's heart. "I love you!" cried the child. "You are good, and I
+love you! Don't--don't leave me alone, please don't!"
+
+Margaret held her close in her warm, loving arms. "My lamb!" she said.
+"My little girl! Indeed I will not leave you. Quiet now, dearie; quiet
+and don't cry! Oh, Susan D., I have no mother, either, dear; let us
+love each other a great, great deal!" and Susan D. sobbed, and curled
+closer yet, as if she would wind herself into the very heart that beat
+so kindly and so tenderly.
+
+So they sat, till the sobs died away into soft, broken breathings.
+Margaret began to sing, and crooned one after another the old songs that
+Katy used to sing to her when she was rocked just so on that broad,
+faithful Irish breast. Susan D. lifted her head a little towards her
+ear. "What is it?" said Margaret, bending down.
+
+"I--I do like singing!" whispered the child.
+
+Margaret nodded, and sang on. By and by the almost frantic clasp of the
+small arms loosened; the head sank back gently on her arm; the child was
+asleep. Margaret rose to lay her down, but instantly she started up
+again, affrighted, and cried out, and begged not to be left alone. What
+was to be done? Margaret hesitated; then she bade the child hold fast,
+and slowly, carefully she made her way down the stairs and through the
+passage to her own room, and did not pause till the little child was
+lying safe, happy, and wondering, in the white bed, in the wonderful
+White Room.
+
+"Crowd me?" said Cousin Margaret. "Not a bit of it! There is plenty of
+room, and in the morning we will have a most lovely cuddle, and tell
+stories. But now go to sleep this very minute, Susan D., while I do my
+hair. Good night, little sister!"
+
+"Good night!" said Susan D. "I love you! Good night!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE VOICE OF FERNLEY.
+
+
+From that night, Susan D. was Margaret's friend and true lover.
+
+She followed her round in the hope of being able to do some little
+service of love. She brought her flowers, and hunted the fields for the
+largest and finest berries for her. At any hour of the day, Margaret
+might feel a little hot hand slide into hers and deposit a handful of
+warm, moist raspberries or blueberries. Sometimes this bred trouble, as
+when Merton waylaid his sister, and wrested the hard-won treasures from
+her for his own refreshment; with the result of shrieks and scuffling,
+and a final thrashing from his elder brother; or, as when Cousin
+Sophronia detected the child sidling along with closed palm, and
+demanded to see what she had. Susan D. resisted stoutly, till at
+length, yielding to superior strength, she threw the berries on the
+floor, and trampled them into the carpet. There was a good deal of this
+kind of thing; but still the change was a blessed one, and Margaret,
+when she met the beaming look of love in the child's face, and
+remembered the suspicious scowl that had greeted her only so few days
+ago, was most thankful, and felt it to be worth any amount of trouble,
+even to taking the spots out of the carpet, which was a hard thing to
+do.
+
+"I told you!" said Basil, smiling superior. "I told you, once you got
+inside, you'd find the kid not at all so bad. I say, Cousin Margaret,
+you're not a fraidcat, are you?"
+
+"A what, Basil?"
+
+"A fraidcat! Don't you know what a fraidcat is, Cousin Margaret? Seems
+to me you didn't learn many modern expressions when you were a little
+girl, did you?"
+
+"Really, Basil, I think I learned all that were necessary," said
+Margaret, laughing. "I did not learn slang, certainly, nor boy-jargon,
+and I don't care to take lessons, thank you. Don't you think good,
+plain English is good enough?"
+
+"Oh, well, it sounds all right from you, 'cause you are you, and you
+wouldn't match yourself if you didn't talk that way, I suppose. But it
+would sound silly for a boy to go on so, don't you see?"
+
+"I am afraid I don't see very well, Basil, but no matter. The things I
+am afraid of are spiders and caterpillars and cows! Is that what you
+wanted to know?"
+
+"N--not exactly!" said the boy; "but no matter, Cousin Margaret. You
+haven't got a ball of twine, have you? Oh, yes, please! Thank you, that
+is just exactly what I wanted. You always know where things are, don't
+you? That's bully!"
+
+The children had been very good for the last few days; singularly good,
+Margaret thought, as she sat on the verandah in the pleasant twilight,
+reviewing the day's doings, and wondering what happy day would bring
+Uncle John back to her. Certainly, he would find a good deal of
+improvement. Merton had not run away since his experience in the bog;
+Susan D. was won, and Basil grew more and more helpful and considerate.
+More than that, the children, all three of them, seemed to have quieted
+down of their own accord. At this hour, they were generally shouting and
+screaming, racing over the grass, or tumbling headlong from the trees,
+keeping Margaret in a constant state of terror, and Cousin Sophronia in
+one of peevish irritation and alarm. But now they had gone of their own
+will to the summer-house, saying that they were going to tell stories,
+and see how quiet they could be. They were quiet, indeed, for she could
+not even hear their voices. Cousin Sophronia, coming out with an
+inquiry, became instantly suspicious, and declared she must go and see
+what they were about; but Margaret begged her to wait a little. "They
+can do no harm in the summer-house!" she said. "And--Uncle John thought
+we would better let them alone a good deal, Cousin Sophronia."
+
+"My love," said the lady, seating herself, and folding her hands for a
+good talk, "your Uncle John is a babe, simply a babe in these matters.
+Even if he knew anything about children,--which he does not,--it would
+be my duty, my positive duty, to shield him from all anxieties of this
+kind. Why else did I come here, my love, except for this very thing?"
+
+"Did you, then, know that Cousin Anthony wished to send the children?"
+asked Margaret, perhaps not without a spice of gentle malice.
+
+"Ahem! No, not precisely, my love! But--but it was my firm resolve to
+protect dearest John from every species of annoyance. Every species, my
+dear! John Montfort--good gracious! What is that?" She started to her
+feet, and Margaret followed her example. A sound seemed to pass them in
+the air; a strange sound, something between a sigh and a moan. It
+swelled for a moment, then died away among the trees beyond the
+verandah. Miss Sophronia clutched Margaret's arm. "You--you made that
+noise?" she whispered. "Say it was you, Margaret!"
+
+"Indeed, it was not I, Cousin Sophronia!" said Margaret. "It must have
+been a sudden gust of wind. It is gone now; it must surely have been
+the wind. Shall I bring you a wrap? Do you feel chilly?"
+
+Miss Sophronia still held her arm. "No, no! Don't go!" she said. "I--I
+feel rather nervous to-night, I think. Nerves! Yes, no one knows what I
+suffer. If you had any idea what my nights are-- You may be right, my
+dear, about the wind. It is a misfortune, I always say, to have such
+exquisite sensibility. The expression is not my own, my love, it is
+Doctor Soper's. Shall we go into the house, and light the lamps? So much
+more cheerful, I always think, than this dreary twilight."
+
+Margaret hesitated a moment. The evening was very warm, and once in the
+house, her cousin would be sure to shut all the windows and draw the
+curtains. Still, she must not be selfish--
+
+"If I join you in a few minutes, Cousin Sophronia?" she said. "The
+children--I suppose it is time for them to come in. I will just go down
+to the summer-house and see--"
+
+The sentence remained unfinished; for at that moment, almost close
+beside them, arose the strange moaning sound once more. This time Miss
+Sophronia shrieked aloud. "Come!" she cried, dragging Margaret towards
+the house. "Come in this moment! It is the Voice! The Voice of Fernley.
+I will not stay here; I will not go in alone. Come with me, Margaret!"
+
+She was trembling from head to foot, and even Margaret, who was not
+timid about such matters, felt slightly disturbed. Was this some trick
+of the children? She must go and hunt them up, naughty little things.
+Ah! What was that, moving in the dusk? It was almost entirely dark now,
+but something was certainly coming up the gravel walk, something that
+glimmered white against the black box-hedges. Miss Sophronia uttered
+another piercing shriek, and would have fled, but Margaret detained her.
+"Who is that?" said the girl. "Basil, is that you? Where are the other
+children?"
+
+The white figure advanced; it was tall and slender, and seemed to have
+no head. Miss Sophronia moaned, and cowered down at Margaret's side.
+
+"I beg pardon!" said a deep, cheerful voice. "I hope nothing is wrong.
+It is only I, Miss Montfort,--Gerald Merryweather."
+
+Only a tall youth in white flannels; yet, at that moment, no one, save
+Uncle John himself, could have been more welcome, Margaret thought. "Oh,
+Mr. Merryweather," she said, "I am so glad to see you! No, nothing is
+wrong, I hope; that is--won't you come up on the verandah? My
+cousin--Cousin Sophronia, let me present Mr. Merryweather."
+
+Mr. Merryweather advanced, bowing politely to the darkness; when, to his
+amazement, the person to whom he was to pay his respects sprang forward,
+and clutched him violently.
+
+"You--you--you abominable young man!" cried Miss Sophronia, shrilly.
+"You made that noise; you know you made it, to annoy me! Don't tell me
+you did not! Get away from here this instant, you--you--impostor!"
+
+Margaret was struck dumb for an instant, and before she could speak,
+Gerald Merryweather was replying, quietly, as if he had been throttled
+every day of his life:
+
+"If choking is your object, madam, you can do it better by pulling the
+other way, I would suggest. By pulling in this direction, you see, you
+only injure the textile fabric, and leave the _corpus delicti_
+comparatively unharmed."
+
+He stood perfectly still; Miss Sophronia still clutched and shook him,
+muttering inarticulately; but now Margaret seized and dragged her off by
+main force. "Cousin Sophronia!" she cried. "How can you--what can you be
+thinking of? This is Mr. Merryweather, I tell you, the son of Uncle
+John's old schoolmate. Uncle John asked him to call. I am sure you are
+not well, or have made some singular mistake."
+
+"I don't believe a word of it!" said Miss Sophronia. "Not one single
+word! What was he making that noise for, I should like to know?"
+
+Mr. Merryweather answered with a calm which he was far from feeling. His
+pet necktie was probably ruined, his collar crumpled, very likely his
+coat torn. He had taken pains with his toilet, and now he had been set
+upon and harried, by some one he had never seen, but whom he felt sure
+to be the Gorgon who had glared at him out the window several days
+before. This was a horrid old lady; he saw no reason why he should be
+attacked in the night by horrid old ladies, when he was behaving
+beautifully.
+
+"I am sorry!" he said, rather stiffly. "I was not conscious of speaking
+loud. Miss Montfort asked who it was, and I told her. If I have offended
+_her_, I am ready to apologise--and withdraw."
+
+This sounded theatrical, it occurred to him; but then, the whole scene
+was fit for the variety stage. Poor Margaret felt a moment of despair.
+What should she do?
+
+"Mr. Merryweather," she said, aloud, "Miss Montfort has been much
+startled. Just before you came, we heard a noise; rather a strange
+noise, which we could not account for. I think her nerves are somewhat
+shaken. She will be better in a moment. And--and I was just going to the
+summer-house, to call the children. Would you come with me, I wonder?"
+
+Miss Sophronia clamoured that she could not be left alone, but for once
+Margaret was deaf to her appeals. She was too angry; her guest--that
+is, her uncle's guest--to be set upon and shaken, as if he were a
+naughty child caught stealing apples,--it was too shameful! He would
+think they were all out of their senses.
+
+"Oh, I am so sorry! So sorry!" she found herself saying aloud. "Mr.
+Merryweather, I am so mortified, so ashamed! What can I say to you?"
+
+"Say!" said Gerald, his stiffness gone in an instant. "Don't say
+anything, Miss Montfort. I--I don't mean that; I mean, there's nothing
+_to_ say, don't you know? Why, it wasn't your fault! Who ever thought of
+its being your fault?"
+
+"I ought to have recognised you sooner!" said Margaret. "It was pretty
+dark, and we had really been startled, and my cousin is very nervous. If
+you would _please_ overlook it this time I should be so grateful!"
+
+"Oh, I _say_!" cried the young man. "Miss Montfort, if you go on in this
+way, I shall go back and ask the old--and ask the lady to choke me some
+more. I--I _like_ being choked! I like anything; only don't go on so!
+Why, it isn't any matter in the world. Perhaps it relieved her feelings
+a bit; and it didn't do me any harm." He felt of his necktie, and
+settled his collar as well as he could, thankful for the friendly
+darkness. "Indeed, I am all right!" he assured her, earnestly. "Trivets
+aren't a circumstance to me, as far as rightness is concerned. Now if
+you'll forget all about it, Miss Montfort, please, I shall be as happy
+as the bounding roe,--or the circumflittergating cockchafer!" he added,
+as a large June-bug buzzed past him.
+
+"You are very good!" murmured Margaret. "I am sure--but here is the
+summer-house. Children, are you here? Basil! Susan D.!"
+
+No answer came. The frogs chirped peacefully, the brook at the foot of
+the garden sent up its soft, bubbling murmur; there was no other sound.
+It was very dark, for the trees were thick overhead. The fireflies
+flitted hither and thither, gleaming amid the thickets of honeysuckle
+and lilac; the young man's figure beside her glimmered faintly in the
+darkness, but there was no glimpse of Susan D.'s white frock, or
+Basil's white head.
+
+"Children!" cried Margaret again. "Don't play any tricks, dears! It is
+bedtime, and after, and you must come in. Susan, Cousin wants you,
+dear!"
+
+Silence; not a rustle, not a whisper.
+
+"I should suppose they had gone," said Gerald. "Or do you think they are
+playing hookey? Wait a minute, and I'll hunt around."
+
+But search availed nothing; the children were not in the summer-house,
+nor near it. "They must have gone back to the house," said Margaret.
+"Thank you so much, Mr. Merryweather. I am sorry to have given you all
+this trouble for nothing."
+
+"Oh, trouble!" said Gerald. "This isn't my idea of trouble, Miss
+Montfort. What a pretty place this is! Awfully--I mean, extremely
+pretty."
+
+"It is pretty in the daytime. I should hardly think you could see
+anything now, it is so dark."
+
+"Well, yes, it is dark; but I mean it seems such a pleasant place to
+sit and rest in a little. Hadn't you better sit and rest a minute, Miss
+Montfort? The children are all right, you may be sure. Gone to bed, most
+likely, like good little kids. I--I often went to bed, when I was a
+kid."
+
+Margaret could not help laughing; nevertheless, she turned decidedly
+towards the house. "I am afraid I cannot be sure of their having gone to
+bed," she said. "I think I must find them, Mr. Merryweather, but if you
+are tired, you shall rest on the verandah while I hunt."
+
+Gerald did not want to rest on the verandah, particularly if his recent
+assailant were still there. He wanted to stay here in the garden. He
+liked the fireflies, and the frogs; the murmur of the brook, and the
+soft voice speaking out of the darkness. He thought this was a very nice
+girl; he wished she would not be so uneasy about those tiresome
+youngsters. However, as there seemed to be no help for it, he followed
+Margaret in silence up the gravel walk. She need not hurry so, he
+thought; it was very early, not half past eight yet. He wanted to make
+his call; he couldn't dress up like this every night; and, besides, it
+was a question whether he could ever wear this shirt again by daylight.
+
+Miss Sophronia was not on the verandah.
+
+"Will you not come in?" asked Margaret at the door; but Gerald felt,
+rather than heard, the uneasiness in her voice, and decided, much
+against his inclination, that it would be better manners to say good
+night and take himself off.
+
+"I think I must be going," he had begun already, when, from the open
+door behind them, burst a long, low, melancholy wail. The girl started
+violently. The young man bent his ear in swift attention. The voice--the
+cry--trembled on the air, swelled to a shriek; then died slowly away
+into a dreary whisper, and was gone.
+
+Before either of the young people could speak, the library door was
+flung open, and a wild figure came flying out. Miss Sophronia threw
+herself once more upon Gerald, and clung to him with the energy of
+desperation. "My dear young man!" cried the distracted lady. "Save me!
+Protect me! I knew your father! I was at school with your
+mother,--Miranda Cheerley. Save me,--hold me! Do not desert me! You are
+my only hope!"
+
+It was past nine o'clock when Gerald Merryweather finally took his
+departure. The children had been discovered,--in bed, and apparently
+asleep. Three neatly folded piles of clothes showed at least that they
+had gone to bed in a proper and reasonable manner. Miss Sophronia
+Montfort had finally been quieted, by soothing words and promises,
+followed up by hot malted milk and checkerberry cordial, the latter
+grimly administered by Frances, and so strong that it made the poor lady
+sneeze. Margaret was to sleep with her; Gerald was to come the next
+morning to see how she was; meanwhile, Frances and Elizabeth, the latter
+badly frightened, the former entirely cool and self-possessed, were to
+sleep in the front chamber, and be at hand in case of any untoward
+event.
+
+There was nothing further to be done save to shake hands warmly with
+Margaret, submit to an embrace from Miss Sophronia, and go. Mr.
+Merryweather strode slowly down the garden path, looking back now and
+then at the house, where already the lights on the lower floor were
+being extinguished one by one.
+
+"That's a very nice girl!" he murmured. "Hildegarde would approve of
+that girl, I know. But on the other hand, my son, that is a horrid old
+lady. I should like--Jerry, my blessed infant, I _should_ like--to make
+that old lady run!" He turned for a final glance at the house;
+considered the advisability of turning a handspring; remembered his
+white flannels, and, with a bow to the corner window, was gone in the
+darkness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+WHO DID IT?
+
+
+"Frightened, was she?" said Mrs. Peyton. "How sad! Margaret, you are not
+looking at my bed-spread. This is the first day I have used it, and I
+put it on expressly for you. What is the use of my having pretty things,
+if no one will look at them?"
+
+"Indeed, it is very beautiful!" said Margaret. "Everything you have is
+beautiful, Mrs. Peyton."
+
+"It is Honiton!" said Mrs. Peyton. "It ought to be handsome. But you do
+not care, Margaret, it is perfectly easy to see that. You don't care
+about any of my things any more. I was simply a new toy to you in the
+beginning, and you liked to look at me because I was pretty. Now you
+have new toys,--Sophronia Montfort, I suppose, and a sweet plaything she
+is! and you pay no further attention to me. Deny it if you can!"
+
+Margaret did not attempt to deny it; she was too absolutely truthful not
+to feel a certain grain of fact in the lady's accusation. Life was
+opening fuller and broader upon her every day; how could she think of
+lace bed-spreads, with three children constantly in her mind, to think
+and plan and puzzle for? To say nothing of Uncle John and all the rest.
+And as to the "new toy" aspect, Margaret knew that she might well enough
+turn the accusation upon her lovely friend herself; but this she was too
+kind and too compassionate to do. Would not any one want toys, perhaps,
+if forced to spend one's life between four walls?
+
+So she simply stroked the exquisite hand that lay like a piece of carved
+ivory on the splendid coverlet, and smiled, and waited for the next
+remark.
+
+"I knew you would not deny it!" the lady said. "You couldn't, you see.
+Well, it doesn't matter! I shall be dead some day, I hope and trust. So
+Sophronia was frightened? Tell me more about it!"
+
+"She was very much frightened!" said Margaret. "Mrs. Peyton, I wanted
+to ask you--when the children came home yesterday, they said something
+about your having told them some story of old times here; of a ghost, or
+some such thing. I never heard of anything of the sort. Do you--do you
+remember what it was? I ought not to torment you!" she added,
+remorsefully; for Mrs. Peyton put her hand to her head, and her brow
+contracted slightly, as if with pain.
+
+"Only my head, dear, it is rather troublesome to-day; I suppose I ought
+not to talk very much! Yes, there was a ghost, or something like one, in
+old times, when I was a child. I wasn't at Fernley at the time, but I
+heard about it; Sophronia was there, and I remember she was frightened
+into fits, just as you describe her last night."
+
+"What--do you remember anything about it? It isn't that old story of
+Hugo Montfort, is it, the man who looks for papers?"
+
+"Oh, no, nothing so interesting as that! I always longed to see Hugo.
+No, this is just a voice that comes and goes, wails about the rooms and
+the gardens. It is one of the Montfort women, I believe, the one who
+cut up her wedding-gown and then went mad."
+
+"Penelope?"
+
+"That's it! Penelope Montfort. Once in a while they see her, but very
+rarely, I believe."
+
+"Mrs. Peyton, you are making fun of me. Aunt Faith told me there was no
+ghost except that of Hugo Montfort; of course I don't mean that there is
+really that; but no ghost that people had ever fancied."
+
+"Ah, well, my dear, all this was before Mrs. Cheriton came to Fernley!
+Before such a piece of perfection as she was, no wandering ghost would
+have ventured to appear. Now don't stiffen into stone, Margaret
+Montfort! I know she was a saint, but she never liked me, and I am not a
+saint, you see. I was always a sinner, and I expect to remain one. And
+certainly, there was a white figure seen about Fernley, at that time I
+was speaking of; and no one ever found out what it was; and if you want
+to know any more, you must ask John Montfort. There, now my head is
+confused, and I shall not have a straight thought again to-day!"
+
+The lady turned her head fretfully on the pillow. Margaret, who knew her
+ways well, sat silent for some minutes, and then began to sing softly:
+
+        O sweetest lady ever seen,
+          (With a heigh ho! and a lily gay,)
+        Give consent to be my queen,
+          (As the primrose spreads so sweetly.)
+
+Before the long ballad was ended, the line between Mrs. Peyton's
+eyebrows was gone, and her beautiful face wore a look of contentment
+that was not common to it.
+
+"Go away now!" the lady murmured. "You have straightened me out again.
+Be thankful for that little silver voice of yours, child! You can do
+more good with it in the world than you know. I really think you are one
+of the few good persons who are not odious. Go now! Good-bye!"
+
+Margaret went away, thinking, as she had often thought before, how like
+her Cousin Rita this fair lady was. "Only Rita has a great, great deal
+more heart!" she said to herself. "Rita only laughs at people when she
+is in one of her bad moods. Dear Rita! I wonder where she is to-day.
+And Peggy is driving the mowing machine, she writes; mowing hundreds of
+acres, and riding bareback, and having a glorious time."
+
+A letter had come the day before from Peggy Montfort, telling of all her
+delightful doings on the farm, and begging that her darling Margaret
+would come out and spend the rest of the summer with her. "Darling
+Margaret, do, do, _do_ come! Nobody can possibly want you as much as I
+do; nobody can begin to think of wanting you one hundredth part as much
+as your own Peggy."
+
+Margaret had laughed over the letter, and kissed it, and perhaps there
+was a tear in her eye when she put it away to answer. It was good, good
+to be loved. And Peggy did love her, and so she hoped--she knew--did
+Uncle John; and now the children were hers, two of them, at least; hers
+to have and to hold, so far as love went. Go away and leave them now,
+when they needed her every hour? "No, Peggy dear, not even to see your
+sweet, round, honest face again."
+
+Coming back to the house she found Gerald Merryweather on the verandah.
+He was in his working clothes again, but they were fresh and spotless,
+and he was a pleasant object to look upon. He explained that he had
+called to inquire for the ladies' health, and to express his hope that
+they had suffered no further annoyance the night before. He was on his
+way to the bog, and just thought he would ask if there was anything he
+could do.
+
+"Thank you!" said Margaret, gratefully. "You are very good, Mr.
+Merryweather. No; nothing more happened; and my poor cousin got some
+sleep after awhile. But I still cannot imagine what the noise was, can
+you?"
+
+"So many noises at night, don't you know?" said Gerald. "Especially
+round an old house like this. You were not personally alarmed, were you,
+Miss Montfort? I think you may be pretty sure that there was nothing
+supernatural about it. Oh, I don't mean anything in particular, of
+course; but--well, I never saw a ghost; and I don't believe in 'em. Do
+you?"
+
+"Certainly not. I didn't suppose any one believed in them nowadays.
+But,--do you know, I really am almost afraid my Cousin Sophronia does.
+She will not listen to any explanation I can suggest. I really--oh, here
+she is, Mr. Merryweather!"
+
+Miss Sophronia greeted Gerald with effusion. "I heard your voice, my
+dear young man," she said, "and I came down to beg that you would take
+tea with us this evening--with my niece--she is quite the same as my own
+niece; I make no difference, dearest Margaret, I assure you,--with my
+niece and me. If--if there should be any more unpleasant occurrences, it
+would be a comfort to have a man, however young, on the premises. Willis
+sleeps in the barn, and he is deaf, and would be of little use. He
+couldn't even be of the smallest use, if we should be murdered in our
+beds."
+
+"Oh, but we are not going to be murdered, Cousin Sophronia," said
+Margaret, lightly. "We are going to be very courageous, and just let
+that noise understand that we care nothing whatever about it."
+
+"Margaret, my love, you are trivial," responded Miss Sophronia,
+peevishly. "I wish you would pay attention when I speak. I ask Mr.
+Merryweather to take tea with us, and you talk about noises. Very
+singular, I am sure."
+
+"Oh, but of course it would be very pleasant, indeed, to have Mr.
+Merryweather take tea with us!" cried Margaret, in some confusion. "I
+hope you will come, Mr. Merryweather."
+
+It appeared that nothing in the habitable universe would give Mr.
+Merryweather greater pleasure. At half-past six? He would not fail to be
+on hand; and if there should be noises again, why--let those who made
+them look to themselves. And, with this, the young man took his leave.
+
+The children were very troublesome that day. Margaret could not seem to
+lay her hand on any one of them. If she called Basil, he was "in the
+barn, Cousin Margaret, helping Willis with the hay. Of course I'll come,
+if you want me, but Willis seems to need me a good deal, if you don't
+mind."
+
+When it was time for Susan D.'s sewing, the child came most obediently
+and affectionately; but her thimble was nowhere to be found, and she had
+mislaid her spool, and, finally, when everything was found, she had not
+sat still ten minutes, when she was "_so_ thirsty; and must go and get a
+glass of water, please, Cousin Margaret!"
+
+"Susan," said Margaret, "I want to talk to you, and I cannot seem to get
+a chance for a word. Sit still now, like a good little girl, and tell
+me--"
+
+"Yes, Cousin Margaret, I couldn't find my thimble first, you see; and
+then there wasn't any spool, and I left it in my basket yesterday, I'm
+sure I did, but Merton _will_ take it to teach the kitten tricks with,
+and then it gets all dirty. Don't you know how horrid a spool is when a
+kitten has been playing with it? You have to wind off yards and yards,
+and then the rest is sort of fruzzly, and keeps making knots."
+
+"Yes, I know. Susan D., what were you doing last evening?" said
+Margaret.
+
+"Last evening?" repeated the child. "We were in the summer-house,
+Cousin Margaret. We were playing Scottish Chiefs, don't you know? Merton
+had to play Lord Soulis, 'cause he drew the short straw; but he got
+cross, and wouldn't play good a bit."
+
+"Wouldn't play _well_, or _nicely_," corrected Margaret. "But after
+that, Susan dear?"
+
+"That took a long time," said the child. It seemed, when she was alone
+with Margaret, that she could not talk enough; the little pent-up nature
+was finding most delightful relief and pleasure in unfolding before the
+sympathy that was always warm, always ready.
+
+"You see, when it came to carrying me off (I was Helen Mar, after I'd
+been Marion and was dead), Merton was just horrid. He said he wouldn't
+carry me off; he said he wouldn't have me for a gift, and called me
+Scratchface, and all kinds of names. And of course Lord Soulis wouldn't
+have talked that way; so Wallace (of course Basil _had_ to be Wallace
+when he drew the long straw, and he never cheats, though Merton does,
+whenever he gets a chance)--well, and so, Wallace told him, if he
+didn't carry me off in two shakes of a cat's tail--"
+
+"Susan D.!"
+
+"Well, that's what he _said_, Cousin Margaret. I'm telling you just as
+it happened, truly I am. If he didn't carry me off in two shakes of a
+cat's tail, he'd pitch him over the parapet,--you know there's a
+splendid parapet in the summer-house,--and so he wouldn't, and so he
+did; but Mert held on, and they both went over into the meadow. I guess
+Lord Soulis got the worst of it down there, for when they climbed up
+again he did carry me off, though he pinched me hard all the way, and
+made my arm all black and blue; I didn't say anything, because I was
+Helen Mar, but I gave it to him good--I mean well--this morning, and
+served him out. And then Wallace had to rescue me, of course, and that
+was _great_, and we all fell over the parapet again, and that was the
+way I tore the gathers out of my frock. So you see, Cousin Margaret!"
+
+Susan D. paused for breath, and bent over her sewing with exemplary
+diligence. Margaret took the child's chin in her hand, and raised her
+face towards her.
+
+"Susan," she said, gently, "after you had that fine play--it must have
+been a great play, and I wish I had seen it--after that, what did you
+do?"
+
+"We--we--went to bed!" said Susan D.
+
+"Why did you go without coming to say good night? Answer me truly, dear
+child."
+
+The two pairs of gray eyes looked straight into each other. A shadow of
+fear--a suggestion of the old look of distrust and suspicion--crept into
+the child's eyes for a moment; but before Margaret's kind, firm, loving
+gaze it vanished and was gone. A wave of colour swept over her face; her
+eyes wavered, gave one imploring glance, and fell.
+
+"Aren't you going to tell me, Susan D.?" asked Margaret once more.
+
+"N--no!" said Susan D., in a whisper scarcely audible.
+
+"No? And why not, dear child?"
+
+"I promised!" whispered Susan D.
+
+"Susan D., do you know anything about that strange noise that frightened
+us so last night?"
+
+But not another word would Susan D. say. She looked loving, imploring,
+deprecating; she threw her arms around Margaret's neck, and hid her face
+and clung to her; but no word could she be brought to say. At last
+Margaret, displeased and puzzled, felt constrained to tell the child
+rather sternly to fold her work and go away, and not come back to her
+till she could answer questions properly. Susan went obediently; at the
+door she hesitated, and Margaret heard a little sigh, which made her
+heart go out in sympathy toward the little creature. Instantly she rose,
+and, going to the child, put her arms round her affectionately.
+
+"Darling, I think you are puzzled about something," she said, quickly.
+Susan D. nodded, and clung close to her cousin's side.
+
+"I will not ask you anything more," said Margaret. "I am going to trust
+you, Susan D., not to do anything wrong. Remember, dear, that the two
+most important things in the world are truth and kindness. Now kiss me,
+dear, and go."
+
+Left alone, Margaret sat for some time, puzzling over what had happened,
+and wondering what would happen next. It was evident that the children
+were concerned in some way, or at least had some knowledge, of the
+mysterious sounds which had so alarmed Miss Sophronia. What ought she to
+do? How far must she try to force confession from them, if it were her
+duty to try; and how could she do it?
+
+Thus pondering, she became aware of voices in the air; she sat near the
+open window, and the voices were from above her. The nursery window! She
+listened, bending nearer, and holding her breath.
+
+"Well, if you back out now, Susan D., it will be mean!" Basil was
+saying. "What did you say to her?"
+
+"I didn't say anything!" Susan D. answered, sullenly.
+
+"Why didn't you tell her that we had a pain, and didn't want to bother
+her, 'cause she had company?" cried Merton, eagerly. "I had that all
+fixed to tell her, only she never asked me."
+
+"I wouldn't tell her a lie," said Susan D. "Basil, you wouldn't tell her
+a lie, either, you know you wouldn't, when she looks at you that way,
+straight at you, and you can't get your eyes away."
+
+"Of course I wouldn't," said Basil. "And the reason she didn't ask you,
+Merton, was because she knew it wouldn't make much difference what you
+said. That's the trouble about you. But now, Susan, if you had only had
+a little dipplo-macy, you could have got through all right, as I did."
+
+"I don't know what you mean by dipplo-macy," retorted Susan.
+
+"Ho, stupid!" sneered Merton.
+
+"I don't believe you know what it means yourself!" cried Basil. "Come,
+tell now, if you are so wise. What does it mean? Ah, I knew you didn't
+know! You _are_ a sneak, Mert! Well, I guess in the beginning, when Adam
+was making the words, you know, he must have wanted to hide from the
+serpent or something--perhaps a hairy mammoth, or a megatherium, I
+shouldn't wonder,--so he said, 'Dip low,' and then 'Massy!' for a kind
+of exclamation, you see. And spelling gets changed a lot in the course
+of time; you can see that just from one class to another in the grammar
+school. Well, anyhow, it means a sort of getting round things, managing
+them, without telling lies, or truth either."
+
+"You've got to tell one or the other," objected Susan D.
+
+"No, you haven't, either! Now, how did I manage? I have just kept out of
+Cousin Margaret's way all day, so far, and I'm going to keep out the
+rest of it. I've been helping Willis ever since breakfast, and he says I
+really helped him a great deal, and I'll make a farmer yet; only I
+won't, 'cause I'm going into the navy. And now pretty soon I'm going in,
+in a tearing hurry, and ask her if I can take some lunch and go over to
+see Mr. Merryweather at the bog, 'cause he is going to give me a lesson
+in surveying. He _is_; he said he would, any time I came over. And so,
+you see--"
+
+"That's all very well," interrupted Merton, scornfully. "But when it
+comes night, what'll you do then, I should like to know?"
+
+"Easy enough. I shall have a headache, and she won't ask me questions
+when I have a headache; she'll just sit and stroke my head, and put me
+to sleep."
+
+"Ho! How'll you get your headache? Have to tell a lie then, I guess."
+
+"No, sir, I won't! And if you say that again, I'll bunt you up against
+the wall. Easy enough to get a headache. I don't know whether I shall
+eat hot doughnuts, or just ram my head against the horse-chestnut-tree
+till it aches; but I'll get the headache, you may bet your boots--"
+
+"Basil, she asked you not to say that, and you said you wouldn't."
+
+"Well, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to. Pull out a hair, Susan D., and then
+I shall remember next time. Ouch! You pulled out two."
+
+"I say, come on!" cried Merton. "We've got lots of things to see to. We
+have to--"
+
+The voices were gone. Margaret sat still, sewing steadily, and working
+many thoughts into her seam.
+
+It might have been half an hour after this that Basil burst into the
+room, breathless and beaming, his tow-colored hair standing on end. "Oh,
+Cousin Margaret, can I--I mean may I, go over to the bog? Mr.
+Merryweather said he would give me a lesson in surveying; and Frances is
+going to put me up some luncheon, and I'm in a _norful_ hurry. May I go,
+please?"
+
+"Yes, Basil; you may go after you have answered me one question."
+
+"Yes, Cousin Margaret," said the diplomat. "I may miss Mr. Merryweather
+if I don't go pretty quick, but of course I will."
+
+"Basil, did you make that strange noise last night?"
+
+"No, Cousin Margaret!" cried the boy; the smile seemed to break from
+every corner of his face at once, and his eyes looked straight truth
+into hers. "I did not. Is that all? You said one question! Thank you
+ever and ever so much! Good-bye!" And he was gone.
+
+"It is quite evident that I am not a dipplo-mat," said Margaret, with a
+laugh that ended in a sigh. "I wish Uncle John would come home!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+BLACK SPIRITS AND WHITE.
+
+
+The evening fell close and hot. Gerald Merryweather, taking his way to
+Fernley House, noticed the great white thunder-heads peering above the
+eastern horizon. "There'll be trouble by and by," he said.
+
+        "I wonder, oh, I wonder,
+         If they're afraid of thunder.
+
+"Ever lapsing into immortal verse, my son. You are the Lost Pleiad of
+Literature, that's what you are; and a mighty neat phrase that is. Oh,
+my Philly, why aren't you here, to take notice of my coruscations? Full
+many a squib is born to blaze unseen, and waste its fizzing--Hello, you,
+sir! Stop a minute, will you?"
+
+A small boy was scudding along the path before him. He turned his head,
+but on seeing Gerald he only doubled his rate of speed. Merton was a
+good runner for his size, but it was ill trying to race the Gambolling
+Greyhound, as Gerald had been called at school. Two or three quick
+steps, two or three long, lopping bounds, and Master Merton was caught,
+clutched by the collar, and held aloft, wriggling and protesting.
+
+"You let me go!" whined Merton. "Oh, please Mr. Merryweather, don't stop
+me now. It's very important, indeed, it is."
+
+"Just what I was thinking," said Gerald. "We'll go along together, my
+son. I wouldn't squirm, if I were you; destructive to the collar;
+believe one who has suffered. What! it is not so many years. Take
+courage, small cat, and strive no more!"
+
+Merton, after one heroic wriggle, gave up the battle, and walked beside
+his captor in sullen silence.
+
+"Come!" said Gerald. "Let us be merry, my son. As to that noise, now!"
+
+"What noise?" asked Merton, peevishly.
+
+"The roarer, my charmer. Why beat about the bush? You frightened the
+old--that is, you alarmed both your cousins, with the joyful instrument
+known among the profane as a roarer. Tush! Why attempt concealment? Have
+I not roared, when time was? And a very pretty amusement, I could never
+deny; but I wouldn't try it again, that's all. You hear, young sir? I
+wouldn't try it again."
+
+"I don't know what you mean--" Merton began; but at this Gerald lifted
+him gently from the ground by his shirt-collar, and, waving him about,
+intimated gently that it would not be good for his health to tell lies.
+
+"Well, I didn't do it, anyhow!" Merton protested. "Honest, I did not."
+
+"Honesty is not written in your expressive countenance, Master Merton
+Montfort," said Gerald. "However, it may be so. We shall see. Meantime,
+young fellow, and merely as between man and man, you understand, it
+would be money in your youthful pocket if you could acquire the habit of
+looking a person in the eyes, and not directing that cherubic gaze at
+the waistcoat buttons, or even the necktie, of your in-ter-loc-utor.
+Now, here we are at the house, and you may go, my interesting popinjay.
+Bear in mind that my eye is upon you. Adieu! adieu! Rrrrrememberrrr
+me!!!"
+
+Gerald put such dramatic fervour into this farewell that Merton was as
+heartily frightened as he could have desired, and scurried away without
+stopping to look behind.
+
+"That's not such a very nice little boy, I believe," said Gerald.
+"T'other one is worth a cool dozen of Master Merton. Well, they won't do
+much mischief while I am to the fore. Though I should be loth to
+interfere with the end they probably have in view. I should like full
+well myself to make that-- Ah, good evening, Miss Montfort!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was so hot after tea, that even Miss Sophronia made no suggestion of
+sitting in the house. They all assembled on the verandah, which faced
+south, so that generally here, if anywhere, a breath of evening coolness
+might be had. To-night, however, no such breath was to be felt. The
+thunder-heads had crept up, up, half-way across the sky; their snowy
+white had changed to blackish blue; and now and again, there opened
+here or there what looked like a deep cavern, filled with lurid flame;
+and then would follow a long, rolling murmur, dying away into faint
+mutterings and losing itself among the treetops.
+
+Miss Sophronia was very uneasy. At one moment she declared she must go
+into the house, she could not endure this; the next she vowed she would
+rather see the danger as it came, and she would never desert the others,
+never.
+
+"Do you think there is danger, my dear young man?" she asked, for
+perhaps the tenth time.
+
+"Why, no!" said Gerald. "No more than usual, Miss Montfort. These trees,
+you see, are a great protection. If the lightning strikes one of them,
+of course it will divert the fluid from the house. If you have no iron
+about your person--"
+
+But here Miss Sophronia interrupted him. She begged to be excused for a
+moment, and went into the house. When she returned, her head was
+enveloped in what looked like a "tidy" of purple wool, while her feet
+were shuffling along in a pair of blue knitted slippers.
+
+"There!" she said, "I have removed every atom of metal, my dear young
+man, down to my hairpins, I assure you; and there were nails in my
+shoes, Margaret. My dear, I advise you to follow my example. So
+important, I always say, to obey the dictates of science. I shall always
+consider it a special providence that sent this dear young man to us at
+this trying time. Go at once, dearest Margaret, I implore you."
+
+But Margaret refused to adopt any such measures of precaution. She was
+enjoying the slow oncoming of the storm; she had seldom seen anything
+more beautiful, she thought, and Gerald agreed with her. He was sitting
+near her, and had taken Merton on his knee, to that young gentleman's
+manifest discomposure. He wriggled now and then, and muttered some
+excuse for getting down, but Gerald blandly assured him each time that
+he was not inconveniencing him in the least, and begged him to make
+himself comfortable, and entirely at home. Meantime, Margaret had
+called Basil and Susan D. to her side, and was holding a hand of each,
+calling upon them from time to time to see the wonderful beauty of the
+approaching storm. They responded readily enough, and were really
+interested and impressed. Once or twice, it is true, Basil stole a
+glance at his sister, and generally found her looking at him in a
+puzzled, inquiring fashion; then he would shake his head slightly, and
+give himself up once more to watching the sky.
+
+It was a very extraordinary sky. The clouds, now deep purple, covered it
+almost from east to west; only low down in the west a band of angry
+orange still lingered, and added to the sinister beauty of the scene.
+The red caverns opened deeper and brighter, and now and again a long,
+zigzag flash of gold stood out for an instant against the black, and
+following it came crack upon crack of thunder, rolling and rumbling over
+their heads. But still the air hung close and heavy, still there was no
+breath of wind, no drop of rain.
+
+Sitting thus, and for the moment silent, there came, in a pause of the
+thunder, a new sound; a sound that some of them, at least, knew well.
+Close at hand, rising apparently from the very wall at their side, came
+the long, eerie wail of the night before. Louder and louder it swelled,
+till it rang like a shriek in their ears, then suddenly it broke and
+shuddered itself away, till only the ghost of a sound crept from their
+ears, and was lost. Margaret and Gerald both sprang to their feet, the
+girl held the children's hands fast in hers, the lad clutched the boy in
+his arms till he whimpered and cried; their eyes met, full of inquiry,
+the same thought flashing from blue eyes and gray. Not the children?
+What, then? Before Gerald could speak, Miss Sophronia was clinging to
+him again, shrieking and crying; calling upon him to save her; but this
+time Gerald put her aside with little ceremony.
+
+"If you'll take this boy!" he cried. "Hold him tight, please, and don't
+let him get off. I'm going--if I may?" he looked swift inquiry at
+Margaret.
+
+"Oh, yes, yes!" cried the girl. "Do go! We are all right. Cousin
+Sophronia, you _must_ let him go."
+
+Dropping Merton into the affrighted lady's arms, the lithe, active youth
+was in the house in an instant, following the Voice of Fernley. There it
+came again, rising, rising,--the cry of a lost soul, the wail of a
+repentant spirit.
+
+"A roarer, by all means!" said young Merryweather. "But where, and by
+whom?" He ran from side to side, laying his ear against the wall here,
+there, following the sound. Suddenly he stopped short, like a dog
+pointing. Here, in this thickness of the wall, was it? Then, there must
+be a recess, a something. What corresponded to this jog? Ha! that little
+low door, almost hidden by the great picture of the boar-hunt. Locked?
+No; only sticking, from not having been opened, perhaps, for years. It
+yielded. He rushed in,--the door closed behind him with a spring. He
+found himself in total darkness,--darkness filled with a hideous cry,
+that rang out sharp and piercing,--then fell into sudden silence.
+
+"Is it you, Master Merton?" said a whisper. "I didn't wait; I thought
+maybe--"
+
+Gerald stretched out his arm, and grasped a solid form. Instantly he was
+grasped in return by a pair of strong arms,--grasped and held with as
+powerful a grip as his own. A full minute passed, two creatures
+clutching each other in the pit-dark, listening to each other's
+breathing, counting each other's heart-beats. Then--
+
+"Who are you?" asked Gerald, under his breath.
+
+"None of your business!" was the reply, low, but prompt. "Who are you,
+if it comes to that?"
+
+"Why,--why, you're a woman!"
+
+"And you're a man, and that's worse. What are you doing here?"
+
+"I am taking tea here. I'm a visitor. I have been here all the evening."
+
+"And I've been here twenty years. I'm the cook."
+
+The young man loosed his hold, and dropped on the floor. He rocked back
+and forth, in silent convulsions of laughter.
+
+"The cook! Great Caesar, the cook! Oh, dear me! Stop me, somebody.
+What--what did you do it for?" he gasped, between the paroxysms.
+
+"Hush! Young Mr. Merryweather, is it? Do be quiet, sir! We're close by
+the verandah. Was--was she frightened, sir?"
+
+"She? Who? One of 'em was."
+
+"She--the old one. I wouldn't frighten Miss Margaret; but she has too
+much sense. Was the other one scared, sir?"
+
+"Into fits, very near. You did it well, Mrs. Cook! I couldn't have done
+it better,--look here! I shall have to tell them, though. I came
+expressly to find out--"
+
+Groping in the dark, Frances clutched his arm again, this time in a
+gentler grasp. "Don't you do it, sir!" she whispered. "Young gentleman,
+don't you do it! If you do, she'll stay here all her days. No one can't
+stand her, sir, and this were the only way. Hark! Save us! What's that?"
+
+No glimmer of light could penetrate to the closet where they stood, in
+the thickness of the wall, but a tremendous peal of thunder shook the
+house, and Miss Sophronia's voice could be heard calling frantically on
+Gerald to come back.
+
+"I must go," said Gerald. "I--I won't give you away, Mrs. Cook. Shake!"
+
+"You're a gentleman, sir," replied Frances. They shook hands in the
+dark, and Gerald ran out. Even as he opened the door the storm broke. A
+violent blast of wind, a blinding flare, a rattling volley of thunder,
+and down came the rain.
+
+A rush, a roar, the trampling of a thousand horses; and overhead the
+great guns bellowing, and the flashes coming and going--it was a wild
+scene. The family had come in, and were all standing in the front hall.
+All? No, two, only,--Margaret and Miss Sophronia. In the confusion and
+tumult, the children had escaped, and were gone. Margaret, a little
+pale, but perfectly composed, met Gerald with a smile, as if it were the
+most ordinary thing in the world for young gentlemen to walk out of the
+wall. She was supporting Miss Sophronia, who had quite lost her head,
+and was crying piteously that they would die together, and that whoever
+escaped must take her watch and chain back to William. "Poor William,
+what will become of him and those helpless babes?"
+
+"It's all right, Miss Montfort," said Gerald, cheerfully. "I ran the
+noise down, and it was the simplest thing in the world. Nothing to be
+alarmed about, I do assure you; nothing."
+
+"What was it?" asked Margaret, in an undertone.
+
+"I'll tell you by and by," replied the young man, in the same tone. "Not
+now, please; I promised--somebody. You shall know all in good time."
+
+His look of bright confidence was not to be resisted. Margaret nodded
+cheerfully, and submitted to be mystified in her own home by an almost
+total stranger. Indeed, the Voice of Fernley had suddenly sunk into
+insignificance beside the Voice of Nature. The turmoil outside grew more
+and more furious. At length a frightful crash announced that the
+lightning had struck somewhere very near the house. This was the last
+straw for poor Miss Sophronia. She fled up-stairs, imploring Gerald and
+Margaret to follow her. "Let us die together!" she cried. "I am
+responsible for your young lives; we will pass away in one embrace. The
+long closet, Margaret! It is our only chance of life,--the long closet!"
+
+The long closet, as it was called, was in reality a long enclosed
+passage, leading from the Blue Room, where Miss Sophronia slept, to one
+of the spare chambers beyond. It was a dim place, lighted only by a
+transom above the door. Here were kept various ancient family relics
+which would not bear the light of day; a few rusty pictures, some
+ancient hats, and, notably, a bust of some deceased Montfort, which
+stood on a shelf, covered with a white sheet, like a half-length ghost.
+Margaret did not think this gloomy place at all a cheerful place for a
+nervous woman in a thunder-storm; so, nodding to Gerald to follow, she
+ran up-stairs. But before she reached the landing, terrific shrieks
+began to issue from the upper floor; shrieks so agonising, so
+ear-piercing, that they dominated even the clamour of the storm.
+Margaret flew, and Gerald flew after. What new portent was here?
+Breathless, Margaret reached the door of the long closet. It stood open.
+On the floor inside crouched Miss Sophronia, uttering the frantic
+screams which rang through the house. Apparently she had lost the use of
+her limbs from terror, else she would not have remained motionless
+before the figure which was advancing towards her from the gloom of the
+long passage. First a dusky whiteness glimmered from the black of the
+further end, where the half-ghost sat on its shelf; then gradually the
+whiteness detached itself, took shape,--if it could be called
+shape,--emerged into the dim half-light,--came on slowly, silently.
+Shrouded, like the ghostly bust behind it, tall and slender, with dark
+locks escaping beneath the hood or cowl that drooped low over its
+face,--with one hand raised, and pointing stiffly at the unhappy
+woman,--the figure came on--and on--till it saw Margaret. Then it
+stopped. Next came in view the bright, eager face of Gerald
+Merryweather, looking over Margaret's shoulder. And at that, the
+spectre began, very slowly, and with ineffable dignity, to retreat.
+
+"Exclusive party," whispered Gerald. "Objects to our society, Miss
+Montfort. Shall I head him off, or let him go?"
+
+Margaret made no reply; she was bending over the poor lady on the floor,
+trying to make her hear, trying to check the screams which still rang
+out with piercing force.
+
+[Illustration: A LIVELY GHOST.]
+
+"Cousin Sophronia! Cousin, do stop! Do listen to me! It is a trick, a
+naughty, naughty trick; nothing else in the world. Do, please, stop
+screaming, and listen to me. Oh, what shall I do with her?" This remark
+was addressed to Gerald; but that young gentleman was no longer beside
+her. He had been keeping his eye on the spectre, which slowly, softly
+glided back and back, until it melted once more into the thick blackness
+at the further end. Gerald dodged out into the hall, and ran along the
+outer passage, to meet, as he expected, the ghost full and fair at the
+other door. "Run!" cried a small voice. "I'll hold him; run!" Gerald was
+grasped once more, this time by a pair of valiant little hands which
+did their best, and which he put aside very gently, seeing a petticoat
+beneath them. "You sha'n't catch him!" cried the second spectre,
+clinging stoutly to his legs.
+
+        "Twice he wrung her hands in twain,
+         But the small hands closed again!"
+
+Meantime the spectre-in-chief had darted back into the closed passage.
+There was a crash. The half-ghost toppled over as he ran against it, and
+was shivered on the floor, adding another noise to the confusion. The
+phantom raced along the passage, took a flying leap over Miss
+Sophronia's prostrate form, revealing, had any looked, an unsuspected
+blackness of leg beneath the flowing white, and scudded along the square
+upper hall. By this time Gerald was at his heels again, and a pretty
+race it was. Round the hall, up the stairs, and round the landing of the
+attic flight. At the attic door the spectre wavered an instant,--then
+turned, and dashed down-stairs again. Once more round the upper hall,
+now down the great front staircase, gathering his skirts as he went,
+the black legs now in good evidence, and making wonderful play. A good
+runner, surely. But the Greyhound was gaining; he was upon him. The
+phantom gave a wild shriek, gained the front door with one desperate
+leap, and plunged, followed by his pursuer, into the arms of a gentleman
+who stood in the doorway, in the act of entering.
+
+"Easy, there!" said Mr. Montfort, receiving pursuer and pursued with
+impartial calm. "Is it the Day of Judgment, or what?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+A DEPARTURE.
+
+
+"I am extremely sorry, Sophronia, that you were so alarmed last night. I
+trust you feel no ill effects this morning?"
+
+"Ill effects! My dear John, I am a wreck! Simply a wreck, mentally and
+physically. I shall never recover from it--never."
+
+"Oh, don't say that, Cousin Sophronia!" exclaimed Margaret, who was
+really much distressed at all that passed.
+
+"My love, if it is the truth, I must say it. Truth, Margaret, is what I
+live for. No, I shall never recover, I feel it. My prayer is that these
+unhappy children may never know that they are the cause of my
+untimely--"
+
+"Has Basil made his apology?" asked Mr. Montfort, abruptly.
+
+"Yes, John, yes; I am bound to say he has, though he showed little
+feeling in it. Not a tenth part so much as little Merton, who was in
+real sorrow,--actually shed tears,--although he had no hand in the cruel
+deceit. Ah! Merton is the only one of those children who has any heart."
+
+"Indeed?" said Mr. Montfort, "I didn't know it was as bad as that."
+
+"Quite, I assure you, dearest John. If it were not for my poor William
+and his children, I should take Merton with me and be a mother to him.
+His nerves, like mine, are shattered by the terrible occurrences of the
+last two nights. He was positively hysterical as he pointed out to
+me--what I had already pointed out to you, Margaret--that the _real
+thing_ had not been explained. I might, in time, live down the effect of
+those children's wicked jest; but the Voice of Fernley has never been
+explained, and never will be."
+
+Mr. Montfort pulled his moustache, and looked out of the window,
+observing the prospect; but Margaret cried:
+
+"Oh, Cousin Sophronia, you are wrong; indeed, indeed you are! Young Mr.
+Merryweather found out all about it last night, only he had not time to
+tell us. He said it was something perfectly simple, and that there was
+no need of being alarmed in the least."
+
+"By the way," said Mr. Montfort, "I have a note from the lad this
+morning. He found some special tools were needed, and went up to town by
+the early train to see about them. May be gone a day or two, he says.
+What was the noise like, Margaret?"
+
+Margaret was about to tell all she knew, but Miss Sophronia interrupted.
+"Spare me, dearest Margaret, spare me the recalling of details. I am
+still too utterly broken,--I shall faint, I know I shall. John, it was
+simply the voice that was heard ten, or it may be fifteen years ago,
+when I was a young girl. You must remember; it is impossible but that
+you must remember."
+
+"I remember perfectly," said Mr. Montfort. "That was thirty years ago,
+Sophronia; that was in 1866. Oh, yes, I remember." Again Mr. Montfort
+became absorbed in the view from the window. His face was very grave;
+why, then, did the buttons on his waistcoat shake? "And Master Merton
+was frightened, was he?" he resumed, presently. "Ha! that looks bad.
+Good morning, Jones," as a respectable-looking man in livery came up the
+gravel walk. "A note for me? no answer? thanks." The man touched his
+hat, and departed; Mr. Montfort opened the pretty, pearl-coloured note,
+and read, as follows:
+
+        "DEAR JOHN:
+
+        "Don't punish the children; it was partly my
+        fault, and partly your own. I supposed you
+        expected something to happen, and I thought the
+        old trick would serve as well as a new one.
+
+                                    "As ever,
+                                           E. P."
+
+"Humph!" said Mr. Montfort, twisting the note, and frowning at the
+window. "Precisely! and so, you were saying, Sophronia--ahem! that is,
+you are obliged to leave us?"
+
+"Yes, my dearest John, I must go. I could not, no! I could not sleep
+another night beneath this roof. I have told Willis. I am cut to the
+heart at leaving you, so helpless, with only this poor child here, and
+those--those dreadful children of Anthony's. I would so gladly have
+made a home for you, my poor cousin. I live only for others; but still
+it seems my duty _to_ live, and I am convinced that another night here
+would be my death."
+
+"I will not attempt to change your purpose, Sophronia. At the same time
+I am bound to tell you that--a--that the disturbance of which you speak
+is of no supernatural kind, but is attributable to--to human agency
+altogether. If you wish, I will have it looked into at once, or we can
+wait till young Merryweather comes back. He seemed to know about it, you
+say, Margaret. And--but at any rate, Sophronia, we can write you the
+sequel, and, if you feel uneasy, why, as you say-- You have ordered
+Willis? Then I'll go and get some tags for your trunks."
+
+Mr. Montfort retired with some alacrity, and Margaret, with an
+unexplained feeling of guilt at her heart, offered to help Miss
+Sophronia with her packing.
+
+An hour later the lady was making her adieux. The carriage was at the
+door, Willis had strapped on the two trunks, and all was ready. Mr.
+Montfort shook his cousin by the hand, and was sorry that her visit had
+ended in such an untoward manner. Margaret begged Cousin Sophronia's
+pardon for anything she might have done amiss. Indeed, the girl's heart
+was full of a vague remorse. She had tried, but she felt that she might
+have tried harder to make things go smoothly. But Miss Sophronia bore,
+she declared, no malice to any one.
+
+"I came, dear John, determined to do my best, to be a sister to you in
+every way; it will always be a comfort to think that I have been with
+you these two months. It may be that some time, when my nerves are
+restored, I may be able to come to Fernley again; if you should make any
+changes, you understand me. Indeed, a complete change, my dear cousin,
+is the thing I should most recommend. Missing me as you will,--a
+companion of your own age,--you might still marry, dearest John, you
+might indeed. Emily--"
+
+"That will do, Sophronia!" said Mr. Montfort, sternly. "Have you
+everything you want for the journey?"
+
+"Everything, I think, dear John. Ah! well, good-bye, Margaret! It has
+been a blow to find that you do not love me, my dear, as I have loved
+you, but we must bear our burdens."
+
+"What do you--what can you mean, Cousin Sophronia?" asked Margaret,
+turning crimson. "I am sure I have tried--"
+
+"Ah! well, my dear, one gives oneself away," said the lady. "You said in
+your letter to your cousin,--I recall the precise words--'I have tried
+to love her, but I cannot succeed.' Yes; very painful to one who has a
+heart like mine; but I find so few--"
+
+"Cousin Sophronia," cried the girl, all softer thoughts now merged in a
+burning resentment. "You--you read my letter, the letter that was on my
+own desk, in my own room?"
+
+"Certainly, my love, I did. I hope I know something about young girls
+and their ways; I considered it my duty, my sacred duty, to see what you
+wrote."
+
+"You seem to know little about the ways of gentle people!" cried
+Margaret, unable for once to restrain herself. Her uncle laid his hand
+on her arm. "Steady, little woman!" he said. His quiet, warning voice
+brought the angry girl to herself, the more quickly that she knew his
+sympathy was all with her.
+
+"I--I should not have said that, Cousin Sophronia," she said. "I beg
+your pardon! Good-bye!"
+
+She could not say more; she stood still, with burning cheeks, while Mr.
+Montfort helped the lady into the carriage.
+
+"A pleasant journey to you, Sophronia," he said, as he closed the door.
+"Willis--"
+
+"Good-bye!" cried Miss Sophronia, out of the window. "Bless you, dearest
+John! Margaret, my love, I shall always think of you most tenderly,
+believe me, in spite of everything. It is impossible for me to harbour
+resentment. No, my child, I shall always love you as a sister. I have
+taken the old vinaigrette with me, as a little souvenir of you; I knew
+it would give you pleasure to have me use it. Bless you! And, John, if
+you want me to look up some good servants for you, I know of an
+excellent woman who would be the very thing--"
+
+"Willis!" said Mr. Montfort again. "You'll miss that train, Sophronia,
+if you don't,--_bon voyage!_"
+
+Mr. Montfort stood for some seconds looking after the carriage as it
+drove off; then he drew a long breath, and threw out his arms, opening
+his broad chest.
+
+"Ha!" said he. "So that is over. Here endeth the-- What, crying, May
+Margaret? Come and sit here beside me, child; or shall we come out and
+see the roses? Really astonishing to have this number of roses in
+August; but some of these late kinds are very fine, I think."
+
+Chatting quietly and cheerfully, he moved from one shrub to another,
+while Margaret wiped her eyes, and gradually quieted her troubled
+spirit.
+
+"Thank you, Uncle John!" she said, presently. "You know, don't you? You
+always know, just as papa did. But--but I never heard of any one's doing
+such a thing, did you?"
+
+"Didn't you, my dear? Well, you see, you didn't know your Cousin
+Sophronia when she was a girl. And--let us be just," he added. "You,
+belonging to the new order, have no idea of what many people thought and
+did forty years ago. I have no doubt, from my recollection of my Aunt
+Melissa, Sophronia's mother, that she read all her children's letters. I
+know she searched my pockets once, thinking I had stolen sugar; I
+hadn't, that time, and my white rat was in my pocket, and bit her, and I
+was glad."
+
+Seeing Margaret laugh again, Mr. Montfort added, in a different tone,
+"And now, I must see those boys."
+
+The children were sent for to the study, where they remained for some
+time. Basil and Susan D. came out looking very grave; they went up to
+the nursery in silence, and sat on the sofa, rubbing their heads
+together, and now and then exchanging a murmur of sympathy and
+understanding. Merton remained after the others, and when he emerged
+from the fatal door, he was weeping profusely, and refused to be
+comforted by Elizabeth; and was found an hour after, pinching Chico's
+tail, and getting bitten in return. Telling Margaret about it
+afterward, Mr. Montfort said:
+
+"Basil and the little girl tell a perfectly straight story. It is just
+as I supposed; they were trying the old ghost trick that we other boys,
+your father and Richard and I, Margaret, played on Sophronia years ago.
+If the thunder-storm had not brought you all up-stairs, there would have
+been some very pretty ghost-gliding, and the poor soul would very likely
+have been frightened into a real fit instead of an imaginary one.
+Children don't realise that sort of thing; I certainly did not, nor my
+brothers; but I think these two realise it now, and they are not likely
+to try anything of the kind again. As for the noise,--"
+
+"Yes, Uncle John, I am really much more puzzled about that noise, for,
+of course, I saw the other foolishness with my eyes."
+
+"Well!" said Mr. Montfort, comfortably, "we used to make that noise with
+a thing we called a roarer; I don't know whether they have such things
+now. You take a tomato-can, and put a string through it, and then you--
+It really does make a fine noise, very much what you describe. Yes, I
+have that on my conscience, too, Margaret. You see, I told you I knew
+this kind of child, and so I do, and for good reason. But Basil won't
+say anything at all about the matter. He says it was not his hunt, and
+he will tell all that he did, but cannot tell on others; which is
+entirely proper. But when I turned to that other little scamp, Merton, I
+could get nothing but floods of tears, and entreaties that I would ask
+Frances. 'Frances knows all about it!' he said, over and over."
+
+"And have you seen Frances?"
+
+"N--no," replied Mr. Montfort, rather slowly. "I am going to see Frances
+now."
+
+Accordingly, a few minutes later, Frances, bustling about her kitchen,
+became aware of her master standing in the doorway. She became aware of
+him, I say, but it was with "the tail of her eye" only; she took no
+notice of him, and went on rattling dish-pans at an alarming rate. She
+appeared to be house-cleaning; at all events, the usually neat kitchen
+was in a state of upheaval, and the chairs and tables, tubs and
+clothes-horses, were so disposed that it was next to impossible for any
+one to enter. Moreover, Frances apparently had a toothache, for her face
+was tied up in a fiery red handkerchief; and when Mr. Montfort saw that
+handkerchief, he looked grave, and hung about the door more like a
+schoolboy than a dignified gentleman and the proprietor of Fernley
+House.
+
+"Good morning, Frances," he said at length, in a conciliatory tone.
+
+"Good morning, sir," said Frances; and plunged her mop into a pail of
+hot water.
+
+"You have a toothache, Frances? I am very sorry."
+
+"Yes, sir, I have; thank you, sir."
+
+"A--Frances--I came to ask if you can tell me anything about the strange
+noise that frightened the ladies so, last night and the night before."
+
+"No, sir," said Frances. "I can't tell you nothing about it. There do be
+rats enough in this house, Mr. Montfort, to make any kind of a noise;
+and I do wish, sir, as the next time you are in town, you would get me a
+rat-trap as is good for something. There's nothing but trash, as the
+rats won't look at, and small blame to them. I can't be expected to do
+without things to do with, Mr. Montfort, and I was saying so to
+Elizabeth only this morning."
+
+"I will see to the traps, Frances. But this noise that I am speaking of;
+Master Merton says--"
+
+"And I was wishful to ask you, sir, if you would please tell Master
+Merton to keep out of my kitchen, and not come bothering here every hour
+in the day. The child is that greedy, he do eat himself mostly ill every
+day, sir, as his father would be uneasy if he knew it, sir. And to have
+folks hanging round my kitchen when I am busy is a thing I never could
+abide, Mr. John, as you know very well, sir, and I hope you'll excuse me
+for speaking out; and if you'd go along, sir, and be so kind, maybe I
+could get through my cleaning so as to have dinner not above half an
+hour or so late, though I'm doubtful myself, harried as I have been."
+
+"I really don't see what I am to do with Frances," said Mr. Montfort, as
+he went back to his study; "she grows more and more impracticable. She
+will be giving me notice to quit one of these days, if I don't mind. I
+am very sure the house belongs to her, and not to me. But, until Master
+Gerald Merryweather comes back, I really don't see how I am to find out
+who worked that roarer."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+PEACE.
+
+
+Peace reigned once more at Fernley House; peace and cheerfulness, and
+much joy. It was not the same peace as of old, when Margaret and her
+uncle lived their quiet tete-a-tete life, and nothing came to break the
+even calm of the days. Very different was the life of to-day. The peace
+was spiritual purely, for the lively and varied round of daily life gave
+little time for repose and meditation, at least for Margaret. She had
+begun to give the children short but regular lessons in the morning,
+finding that the day was not only more profitable but pleasanter for
+them and for all, if it began with a little study. And the lessons were
+a delight to her. Remembering her struggles with Peggy,--dear Peggy,--it
+was a joy to teach these young creatures the beginnings of her beloved
+English history, and to see how they leaped at it, even as she herself
+had leaped so few years ago. They carried it about with them all day.
+Margaret never knew whom to expect to dinner in these days. Now a
+scowling potentate would stalk in with folded arms and announce that he
+was William the Conqueror, and demand the whereabouts of Hereward the
+Wake (who was pretty sure to emerge from under the table, and engage in
+sanguinary combat, just after he had brushed his hair, and have to be
+sent up to the nursery to brush it over again); now a breathless pair
+would rush in, crying that they were the Princes in the Tower, and would
+she please save them, for that horrid old beast of a Gloster was coming
+after them just as fast as he could come. Indeed, Margaret had to make a
+rule that they should be their own selves, and no one else, in the
+evening when Uncle John came home, for fear of more confusion than he
+would like.
+
+"But I get so _used_ to being Richard," cried Basil, after a day of
+crusader-life. "You can't do a king well if you have to keep stopping
+and being a boy half the time. Don't you see that yourself, Cousin
+Margaret?"
+
+Yes, Margaret saw that, but she submitted that she liked boys, and that
+it was trying for a person in private life, like herself, to live all
+day in royal society, especially when royalty was so excited as the
+Majesty of England was at this juncture.
+
+"Oh, but why can't you be some one too, Cousin Margaret? I suppose Susan
+D. would hate to give up being Berengaria, after you gave her that
+lovely gold veil--I say, doesn't she look bul--doesn't she look pretty
+in it? I never thought Susan D. would come out pretty, but it's mostly
+the way you do her hair--what was I saying, Cousin Margaret? Oh, yes,
+but there are other people you could be, lots and lots of them.
+And--Merton doesn't half do Saladin. He keeps getting mad when I run him
+through the body, and I _can't_ make him understand that I don't mean
+those nasty, fat, black things in ponds, when I call him 'learned
+leech,' and you know he _has_ to be the leech, it says so in the
+'Talisman.' And so perhaps you would be Saladin, and he can be Sir
+Kenneth, though he's too sneaky for him, too. Or else you could be the
+hermit, Cousin Margaret. Oh, do be the hermit! Theodoric of Engedi, you
+know, the Flail of the Desert, that's a splendid one to do. All you have
+to do is keep jumping about and waving something, and crying out, 'I am
+Theodoric of Engedi! I am the Flail of the Desert!' Come on, Cousin
+Margaret, oh, I say, do!" And Susan D., tugging at her cousin's gown,
+shouted in unison, "Oh, I say, do, Cousin Margaret!"
+
+If any one had told Margaret Montfort, three months before this, that
+she would, before the end of the summer, be capering about the garden,
+waving her staff, and proclaiming herself aloud to be the highly
+theatrical personage described above, she would have opened her eyes in
+gentle and rather scornful amazement. But Margaret was learning many
+things in these days, and among them the art of being a child. Her life
+had been mostly spent with older people; she had never known till now
+the rapture of being a little girl, a little boy. Now, seeing it in
+these bright faces, that never failed to grow brighter at sight of her,
+she felt the joy reflected in her own face, in her own heart; and it was
+good to let all the quiet, contained maiden ways go, once in a while,
+and just be a child with the children, or a Flail of the Desert, as in
+the present instance.
+
+John Montfort, leaning on the gate, watched the pretty play, well
+pleased. "They have done her all the good in the world," he said to
+himself. "It isn't only what she has done for them, bless her, but for
+her, too, it has been a great thing. I was selfish and stupid to think
+that a young creature could go on growing to fulness, without other
+young creatures about it. How will she feel, I wonder, about their
+going? How would she like--"
+
+[Illustration: "THE 'FLAIL OF THE DESERT.'"]
+
+At this moment he was discovered by Basil, who charged him with a joyous
+shout. "Oh, here is Uncle John! Oh, Uncle John, don't you want to be
+Saladin, please? Here's Merton has hurt his leg and gone off in a sulk,
+and I'll get you a scimitar in a minute--it's the old sickle, and Willis
+says it's so rusty you can't really do much mischief with it; and
+here's the Hermit of Engedi, you know, and he can shout--"
+
+But, alas, for the Lion-hearted! When he turned to summon his hermit, he
+saw no flying figure, brandishing a walking-stick and crying aloud, but
+a demure young lady, smoothing her hair hurriedly and shaking out the
+folds of her dress, as she hastened to meet her uncle.
+
+"Bravo!" said Uncle John. "But why did you stop, Meg? It wouldn't have
+been the first time I had played Saladin, I assure you!"
+
+"Oh, uncle! I am really too much out of breath to play any more. And
+besides, it is near tea-time, and the children must go and get ready. I
+will come in a moment, Susan dear, and do your hair. Are there any
+letters, Uncle John? Oh, two, from the girls; how perfectly delightful!
+Oh, I must run up, but we'll read them after tea, shall we, Uncle John?"
+
+"With all my heart, my dear; and I have a letter, too, about which I
+shall want to consult you. Go now, or Susan D. will be trying to braid
+her own hair, a thing to be avoided, I have observed."
+
+Tea over, and Mr. Montfort seated at ease with his cigar, the children
+engaged in an enchanting game of Bat (played with worn-out umbrellas,
+from which the sticks had been taken: this game is to be highly
+recommended where there is space for flapping and swooping), Margaret
+opened her letters; reopened them, rather, for it must be confessed that
+she had peeped into both while she was braiding her own hair and
+changing her dress for the pretty evening gown her uncle always liked to
+see.
+
+"Peggy is actually off for school, Uncle John. It does not seem possible
+that we are in September, and the summer really gone. She seems in high
+spirits over it, dear child. Listen!
+
+        "DARLING DEAREST MARGARET:
+
+        "I am going to-morrow; I waited till the last
+        minute, so that I could tell you the last of
+        me. My trunk is almost all packed, and I really
+        think I have done it pretty well. Thank you,
+        ever and ever and ever so much, for the nice
+        things to tie up my shoes in. They are just
+        lovely, and so is the shoe-bag to hang against
+        the wall. I mean to put away every shoe just
+        the very minute I take it off, and not have
+        them kicking about the closet floor at all,
+        ever. And the combing-sack! Oh, Margaret, it is
+        a perfect beauty! Ever so much too pretty to do
+        my hair in, and mother says so, too, but I
+        shall, because you made it for me to, and think
+        of you all the time I am, and--
+
+        "I got a little mixed there, but you will know
+        what I mean, dearest Margaret. Tell Uncle John
+        I am so perfectly delighted with the lovely
+        ring, I don't know _what_ to _do_. Oh,
+        Margaret, you know how I always wanted a ring,
+        and how I used to admire that sapphire of
+        Rita's; and to think of having a sapphire ring
+        myself--why, I can hardly believe it even now!
+        I couldn't go to sleep for ever so long last
+        night, just watching it in the moonlight. Of
+        course I shall write to Uncle John and thank
+        him myself, but I couldn't wait just to let him
+        know how happy I was. (Margaret, if you think
+        he would like it, or at least wouldn't mind it,
+        you might give him a hug just now and say I
+        sent it, but don't unless you are _perfectly
+        sure_ he wouldn't mind, because you know how I
+        _love_ Uncle John, even if I am just the least
+        bit afraid of him, and I'm sure that is natural
+        when you think what a goose I am.)"
+
+Margaret paused, laughing, to throw her arms around her uncle, and tell
+him that this was "Peggy's hug;" then she went on:
+
+        "I was so glad to get your last letter, and to
+        hear all about dear, darling Fernley, and Uncle
+        John, and Elizabeth and Frances, and all the
+        funny things those funny children have been
+        doing. Margaret, they are almost exactly like
+        us children when we were their age. I never
+        began to think about growing up till I read
+        about how they carry on, and then saw that we
+        didn't act so any more, Jean, and Flora, and I.
+        Jean is younger than me, of course, but she's
+        more grown up, I really think. I think you must
+        have a lovely time, now that--well, you said I
+        mustn't call names, and so I won't, but I know
+        just exactly what kind of a person she was,
+        Margaret, and _so do you_, and you can't deny
+        it, so now!
+
+        "Margaret, of course I do feel rather scared
+        about school, for I am still very ignorant, and
+        I suppose all the girls will know about forty
+        thousand times as much as I do, and they will
+        call me stupid, and I know I am; but I mean to
+        be brave, and remember all the things you have
+        said, and mother has helped me, too, oh, a lot,
+        and she says she just wishes she had had the
+        chance when she was a girl, and I know now just
+        how she feels. And then when I come home, you
+        see, I can teach the little girls, and that
+        will be great. But I never shall try to teach
+        them spelling, or history, for you know I
+        cannot; and I cannot remember to this day who
+        Thomas a Bucket was, and why they called him
+        that.
+
+        "Hugh came in just now, and I asked him that,
+        and he laughed, and said Thomas a Bucket was
+        certainly pale before they got through with
+        him. I don't know what he means, but he says
+        you will, so I write it down. Good-bye,
+        dearest, darling Margaret. Give heaps and
+        oceans and lots of love to Uncle John, and most
+        of all to your own darling self, from
+
+                                            "PEGGY."
+
+"I wonder how Peggy will get on at school?" said Margaret. "Very well, I
+should think. Certainly no one can help liking her, dear girl; and she
+will learn a great deal, I am sure."
+
+"She'll never learn English history," said Mr. Montfort; "but after all,
+there are other things, May Margaret, though you are loth to acknowledge
+it."
+
+"And now for Rita. I'll just run through it again, Uncle John, to
+see--oh! oh, yes! The first part is all just that she wants to see me,
+and so on,--her wild way. She has had the most wonderful summer,--'the
+Pyrenees, Margaret! Never before have I seen great mountains, that scale
+the heavens, you understand. The Titans are explained to me. I have
+seen, and my soul has arisen to their height. I could dwell with thee,
+Marguerite, on snow-peaks tinged with morning rose, peaks that touch the
+stars, that veil themselves in clouds of evening;' perhaps I'll skip a
+little here, Uncle John. Interlaken,--the Jungfrau,--oh, she _is_ having
+a glorious time. Oh! oh, dear me, uncle!"
+
+"Well, my dear? She has not fallen off the Jungfrau?"
+
+"No, not that; but she--she is--or she thinks she is--going to be
+married."
+
+Mr. Montfort whistled. "To the Matterhorn, or to some promising young
+avalanche? Pray enlighten me, my dear."
+
+"Oh! don't laugh, Uncle John, I am afraid it may be serious. A young
+Cuban, she says, a soldier, of course." Margaret ran her eyes down the
+page, but found nothing sober enough to read aloud. "He seems to be a
+very wonderful person," she said, timidly. "Handsome, and a miracle of
+courage,--and a military genius; if war should come, Rita thinks he will
+be commander-in-chief of the Cuban army. You don't think it will really
+come to war, Uncle John?"
+
+"I cannot tell, Margaret," said Mr. Montfort, gravely. "Things are
+looking rather serious, but no one can see just what is coming yet. And
+this seems to be a bona fide engagement? It isn't little Fernando, is
+it?"
+
+"No! oh, no! She says--she is sorry for Fernando, but he will always be
+her brother. This one's name is--let me see. Jose Maria Salvador
+Santillo de Santayana. What a magnificent name! He had followed her from
+Cuba, and he has Uncle Richard's permission to pay his addresses to
+Rita, and she says--she says he is the dream of her life, embodied in
+the form of a Greek hero, with the soul of a poet, and the intellect of
+a Shakespeare. So I suppose it is all right, uncle; only, she is very
+young."
+
+"Young! My dear child, she was grown up while you were still in the
+nursery," said Mr. Montfort. "According to Spanish ideas, it is high
+time for her to be married, and I am sure I wish the dear girl all
+happiness. We must look over the family trinkets, Margaret, and find
+something for our bird of Paradise. There are some pretty bits of
+jewelry; but that will keep. Now, if you can stop wondering and
+romancing for a moment, May Margaret, I, too, have a letter, about which
+I wish to consult you."
+
+"Yes, uncle, oh, yes! I hope he is good as well as handsome, don't you?
+She says the Santillo nose is the marvel of all Cuba."
+
+"The Santillo nose may be pickled in brine, my dear, for ought I care; I
+really want your attention, Margaret, and you must come down from the
+clouds. Here is Anthony Montfort writing for his children."
+
+"_What!_" cried Margaret, waking suddenly from her dream. "What did you
+say about the children, Uncle John? Cousin Anthony writing for them?
+What can you mean?"
+
+"Why, my love, I mean writing for them," said Mr. Montfort, calmly. "He
+is, you may remember, a relation of theirs, a father in point of fact.
+He has found an excellent opening in California, and means to stay
+there. He says--I'll read you his letter, or the part of it that relates
+to the children. Hum--'grateful to you'--ha! yes, here it is. 'Of
+course I must make some arrangement about the children. One of the boys
+can come to me, but I cannot take care of both, so Basil will have to go
+to boarding-school, and Susan D., too. If you would be so good as to
+look up a good school or two, I should be ever so much obliged. Basil
+can take care of himself, you'll only have to consign and ship him;
+perhaps you can get some one to go with the little girl, and see to her
+things and all that. It's a shame to call upon you,'--h'm! so forth!
+Well, Meg, what do you say?"
+
+But Margaret said nothing. She was sitting with her hands fallen on her
+lap, gazing at her uncle with a face of such piteous consternation that
+he had much ado to keep his countenance.
+
+"Take them away!" she faltered, presently. "Take away--my children? Oh,
+Uncle John!"
+
+Mr. Montfort looked away, and smoked awhile in silence, giving the girl
+time to collect herself. Margaret struggled with the tears that wanted
+to rush to her eyes. She forced herself to take up the letters that lay
+in her lap and fold them methodically. When he saw that her hands
+trembled less, Mr. Montfort said, quietly, "The children have been a
+great deal of care to you, Margaret; but you have grown fond of them, I
+know, and so have I. I think a good deal of your judgment, my dear,
+young as you are. What would you like best to have done about the little
+people? Take time; take time! Anthony practically leaves the whole
+matter in my hands. In fact, I think he is puzzled, and feels perhaps
+that he has not done as well as he might for them always. Take time, my
+child."
+
+"Oh, I don't need any time, Uncle John!" cried Margaret, trying to speak
+steadily. "I--I didn't realise, I suppose--it has all come about so
+gradually--I didn't realise all that they were to me. To lose Basil and
+Susan D.,--I don't see how I can let them go, uncle; I don't indeed. You
+won't think me ungrateful, will you, dear? I was, oh, so happy, before
+they came; but now--they are so dear, so dear! and--and Susan D. is
+used to me, and to have her go to a stranger who might not understand
+the poor little shut-up nature--oh, how can I bear it? how can I bear
+it?"
+
+"Well, my dear," said Mr. Montfort, comfortably. "How if you did not
+have to bear it?"
+
+Then, as Margaret raised her startled eyes to his, he went on, in the
+kind, steady tone that always brought quiet and peace with it.
+
+"How if we made the present arrangement--part of it, at
+least--permanent? Let Merton go to his father; I should not care to have
+the bringing up of Merton. But there is an excellent school near here,
+on the island, to which Basil could go, staying the week and coming home
+here for Sunday; and if little Susan would not be too much care for
+you,--she's a dear little girl, once you get through the prickles,--why,
+May Margaret, it seems to me--"
+
+But Mr. Montfort got no further; for here was Margaret sobbing on his
+breast as if she were Rita herself, and calling him the best and
+dearest and kindest, and telling him that she was so happy, so happy;
+and that was why she was crying, only she could not stop; and so on and
+so on, till Uncle John really thought he should have to send for
+Frances. At his suggesting this, however, Margaret laughed through her
+tears, and presently struggled into something like composure.
+
+"And, after all," said Mr. Montfort, "how do you know the children will
+want to stay with you, you conceited young woman?"
+
+"Oh, Uncle John! I will teach Susan D. all I know, and a great deal
+more, I hope, for I shall be learning all the time now, if I have
+another coming after me. And we will keep house together, and it will be
+like the little sister, like little Penelope, Uncle John. And then to
+have Basil coming home every week, all full of school, and fun, and
+noise,--why, how perfectly delightful it will be! And I will not let
+them overrun you, dear uncle; they have been good lately, haven't
+they?"
+
+"They have been extremely good, my dear. All the same, I think you would
+do well to interview them on the subject, before you prepare all your
+chickens for the market. See, there are your two coming up the walk this
+moment. You might go--"
+
+But Margaret was already gone. Mr. Montfort watched her light figure
+flying down the walk, and thought she had grown almost back into a child
+again, since the children came. "And yet all a woman," he said; "all a
+sweet, wholesome, gentle woman. See her now with her arms around the
+child; the little creature clings to her as if she were the mother it
+never knew. Ah! she is telling them. No need to smother her, children. I
+never really meant to separate you; no, indeed. I only wanted you to
+find out for yourselves, as I have found out for myself. No more
+solitude at Fernley, please God; from now on, young faces and hearts,
+and sunshine, and a home; the future instead of the past."
+
+The good man laid down his cigar, quietly and carefully, as he did
+everything, and opened his arms as the three, Margaret and her
+children, came flying towards him; and they ran into those kind strong
+arms and nestled there, and looked into his eyes and knew that they were
+at home.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+"Queen Hildegarde" Series.
+
+By Laura E. Richards.
+
+
+HILDEGARDE'S HARVEST.
+
+The _fifth volume_ of the Hildegarde Series. Illustrated with eight
+full-page cuts. Square 16mo, cloth, $1.25.
+
+A new volume in the "Hildegarde" series, some of the best and most
+deservedly popular books for girls issued in recent years. This new
+volume is fully equal to its predecessors in point of interest, and is
+sure to renew the popularity of the entire series.
+
+
+HILDEGARDE'S NEIGHBORS.
+
+Fourth volume. Illustrated from original designs. Illustrated by L. J.
+Bridgman. Square 16mo, cloth, $1.25.
+
+
+HILDEGARDE'S HOME.
+
+Third volume. Illustrated with original designs by Merrill. Square 16mo,
+cloth, $1.25.
+
+
+HILDEGARDE'S HOLIDAY.
+
+Second volume. Illustrated with full-page plates by Copeland. Square
+16mo, cloth, $1.25.
+
+
+QUEEN HILDEGARDE.
+
+First volume. Illustrated from original designs by Garrett (292 pp.).
+Square 16mo, cloth, $1.25.
+
+"We would like to see the sensible, heroine-loving girl in her early
+teens who would not like this book. Not to like it would simply argue a
+screw loose somewhere."--_Boston Post._
+
+
+THE HILDEGARDE SERIES.
+
+as above. 5 vols., square 16mo, put up in a neat box, $6.25.
+
+***Next to Miss Alcott's famous "LITTLE WOMEN" series they easily rank,
+and no books that have appeared in recent times may be more safely put
+into the hands of a bright, intelligent girl than these five "Queen
+Hildegarde" books.
+
+Estes & Lauriat, Publishers, Boston.
+
+
+
+
+Other Books by Laura E. Richards.
+
+
+LOVE AND ROCKS.
+
+Tall 16mo, handsome cover design, etching frontispiece, $1.00.
+
+A charming story of one of the pleasant islands on the rugged Maine
+coast, told in the author's most graceful manner.
+
+
+WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE.
+
+Quarto, cloth, gilt top. Illustrated, $1.25.
+
+A series of papers which has already delighted the many readers of St.
+Nicholas, now revised and published in book form, with many additions.
+The title most happily introduces the reader to the charming home life
+of Dr. Howe and Mrs. Julia Ward Howe during the childhood of the author,
+and one is young again in reading the delightful sketches of happy child
+life in this most interesting family.
+
+
+GLIMPSES OF THE FRENCH COURT.
+
+Sketches from French History. Handsomely illustrated with a series of
+portraits in etching and photogravure. Square 12mo, cloth, neat cover
+design, gilt top, $1.50.
+
+
+SAME.
+
+_Handsomely bound in celluloid, boxed_, $2.00.
+
+The History of France, during the eighteenth century, is a
+treasure-house of romantic interest, from which the author has drawn a
+series of papers which will appeal to all who care for the picturesque
+in history. With true literary touch, she gives us the story of some of
+the salient figures of this remarkable period.
+
+Estes & Lauriat, Publishers, Boston.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
+
+Page 125, word "the" was inserted into the text (out of the window)
+
+Page 188, "year" changed to "years" (for thirty years)
+
+Page 226, "bother" changed to "bother" (want to bother her)
+
+Page 268, "scimetar" changed to "scimitar" (a scimitar in a)
+
+The asterism on used on the second to the last advertising page was
+changed to *** for this text version.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Margaret Montfort, by Laura E. Richards
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARGARET MONTFORT ***
+
+***** This file should be named 24828.txt or 24828.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/8/2/24828/
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/24828.zip b/24828.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6f84686
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24828.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b4d652a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #24828 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/24828)