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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fernley House, 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: Fernley House
+
+Author: Laura E. Richards
+
+Illustrator: Etheldred B. Barry
+
+Release Date: May 12, 2008 [EBook #25446]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FERNLEY HOUSE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+FERNLEY HOUSE
+
+
+
+
+BOOKS FOR GIRLS
+
+By Laura E. Richards
+
+
+_The_ MARGARET SERIES
+
+        Three Margarets
+        Margaret Montfort
+        Peggy
+        Rita
+        Fernley House
+
+
+_The_ HILDEGARDE SERIES
+
+        Queen Hildegarde
+        Hildegarde's Holiday
+        Hildegarde's Home
+        Hildegarde's Neighbors
+        Hildegarde's Harvest
+
+        DANA ESTES & COMPANY
+        Publishers
+        Estes Press, Summer St., Boston
+
+[Illustration: "HUGH AND MARGARET, ALL UNCONSCIOUS OF HER SCRUTINY, WERE
+ENJOYING THEMSELVES EXTREMELY."]
+
+
+
+
+FERNLEY HOUSE
+
+BY
+LAURA E. RICHARDS
+
+AUTHOR OF "CAPTAIN JANUARY," "MELODY," "QUEEN HILDEGARDE," "GEOFFREY
+STRONG," ETC.
+
+Illustrated by
+ETHELDRED B. BARRY
+
+[Illustration]
+
+        BOSTON
+        DANA ESTES & COMPANY
+        PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+        _Copyright, 1901_
+        BY DANA ESTES & COMPANY
+
+        _All rights reserved_
+
+        FERNLEY HOUSE
+
+        Colonial Press
+        Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
+        Boston, Mass., U.S.A.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  CHAPTER                                                           PAGE
+
+      I. A DUET                                                       11
+
+     II. MRS. PEYTON'S COMPANION                                      23
+
+    III. AN ARRIVAL                                                   33
+
+     IV. UNCLE JOHN'S IDEA                                            46
+
+      V. A VISION                                                     58
+
+     VI. ALI BABA                                                     70
+
+    VII. MORE ARRIVALS                                                86
+
+   VIII. HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF                                      100
+
+     IX. ABOUT NOTHING IN PARTICULAR                                 114
+
+      X. GRACE'S SYSTEM                                              128
+
+     XI. THE MYSTERIES OF FERNLEY                                    143
+
+    XII. THE EGG OF COLUMBUS                                         161
+
+   XIII. IN THE TWILIGHT                                             168
+
+    XIV. THE FIRE                                                    183
+
+     XV. JEWELS: AND AN AWAKENING                                    195
+
+    XVI. FOR AULD LANG SYNE                                          205
+
+   XVII. IN THE GARDEN                                               217
+
+  XVIII. UNCLE JOHN'S BIRTHDAY                                       225
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                                    PAGE
+  "HUGH AND MARGARET, ALL UNCONSCIOUS OF HER SCRUTINY,
+    WERE ENJOYING THEMSELVES EXTREMELY"                    _Frontispiece_
+
+  "MARGARET DID THE HONORS, STILL FEELING VERY SHY"                   29
+
+  "AT THIS MOMENT POLLY APPEARED, RED-CHEEKED AND BREATHLESS"         33
+
+  "SHE WAS A SLENDERER PEGGY, WITH THE SAME BLUE, HONEST EYES"        86
+
+  "SHE LOOKED UP, AND SAW GRACE SITTING ON A BROAD, LOW BRANCH"      137
+
+  "ON THE SECOND LANDING THEY PAUSED TO SALUTE THE OLD PORTRAITS"    148
+
+  "A TALL, SLENDER FIGURE HALF RAN, HALF TOTTERED INTO THE ROOM"     181
+
+  "'I PROPOSE . . . THE HEALTH OF THE BEST MAN . . . THAT LIVES
+    UPON THIS EARTH TO-DAY; . . . THE HEALTH OF MY UNCLE JOHN!'"     238
+
+
+
+
+FERNLEY HOUSE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+A DUET
+
+
+"Well, Margaret!"
+
+"Well, Uncle John!"
+
+"Not a word to throw at a dog, as Rosalind says?"
+
+"You are not a dog, Uncle John. Besides, you know all about it without
+my saying a word, so why should I be silly, and spoil your comfortable
+cigar? Dear children! They will have a delightful time, I hope; and of
+course it is perfectly right that they should go to their father when he
+wants them; and--the summer will pass quickly."
+
+"Very quickly!" Mr. Montfort assented, watching his smoke rings float
+upward.
+
+"And Peggy is coming; and--oh, we shall be all right, of course we
+shall; only--we do miss them, don't we, Uncle?"
+
+"I should think we did! A house is a poor place without children; and we
+flatter ourselves that our two--eh, Margaret?"
+
+"Oh, they are the dearest children in the world," said Margaret with
+conviction. "There is no possible doubt about that."
+
+She sighed, and took up her work; Mr. Montfort blew smoke rings and
+watched them melt into the air. There was an interval of sympathetic
+silence.
+
+The children, Basil and Susan D., Margaret's cousins, had hardly been
+gone two hours, yet the time seemed already long to Margaret Montfort.
+Fernley House, which only this morning had been so running over with joy
+and sunlight, and happy noise and bustle, seemed suddenly to have become
+a great empty barrack, full of nothing but silence. Margaret, after
+putting away, sadly enough, the things that the children had left about,
+had been glad to join her uncle on the pleasant back verandah that
+overlooked the garden.
+
+Fernley was in the full glory of early summer. The leaves were still
+young, and too soft to rustle in the gently moving air; the laburnums
+and honey-locusts were in blossom, and the bees came and went,
+heavy-laden. The sombre, trailing branches of the great Norway spruces
+touched the smooth green turf, starred here and there with English
+daisies. Farther back, the tulip-trees towered stately, and the elm
+branches swept the crest of the tall box hedges.
+
+Margaret's eyes kept wandering from her work. How could she stitch, when
+things were looking like this? There was the oriole, swinging on the
+bough beside his nest, pouring out his song, "Joy! joy! joy!" The eggs
+might be hatched to-day. Basil had begged her to promise that she would
+let neither cat nor squirrel meddle with the young birds. What should
+she do, if she saw a cat up there, forty feet from the ground? Dear
+Basil! he never could understand why she could not climb trees as well
+as he and Susan D. Dear Basil! dearest of boys! how nice he looked in
+his new blue suit; and who would mend the first "barndoor" that he tore
+in jacket or trousers?
+
+And little Susan D.! the warm clasp of her arms seemed still about
+Margaret's neck, in that last strangling hug of parting. She had grown
+so dear, the little silent child! "I will be good," she whispered.
+"Cousin Margaret, I will try not to die without you, and I will remember
+the things you told me about papa; but don't make me stay very long,
+because I haven't got enough goodness to last very long, you know I
+haven't."
+
+Margaret was roused from her reverie by her uncle's voice.
+
+"When did you say Peggy was coming, my dear?"
+
+"Next week, Uncle John. School closes on the eighteenth. Dear little
+Peggy! think of her being a senior! it seems hardly possible. She is
+afraid I shall tell her to put her hair up; I certainly shall not, at
+least while she is here. I am sure you prefer the pigtail, don't you,
+Uncle John?"
+
+"Yes! oh, yes!" said Mr. Montfort, abstractedly. "Pigtail--yes, by all
+means. And how will you and Peggy amuse yourselves, my dear? No Rita
+this summer to electrify us all. You will not find it dull?"
+
+"Dull, Uncle John? how could Fernley possibly be dull? Why, Peggy and I
+are going to be as happy as possible. I have all kinds of plans made.
+You see, it is time Peggy was learning something about housekeeping and
+that sort of thing, and I thought this summer would be the very best
+time to show her a little. Of course, when she is at home, she wants to
+be doing twenty thousand things on the farm, just as she always has
+done, and the time goes so quickly, she has not begun to think yet about
+the indoor things; so I am going to be the Humdrum-major, Uncle, and
+give her some lessons; if you approve, that is."
+
+"Highly, my dear, highly. Every woman should be able to take care of her
+own house, and the only way for her to learn is to begin upon some one
+else's. I should think Peggy might make a vigorous little housekeeper,
+if a chaotic one. Don't let her loose in the library, Margaret, that is
+my only prayer."
+
+"Uncle John, I really do believe that you think housekeeping consists
+entirely in dusting and setting things to wrongs, as you call it."
+
+"Well, my love, I confess that has always seemed to me a prime element
+in the art. But I also confess my ignorance, and the depth and darkness
+thereof. Am I humble enough? Now I must go and take the puppies for an
+airing. Till dinner-time, May Margaret!"
+
+Mr. Montfort strolled away, and Margaret bent with renewed energy over
+her work, giving herself a little shake as she did so. Her uncle's words
+still sounded in her ears: "You will not find it dull?" She had answered
+out of the fulness of her heart, thinking it impossible that dulness
+should come where Uncle John was, especially as he happened to be at
+Fernley House, the most enchanting place in the world. Yet--and yet--it
+was going to be very, very different, of course, from the life of the
+past year, so filled full and running over with delight. It was not only
+that she missed the children; it was that in the care of them, the
+watching over the growing bodies and the eager minds, she was learning
+so much herself, feeling the world grow, almost hourly, bigger and
+brighter and sweeter. The mother-nature was strong in Margaret Montfort,
+and the children were bringing out all that was best and strongest in
+her. Well, she must do without that now for awhile; and there was no
+doubt that the prospect seemed a little flat, even with Peggy to
+brighten it. Dear Peggy! Margaret loved her fondly; but she was so grown
+up now, so strong herself, so helpful and self-reliant, that there was
+no question of taking care of her any more. "Why, she knows twenty times
+as much as I do," said Margaret, "about most things, except history. I
+don't suppose she will ever remember the difference between Mary Stuart
+and Mary Tudor. But, foolish creature," cried Margaret to herself, "what
+have you just been saying to Uncle John? Here is all the world of
+housekeeping, about which Peggy knows little or nothing, and which,
+thanks to Elizabeth and Frances, you do begin to understand a little. Is
+it a small thing, I ask you, to teach the qualities and fine shades of
+damask, and the high-lights of huckaback? or the different cuts of meat,
+and when what is in season? I am ashamed of you, Margaret Montfort! And
+then there are the puppies, too! Don't let me hear another word of
+dulness from you, miss, do you hear? Perhaps you would like to be
+weaving cotton in a factory this heavenly day, or selling yards of hot
+stuffs in a shop? Go away!" and Margaret shook her head severely, and
+was surprised at herself.
+
+The puppies were two fine young setters, Nip and Tuck by name, which the
+wise uncle had bought on purpose to soften the blow of the parting with
+the children. Margaret had never known dogs before, and though Messrs.
+Nip and Tuck were being strictly trained, and had to spend much of their
+time in the stable-yard, she still had many a pleasant half-hour with
+them, when her uncle took them for a run over hill and dale, or gave
+them a lesson in the garden. Her one anxiety was lest they should meet
+the Queen of Sheba, her great Angora cat, and there should be trouble;
+for the Queen was a person of decided temper. Margaret had taken
+infinite pains, ever since the arrival of the puppies, to keep them out
+of one another's sight; but Mr. Montfort warned her that she was merely
+putting off the inevitable, and that the day must come when cat and dogs
+should meet.
+
+It seemed a little hard that this meeting must take place when the
+master was not present; but the finger of Fate pointed, and at this very
+moment, while Margaret was sitting with her peaceful thoughts, Michael,
+the stable-boy, chanced to drop the leash in which he was leading the
+puppies to their master. Three minutes later, Nip and Tuck were
+careering wildly around Margaret, leaping on her with frantic caresses,
+and talking both at once, and very loud, as dear dogs will sometimes do.
+
+"Down, Nip!" cried Margaret. "Tucky, do behave yourself. Now, boys,
+however did you get away? Charge, do, like dear boys, and wait for the
+master; he will be here in a minute."
+
+Nip and Tuck explained breathlessly that they had just got out by the
+luckiest chance in the world, that they loved her to distraction, and
+that, upon the whole, they preferred her society to that of any one else
+in the world, if only she would let them lick her nose. This Margaret
+firmly refused to do, and they lay down panting for a moment, but only
+for a moment. Again the finger of Fate pointed; and so it came to pass
+that as Mr. Montfort came round one corner in search of his run-aways,
+the Queen of Sheba came round the other. There seemed but one white
+flash as the two puppies, recognizing their destiny on the instant, flew
+to meet it, yelling like demons of the pit.
+
+"Oh, Uncle John!" cried Margaret, starting up in distress. "My poor
+Queen! my poor Sheba! they will--"
+
+"I wouldn't worry, Margaret," said Mr. Montfort. "Sheba can take care of
+herself, if I am not greatly mistaken."
+
+The great cat stiffened herself into a bristling bow, and waited the
+charge with gleaming eyes. The dogs' frenzied rush carried them within a
+foot of her whiskers, and there they stopped. This was not what they had
+looked for. They had seen cats before, and had chased them, with
+infinite joy; their mother had taught them that cats were made to be
+chased, with a special eye to the healthful amusement of good little
+dogs. But this furry, glaring creature, radiating power and
+menace,--could this be a cat?
+
+Nip and Tuck put their heads on one side and considered. The Queen of
+Sheba advanced one step, slowly; the puppies retired, too, and sat down,
+wagging their tails. Perhaps, after all, it was a kind of dog; their
+minds were cheerfully open to new impressions, and they were full of
+good will toward all creation. Perceiving their innocence, the Queen of
+Sheba, who had seen many generations of puppies, lowered her warlike
+arch, and, sitting down opposite them, proceeded to wash herself
+elaborately. Nip and Tuck looked on with open-mouthed admiration.
+Presently Tuck, who was a bold dog, gave a short bark of decision, and,
+stepping forward, began with infinite politeness to assist in the
+washing. Sheba received the attention with regal condescension. Five
+minutes later, all three walked off together, rubbing sides cordially,
+and presumably in quest of rats.
+
+Margaret drew a long breath. "Did you ever see anything like that?" she
+cried. "Look, Uncle John; they are talking to one another; you can
+almost hear the words. Isn't it wonderful?"
+
+"Very pretty," said Mr. Montfort. "Now they'll be friends for life,
+you'll see. Sheba will be of great assistance in their education. It
+takes an intelligent cat to understand puppies, and Sheba is a
+remarkably intelligent cat. Well, May Margaret, and now shall we take
+our four-legged children for a walk?"
+
+"Oh, Uncle John, I was so afraid you were not going to ask me! Will you
+wait just half a minute while I get my hat? and on the way back I will
+stop and see Mrs. Peyton. I have not been there since the dogs came or
+the children went, and I ought to be ashamed."
+
+Margaret ran up-stairs lightly, saying to herself as she ran, "Dull,
+with that man? and Peggy and the puppies beside? Margaret Montfort, I
+_am_ ashamed of you!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+MRS. PEYTON'S COMPANION
+
+
+"Dear me!" said Mrs. Peyton. "Here is Patience, down off her monument,
+come all this way to smile at Grief! I am Grief, my dear; allow me to
+introduce myself. Well, Margaret, and how do you get on without your
+brats--I beg pardon! I mean your pets?"
+
+"As well as could be expected," said Margaret, lightly, as she stooped
+to kiss the ivory forehead. Mrs. Peyton was charming, but one did not
+confide one's troubles to her. "We are behaving beautifully, Mrs. Peyton.
+Not only have we dried our tears and hung our pocket-handkerchiefs
+out to dry, but we have set up some new pets already."
+
+"Not more children? Not another set of 'The Orphans of Fernley,' bound
+in blue denim? That would be unendurable."
+
+"No; four-legged pets this time. We have two dogs, Mrs. Peyton;
+beautiful Gordon setters. I hope you are fond of dogs."
+
+"Oh!--dogs? Yes, I like dogs. As a rule I like them better than
+two-legged torments. You are a two-legged torment, Margaret, when you
+move about the room in that exasperatingly light-footed manner. I don't
+suppose you actually do it to make me feel my helplessness, but it has
+that effect. Do sit down! you are not a bird. And don't, for pity's
+sake, look patient! If there is one thing I cannot abide, it is to see
+people look patient when I insult them. If I had only known--but John
+Montfort always did like to thwart me, it's his nature--if I had only
+known, I say, that those brats of yours were going away, I need not have
+set up a menagerie of my own. It's too late now, the creature's coming."
+
+"What do you mean, Mrs. Peyton?" asked Margaret, always prepared for any
+whim of her whimsical neighbor. "Are you setting up a dog too?"
+
+"No! nothing half so comfortable as a dog. A fox, or wolf, or hyena, or
+something of that kind. Don't be stupid, Margaret; I am not up to
+explanations to-day. A companion, simpleton! A Miss Fox or Miss Wolfe, I
+can't remember which. I don't _think_ it was Miss Hyena, but it might
+be. It's an unusual name, but she is recommended as an unusual person."
+
+"Mrs. Peyton! you said you never would try it again. And you know I am
+always ready to come and read to you."
+
+"I know you are a little Fra Angelico angel, with your halo laid in your
+top bureau drawer among your collars, for fear people should see it; but
+I have a little scrap of conscience about me somewhere,--not much, only
+about a saltspoonful,--and if you came every day it would get up and
+worry me, and I can't be worried. Besides, the doctor ordered it,
+positively."
+
+"Doctor Flower? has he been out again?"
+
+"Yes, he came on Monday. I thought I was going to die, and wanted him to
+see how prettily I should do it. I'll never send for him again; he
+always tells me to get up and do things. Tiresome man! I told him I was
+perfectly exhausted by simply listening to him for half an hour. He
+replied by ordering this Miss Fox, or whoever she is. I am to try her
+for a month; I sha'n't probably keep her a week."
+
+"A nurse?"
+
+"No, not a trained nurse. She means to be one, goes to the hospital in
+the autumn. He thinks she has a gift, or something. I detest people with
+a gift. Probably she has a squint, too. You will have to receive her
+when she comes, Margaret, and take the edge off her. I fancy her
+unendurable, but I promised to try; I really must be going to die, I am
+growing so amiable. Which of my gems do you want? I am going to make my
+will this time. You needn't laugh, Margaret Montfort."
+
+"I was laughing at your dying of amiability, Mrs. Peyton!" said
+Margaret. "When is this young lady--I suppose she is young, if she is
+going to study nursing--when is she coming?"
+
+"To-morrow, I believe; or is it to-day? where is the note? Tuesday! Is
+this Tuesday? It cannot be."
+
+"Yes, this is Tuesday, and the three o'clock train--I suppose that is
+the train she will come by--must be in by this time. Hark! there are
+wheels this moment. Can she be coming now, Mrs. Peyton?"
+
+"My dear, it would be exactly like the conception I have formed of her.
+Go down and see her, will you, Margaret? Tell her I have a headache, or
+Asiatic cholera, or anything you like. I cannot possibly see her to-day.
+Her name is Fox--or Wolfe, I can't remember which. Bless you, child! you
+save my life. Show her the Calico Room. Hand me the amethyst rope before
+you go; I must compose my nerves."
+
+With a smile and a sigh, Margaret ran down-stairs, and met the newcomer
+on the doorstep. A tall, pale, grave-looking girl, with deep-set blue
+eyes, and smooth bands of brown hair--a rather remarkable-looking
+person, Margaret thought.
+
+"Miss Fox?" she said, hurriedly, holding out her hand. "Oh, how do you
+do? Pray come in. Mrs. Peyton asked me to receive you,--I am a friend
+and neighbor,--and show you your room and make you comfortable. She has
+a bad headache, and does not feel able to welcome you herself."
+
+She led the way into the dining-room, and rang the bell. "You will have
+lunch?" she said, "or would you rather have tea?"
+
+"Tea, please," said the stranger; and her voice had a deep, musical
+note, that fell pleasantly on Margaret's ear.
+
+"I am sorry Mrs. Peyton is unable to see me. Is it a real headache, or
+doesn't she want to?"
+
+Margaret colored and hesitated. The blue eyes looked straight into hers
+with a compelling gaze; a gleam of comprehension seemed to lurk in their
+depths. Margaret was absolutely truthful, and, consequently, was
+sometimes at a loss when speaking of her invalid friend.
+
+"Doctor Flower told me somewhat about her," Miss Fox went on. "He
+thinks--he wants me to rouse her to effort."
+
+She spoke so quietly, her whole air was one of such calm and repose,
+that Margaret looked at her wonderingly.
+
+[Illustration: "MARGARET DID THE HONORS, STILL FEELING VERY SHY."]
+
+"If Doctor Flower has explained the case to you," she said, at last,
+"you probably know more about it than I do. Mrs. Peyton often seems to
+suffer a great deal. She is fanciful, too, no doubt, at times; I
+suppose most invalids are."
+
+"I have just been staying with a woman who had had both feet cut off by
+a train," said Miss Fox, tranquilly. "She was not fanciful."
+
+It was a relief when the tea came. Margaret did the honors, still
+feeling very shy, she could not tell why, before this grave person, who
+could not be more than a year or two older than herself.
+
+"Have you come far to-day, Miss Fox?" she asked, for the sake of saying
+something. The stranger put her head on one side, and gave her a quaint
+look. "Any addition to one's personal menagerie is always interesting,"
+she said; "but one has one's favorites in the Zoo. If it is not taking a
+liberty--why Fox?"
+
+Margaret started, and blushed violently. "I _beg_ your pardon," she
+said. "Mrs. Peyton was not sure--she could not remember--is it Miss
+Wolfe, then? I hope you will forgive me, Miss Wolfe!"
+
+"Please don't," said Miss Wolfe. She smiled for the first time, and
+Margaret thought she had never seen so sweet a smile. "It is not your
+fault that I am philologically quadruped, surely. So long as I am not
+called Zebra, I really don't mind. I always associate Zebra with Zany,
+don't you know? they were in my Alphabet together. But you were saying
+something which I was rude enough to interrupt."
+
+"I only asked if you had come far."
+
+"Not very far, if you put it in miles; only from New York; if you mean
+by impressions, a thousand leagues. It is at least that from that
+maelstrom to this quiet green place. How should one have nerves in a
+place like this? To sit here in peace and turn slowly into a
+lettuce--that would be the natural thing; but life is not natural, if
+you have observed."
+
+Margaret laughed. "Mrs. Peyton is certainly not in the least like a
+lettuce; I don't know whether you see any signs of the change in me; I
+have only been here two years, though."
+
+Miss Wolfe surveyed her critically. "N--no!" she said, slowly. "I see
+nothing indicating lettuce--as yet. You are cool and green--no offence,
+I hope! I pay you one of the highest compliments I know of when I call
+you green; it is the color of rest and harmony; cool and green enough,
+and pleasantly wavy in your lines, but you have too much expression as
+yet, far too much. Placidity--absence of emotion--that is what
+superinduces the lettuce habit." She waved her hand gracefully, and
+seemed to fall into a reverie. Margaret surveyed her in growing wonder.
+
+At this moment Mrs. Peyton's bell rang violently; and presently a maid
+appeared to say that her mistress was feeling better, and would see the
+lady now. Miss Wolfe rose and glanced significantly at Margaret.
+"Curiosity overcomes distaste!" she said. "Are you coming?"
+
+"No," said Margaret. "I think I'd better not. I will slip away quietly.
+But I shall see you soon again. I will run over this evening, perhaps;
+and you must come over to Fernley whenever Mrs. Peyton can spare you. It
+is very near, just across the park."
+
+"Fernley!" repeated Miss Wolfe, pausing and looking at Margaret with an
+altered expression.
+
+"Fernley House, Mr. Montfort's place. That is where I live. Why--I have
+never introduced myself all this time, have I? I am Mr. Montfort's
+niece; my name is Montfort, too, Margaret Montfort."
+
+"Oh, my prophetic soul! my aunt!" exclaimed Miss Wolfe. "I beg your
+pardon; nothing of the sort. I am somewhat mad at times. Good morning,
+Miss Montfort; I am glad to know you. To be continued in our next!"
+
+She nodded, kissed her hand gravely to Margaret, and turning, followed
+the maid up-stairs.
+
+Margaret looked after her for a moment in amazement. "What a _very_
+extraordinary girl!" she said. "She seemed to know my name. I wonder
+how."
+
+She paused, shook her head, then went soberly home across the park,
+wondering how the new venture would turn out.
+
+[Illustration: "AT THIS MOMENT POLLY APPEARED RED-CHEEKED AND
+BREATHLESS."]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+AN ARRIVAL
+
+
+"What can the dogs be barking at, Elizabeth?" asked Margaret, looking up
+from the table-cloth she was examining. "I'm afraid they have got a
+squirrel again."
+
+"I thought I heard the sound of wheels, Miss," said the sedate
+Elizabeth, who had just entered, her arms full of shining damask. "Just
+as I was coming up the stairs, Miss Margaret. I told Polly run and see
+who it was, and send 'em away if they was a tramp. It do be mostly
+tramps, these days; Frances says she'll poison the next one, Miss, but
+she always feeds 'em so as they go off and send all their friends."
+
+At this moment Polly appeared, red-cheeked and breathless. A gentleman
+was below, asking for Mr. Montfort, and she couldn't find Mr. Montfort
+nowhere in the house; so then he said could he see Miss Margaret?
+
+"Is it any one I know, Polly?" asked Margaret.
+
+"I don't know, Miss Marget; I niver see him. A lame gentleman with a
+crutch; he looks just lovely!" added Polly, with effusion.
+
+"Miss Margaret didn't ask you how he looked, Polly!" said Elizabeth,
+severely. "You let your tongue run away with you."
+
+"Tell him I will be down directly, Polly," said Margaret.
+
+"Now, Miss Margaret, do you think you'd better?" asked Elizabeth. "If
+it's not a tramp--"
+
+"Indeed, and he's no tramp!" broke in Polly, indignantly. "He's a
+gentleman, if ever I see one, Miss Margaret; and him in lovely white
+clothes and all, just like young Mr. Pennyfeather as was here last
+year."
+
+"Polly, will you learn to speak when you are spoken to, and not
+interrupt your elders?" demanded Elizabeth. "If he's not a tramp, I was
+saying, Miss Margaret, he's likely an agent of some kind, and why
+should you be annoyed, with all the linen to go over? He can call again,
+most likely."
+
+Elizabeth spoke with some feeling under her grave and restrained words.
+The examination of the house-linen was to her mind the most important
+event of the week, and already they had been disturbed once by a sudden
+incursion of the dogs, bringing a dead squirrel.
+
+"No, Elizabeth," said Margaret, "I must go down. Tell the gentleman I
+will be down directly, Polly; show him into the library, please. Dear
+Elizabeth, you can finish the table-cloths just as well without me. You
+always did it before I came."
+
+"Not at all, Miss," said Elizabeth, with patient resignation; "you'll
+find me in the sewing-room, Miss, whenever you are ready for me. It's
+best that you should go over the things yourself, and then you will be
+satisfied, and no mistakes made."
+
+Margaret nodded, with a little inward sigh over the rigidity of
+Elizabeth's ideal of a perfect housekeeper; patted her hair hurriedly to
+make sure that it was neat, confirmed the pat by a glance in the
+mirror, and went quickly down-stairs.
+
+A tall, slender figure rose, leaning on a stick, as she entered the
+library. "What a sad face!" was Margaret's first thought; but, when the
+stranger smiled, it changed to "What a beautiful one!"
+
+"Cousin Margaret?" said the young man, inquiringly.
+
+"Yes--I am Margaret," said the girl. "But who--oh! are you--can it be
+Peggy's Hugh? It is, I see. Oh, how do you do, Cousin? I am so very,
+very glad to see you."
+
+They shook hands cordially, scanning each other with earnest and
+friendly eyes.
+
+"I should have known you, of course, from your picture, if not from
+Peggy's ardent descriptions," said Hugh Montfort.
+
+"And I ought to have known you, surely," cried Margaret; "only, not
+knowing you were in this part of the country, you see--"
+
+"Uncle John did not get my letter? It ought to have reached him some
+days ago. I was coming on to Cambridge, and wrote as soon as I started.
+No wonder you were surprised, being hailed as cousin by an unheralded
+vagabond with a stick."
+
+"Oh, why do you stand?" cried Margaret. "Sit down, Cousin Hugh; to think
+of its being really you; I have wanted to see and know you ever
+since--oh, for ever so long. Hark! there comes Uncle John now. How
+delighted he will be!"
+
+"Margaret, my dear!" called Mr. Montfort from the hall. "I have just had
+a letter--most surprising thing--from--hallo! what's all this? Hugh, my
+dear fellow, I'm delighted to see you. Got here before your letter, eh?
+How did that happen? Never mind, so long as you are here now. Well,
+well, well! sit down here, and let me look at you. This is a pleasure
+indeed. Your father's eyes; I should know them in a Chinaman; not that
+you look like a Chinaman. How are they all at home? How's your father?
+When did you leave home? Have you had anything to eat? What would you
+like? Margaret, my dear, get Hugh something to eat, he's probably
+starved."
+
+Hugh laughingly disclaimed starvation, and begged to wait till their
+tea-time. "I am not hungry, truly I am not," he said. "There is so much
+to say, too, isn't there, Uncle John? Father is very well and hearty. I
+have a pipe for you in my bag. I brought a bag with me; do you suppose
+you could put me up for a few days, Uncle?"
+
+Reassured by Mr. Montfort's earnest assurance that he should keep him
+all summer, Hugh leaned back in his chair, and looked about him with
+eager eyes.
+
+"This is the library!" he said. "Uncle John, ever since I learned to
+read, one of my dreams has been to see this room. Father has always told
+us about it, and where his favorite books were, and where you all used
+to sit when you came here to read."
+
+He rose and, crossing the room, took a book from a shelf without a
+moment's hesitation. "Here is the 'Morte d'Arthur,'" he said; "you see I
+knew where to find it. And Father used to sit on top of that
+stepladder."
+
+"So he did!" cried Mr. Montfort, delighted. "I can see him now, with one
+leg curled under him, eating apples and shouting about Lancelot and
+Tristram."
+
+"And you sat in the great copper coal-hod--ah! there it is!--and read
+Froissart, the great folio with the colored prints. I see it, just in
+the place father described."
+
+"Uncle John," said Margaret, reproachfully, "you never told me that you
+sat in the coal-scuttle. I know papa's perch, the mantel-piece, because
+he could get at the little Shakespeares from there."
+
+Mr. Montfort laughed.
+
+"Leave me some remnant of dignity, Meg," he said. "How can you expect me
+to confess that I sat in the coal-scuttle? Have you no reverence for
+gray hairs?"
+
+"Oh, a very great deal, dear Uncle; but there were no gray hairs in the
+coal-scuttle days; and my only regret about you is the not having known
+you when you were a boy."
+
+"Horrid monkey, I have been given to understand," said her uncle,
+lightly. "Go on, Hugh; tell us some more of the things that Jim--your
+father--remembers. Old Jim! it's a great shame that he never comes to
+look up the old place himself."
+
+"It is indeed, sir!" said Hugh. "I've always thought so, and now that I
+see the place--oh, I shall send him, that's all, as soon as ever I get
+home. There are the Indian clubs; oh, the carved one--is it true that
+that was given to Grandfather Montfort by a Fiji chief, or was the Pater
+fooling us? He sometimes makes up things, he acknowledges, just for the
+fun of it."
+
+"True enough, I believe!" said Mr. Montfort, taking down the great club,
+covered from end to end with strange and delicate carving.
+
+"Did he ever tell you how near he came to breaking my head with this
+club? He may have forgotten; I have not. We used to keep it in our room,
+the great nursery up-stairs, Margaret; you must show that to Hugh by and
+by. I woke up one night, and was afraid the crow that I was taming in
+the back garden might be hungry. I got out of the window and shinned
+down the spout. The crow was all right; but when I came back, Jim woke
+up, and took me for a burglar, and went for me with the club, thinking
+it the chance of his life. I was only half-way through the bars when he
+caught me a crack--I can hear my skull rattle with it now."
+
+"Oh, Uncle John! and you held on?"
+
+"My dear, I held on; it would have been rather unfortunate for me to let
+go at the moment. I sung out, of course; and when I got through I fell
+upon my friend James, and Roger had to wake up and come and drag us from
+under the bed before he could separate us. Sweet boys! do you and your
+brothers indulge in these little endearments, Hugh? Jim was a glorious
+fighter."
+
+Hugh laughed. "Jim and George used to have pretty lively scraps
+sometimes," he said. "It wasn't so much in my line, but I took it out in
+airs, I fancy. The poor fellows couldn't punch my head, and it must have
+been hard lines for them sometimes. As for Max and Peter, they are
+twins, you know. I doubt if either of them knows exactly which is
+himself and which is the other, so they don't have real scraps, just
+puppy-play, rolling over and over and pounding each other."
+
+"Oh, what good times they would have with Basil and Susan D.!" cried
+Margaret. "What a pity they cannot know one another, all these dear
+boys!"
+
+"So it is! so it is!" said Mr. Montfort, heartily. "We must bring it
+about, one of these days; we must surely bring it about. Fond of dogs,
+Hugh? I've got a pair of nice puppies here; like to go and see them
+before tea, or shall Margaret show you your room?"
+
+Hugh elected in favor of the puppies, and uncle and nephew walked off
+together, well content. Margaret looked after them, thinking what a
+noble pair they made. Hugh walked lame, to be sure, yet not
+ungracefully, she thought; and though slender, still his shoulders were
+square and manly.
+
+Then her thoughts turned to matters of practical hospitality, and she
+sped to the kitchen, to tell the good news to Frances.
+
+"Oh, Frances, Mr. Hugh has come, my Uncle Jim's son; Miss Peggy's
+brother, Frances! He has come all the way from Ohio, and I want you to
+give him the very best supper that ever was, please!"
+
+Now Frances had that moment discovered that her best porcelain saucepan
+was cracked; she therefore answered with some asperity. "Indeed, then,
+Miss Margaret, what is good enough for Mr. Montfort must be good enough
+for his nephew or any other young gentleman. My supper is all planned,
+and I can't be fashed with new things at this time of day."
+
+"Now, Frances, don't be cross, that's a dear! I want you to see Mr.
+Hugh. Look, there he is this minute, crossing the green with Uncle
+John."
+
+Frances looked; looked again, long and earnestly; then straightway she
+fell into a great bustle. "Dear me, Miss Margaret, run away now, that's
+a good young lady. How can I be doing, and you all about the kitchen
+like a ball of string? He's lame, the beautiful young gentleman; you
+never told me he was lame. I did think as how we might be doing with the
+cold fowl, and French fried potatoes and muffins, but that's nothing to
+show the heart. Run away now, Miss, and if you was going up-stairs, be
+so good as send me Polly. She's idling her time away, I'll be bound, and
+not a soul to help me with my salad and croquettes. Dear! dear! I be
+pestered out of my life, mostly."
+
+"Don't kill us, Frances!" cried Margaret, as she ran away, laughing. "I
+really think the cold fowl will be quite enough."
+
+Frances deigned no reply; and Margaret hastened up-stairs, to tell the
+good news to Elizabeth. Elizabeth was in the sewing-room, waiting, with
+plaintive dignity, till Margaret should please to go over the rest of
+the table-cloths; but at the tidings of the advent of a dear and honored
+guest, she dropped thimble and scissors, and rose hastily, declaring
+that the Blue Room must be cleaned instantly, and put in order for Mr.
+Montfort's nephew.
+
+"But you swept it yesterday, Elizabeth, and I dusted all the ornaments
+myself, and put them back in place. It only needs a few fresh flowers, I
+am sure," said Margaret.
+
+Elizabeth turned on her a face of affectionate reproach. "Miss Margaret,
+you don't mean that. Mr. Montfort's own nephew, and the room not touched
+to-day! I'll go this minute and see to it. But if you would pick out the
+towels you think he would like best, Miss, please; gentlemen do be that
+fussy about towels, as there's no pleasing some of them, though being
+Mr. Montfort's nephew, likely he'll be different. Give him the finest
+huckaback, and Mr. Montfort is easy satisfied, so long as there's no
+fringes. He never could abide fringe to his towels, and there's no
+person with sense as wouldn't agree with him. And if you would see to
+the bureau-scarf and the flowers, Miss Margaret--there! she's gone, and
+not a word about what table-napkins I am to use! I like to see them
+young, so I do, but they're terrible heedless. I expect I'd best put the
+finest out, for Mr. Montfort's nephew."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+UNCLE JOHN'S IDEA
+
+
+"Margaret, I have an idea!"
+
+"I am so glad, Uncle John; your ideas are always pleasant ones,
+especially when they make your eyes twinkle. Is this about more dogs?"
+
+"No, no, child. Do you think I have no soul except for dogs? I was
+thinking--why, you see,--this is a delightful fellow, this nephew of
+mine."
+
+"Isn't he, Uncle? I never saw a more interesting person, I think. How
+well he talks, and how much he knows!"
+
+"Yes, and right-minded, too; singularly right-minded. Jim has done well,
+certainly, by his children, and is very fortunate in them. H'm! yes. Who
+would have thought, thirty years ago, that things would have turned out
+in this way? Old Jim!"
+
+Here Mr. Montfort fell into a brown study, and only roused himself after
+some time, to ask Margaret what were her orders for the day.
+
+"Why, Uncle John! And you have never told me your idea."
+
+"Bless me! so I haven't. Age, my dear child, age! Such a fine idea as it
+is, too. Listen, then! as I was saying, Hugh Montfort is a charming
+fellow."
+
+"Yes, Uncle John."
+
+"And Peggy Montfort is a charming girl."
+
+"Certainly she is. Dear Peggy!"
+
+"We may not unreasonably infer, therefore, that other members of the
+family may be charming also. Now, my idea is this. Peggy is not going
+home this summer; why would it not be a good plan to send for her
+nearest sister--Jean, isn't she?--to come here and meet her brother and
+sister, and all have a good time together? What do you say?"
+
+"Uncle John! I say that you are the very cleverest person in the world,
+as well as the dearest."
+
+"A little house-party, you see," Mr. Montfort went on, beaming with
+pleasure at the delight that shone in Margaret's face. "And--we shall
+want another lad, it seems to me, possibly two lads. Why not ask young
+Merryweather and his brother for a couple of weeks? You liked the young
+fellow?"
+
+"Oh, certainly, Uncle John!" Margaret suddenly became interested in
+tying up the Crimson Rambler that was straying over the verandah-rail.
+"Yes, indeed, I thought him very nice."
+
+"And you like the idea? You don't think it would make too much work, too
+much responsibility, my dear little niece?"
+
+Margaret was still busy with the rose, which proved quite refractory,
+but it was clear that she thought nothing of the sort. It would be
+altogether delightful, she said; and as for care--why, she had been
+longing for something to take her mind off missing the children, and--
+
+"And to see Jean, too!" she cried, suddenly emerging from the rose-vine,
+with an unusual flush on her delicate cheek, and her gray eyes shining;
+"I have always wanted so to know the other Peggypods, as you call them,
+Uncle John; and now to have Hugh here, and Jean coming--oh, Uncle John,
+you are _so_ dear!"
+
+"Then that is all right," said Uncle John; "and I will go and telegraph
+to old Jim and tell him to send the little girl along. Shall we tell
+Peggy, or leave it for a surprise, eh? What do you say?"
+
+"The surprise, by all means; Peggy loves a surprise, you know. Oh, how
+can I wait a whole week to see her?"
+
+Mr. Montfort looked with pleasure at Margaret's sparkling eyes and rosy
+cheeks. He had hit on the right thing, evidently. Young people wanted
+young people; didn't he remember well enough--here he fell into a muse
+again, and said "Rose!" to himself two or three times. Perhaps he was
+thinking of the Crimson Rambler.
+
+"Now, about rooms!" he said, waking up after a few minutes. "And we must
+get more help, Margaret. Frances--"
+
+"I'll tell Elizabeth first, I think," said Margaret, thoughtfully. "She
+has a way of breaking things gradually to Frances, and taking the edge
+off them; she is really very clever about it."
+
+"Elizabeth is a treasure," said Mr. Montfort. "So is Frances, of
+course, a treasure--only with dragon attachment."
+
+"And as for the room, Uncle John--let me see! Peggy's own room is big
+enough for her and Jean, and I am quite sure they would like to be
+together. Then there are the two little east rooms that are very
+pleasant--or we could give the two Mr. Merryweathers the big nursery."
+
+"That's it!" said Mr. Montfort, decidedly. "Boys like the nursery; it
+was made for boys. Nothing breakable in it except the crockery, and
+plenty of room for skylarking. Yes, my dear, get the nursery ready for
+them--if they come!" he added. "We are counting our chickens in fine
+style, Margaret. Suppose we find that Jean is in San Francisco and the
+Merryweathers in Alaska."
+
+"Oh, they won't be!" cried Margaret. "They wouldn't have the heart to
+spoil our party. I have read about house-parties all my life, and to
+think that I am going to have one! Why, it is a fairy tale, Uncle John."
+
+"So it is, my dear; so it is. You are the fairy princess, and I am the
+old magician--or the bear, if you like better, that used to be a prince
+when he was young."
+
+"The king that used to be a bear would be more like it," said Margaret,
+gaily. "How about John Strong, Mr. Montfort?"
+
+"John Strong was a useful fellow!" said her uncle, gravely. "I had a
+regard for John; he is getting lazy now, and rheumatic besides, and he
+neglects his roses shamefully, but there are still points about John.
+Bring me my old hat, and the pruning-shears, and you shall see him in
+the flesh, Miss Margaret."
+
+Margaret enjoyed nothing more than what she called a "rose-potter" with
+her uncle. He was never weary of tending his favorite flowers, and
+handled and spoke of them as if they were real persons. Coming now to
+join him, with the great shears, and the faithful old straw hat in
+which, as John Strong the gardener, she had first seen the beloved
+uncle, she found him bending over a beautiful "La France" with anxious
+looks.
+
+"My dear, this lovely person is not looking well to-day. Something is
+wrong with her."
+
+"Oh, Uncle, I am sorry. She had her bath last night, I know, for I gave
+it to her myself. What do you think is the matter? To me, she looks as
+silvery-lovely as usual; but you have a special pair of eyes, I know,
+for roses."
+
+"I fear--I think--ah! here he is, the beast! Yes, Margaret; a
+caterpillar, curled up--see him! Right in the heart of this exquisite
+bud. No wonder the whole plant has sickened; she is very sensitive, La
+France. There, Madame, he is gone. Now, a little shower of quassia, just
+to freshen you up; eh? See, Margaret, how gratefully the beautiful
+creature responds. Now, Jack here,"--he passed on to a Jacqueminot rose,
+covered with splendid crimson blossoms,--"Jack is thick-skinned, quite a
+rhinoceros by contrast with La France or the Bride. Here
+are--one--two--five--my patience! here are seven aphides on his poor
+leaves, and yet he has not curled up so much as the edge of one. Take
+him for all in all, Jack is as good a fellow as I know. Responsive,
+cordial, ready for anything--not expecting to have the whole world
+waiting on him, as some of these people do--ah, Hugh! Finished your
+letters? That's right!"
+
+Hugh Montfort, who had come in unobserved, was leaning on his stick,
+watching them with some amusement.
+
+"Who is this Jack, if I may ask, Uncle John? He seems to be a rather
+remarkable sort of chap."
+
+Mr. Montfort looked slightly confused. "Only my fantastic way of
+speaking of my roses," he said. "They seem like real people to me, and I
+am apt to call them by their names. A shame, to be sure, to take such
+liberties with the General. Permit me to present you in due form! M. le
+Général Jacqueminot, I have the honor to present to you Mr. Hugh
+Montfort, my nephew, and--may I say admirer? The General is sensitive to
+admiration."
+
+"You may indeed!" said Hugh, bowing gravely to the splendid plant.
+"General, your most obedient servant! I have known others of your
+family, some of them, I may say, intimately, and I can truly say that I
+never saw a finer specimen of the race."
+
+The General glowed responsive, and Mr. Montfort glowed too, with
+pleasure. "Fond of roses?" he said; "that's good! that's good! why,
+boy, you seem to have a great many of my tastes. How's that, hey? your
+father never knew one flower from another."
+
+There was a very tender light in Hugh's eyes as he returned his uncle's
+look. "When I was a little chap, sir," he said, "my father used to tell
+me a good deal about you and Uncle Roger, the two best fellows he ever
+knew. I used to think--and I think still--that if I could be like them
+in anything I should do well; so I took to flowers because you loved
+them, and to books because they were Uncle Roger's delight. The big
+things seemed pretty big, but I thought the little ones would be better
+than nothing."
+
+The glow deepened on John Montfort's cheek, and the light in his eyes;
+in Margaret's eyes the quick tears sprang; and with one impulse she and
+her uncle held out their hands. Hugh grasped them both, and there was a
+moment of silence that was better than speech. Hugh was the first to
+break it. "I have two new friends!" he said, in his sweet, cordial
+voice. "This day is better than I dreamed, and that is saying a good
+deal. But now, go on with the roses, Uncle John, please; there are
+several kinds here that I do not know. What is this cream-colored
+beauty?"
+
+"Why, that, Hugh, is my special pride. That is a sport of my own
+raising; Victoria, I call her. She took a first prize at the flower show
+last year. We were proud, weren't we, Margaret?"
+
+"Indeed we were, Uncle John. Think, Hugh, she had two hundred and seven
+buds and blossoms when we sent her. She looked like a snow-drift at
+sunrise; didn't you, Victoria?"
+
+"Could you send a plant of this size without injury? Ah! I see; pot
+sunk. Well, she is a marvel of beauty, certainly. I have some slips
+coming from home for you, Uncle; the box ought to be here to-day or
+to-morrow. There are one or two things that I think you may not have.
+But you have a noble collection; what a joy a rose-garden is!"
+
+"Mine used to be the greatest pleasure I had," said Mr. Montfort, "until
+I took to cultivating another kind of flower, the human variety." He
+pinched Margaret's ear affectionately, and she returned the pinch with
+a confidential pat on his arm.
+
+"For many years," he continued, "I lived something of a hermit life,
+Hugh. There were reasons--no matter now--at all events I preferred
+solitude, and save for my good aunt, your great-aunt Faith, about whom
+Margaret will have a great deal to tell you, I saw practically no one
+from year's end to year's end. Very foolish, as I am now aware;
+criminally foolish. I have got beyond all that, thank Heaven! During
+this secluded period, my garden, and my roses in particular, were my
+chief resource, next to my books. Indeed, in summer time the books had
+to take the second place, and it should be so. You remember Bacon, Hugh:
+'God Almighty first planted a garden; it is the purest of human
+pleasures,' etc. I used to know that essay by heart. In summer time, the
+Great Book, sir, the Book of Nature, is opened for us, spread open by a
+divine hand; it were thankless as well as stupid to refuse to study it.
+So I studied my garden first, and after that, my fields and woods and
+pastures. Great reading in a broken pasture! When I wanted human
+companionship--apart from that sweet and gracious influence of her who
+was my second mother--I found it in my friends between the covers, who
+were always ready to talk or be silent, as my mood inclined. I thought I
+did well enough with Shakespeare and Montaigne and the rest; I have
+learned now that one living voice, speaking in love and kindness, is
+worth them all for 'human nature's daily food.'"
+
+Margaret listened, wondering. Her uncle had seldom said so much about
+his own life even to her, his housemate and intimate companion these two
+years; while Hugh, without a word, simply from some power of silent
+sympathy that lay in him, had drawn out this frank speech a few hours
+after their first meeting. She wondered; and then asked herself, why
+should she wonder, since she herself felt the same drawing toward her
+new-found relative. "This must be what it is like to have a brother!"
+she said to herself; and felt her heart quicken with a new sense of
+comfort and happiness. "Such a pleasant world!" said Margaret.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+A VISION
+
+
+Hugh Montfort was having a delightful morning. He had been at Fernley
+three days now, and already knew every nook and corner on the place.
+With his uncle's consent he had appropriated for his own use the little
+summer-house, covered with clematis and York and Lancaster roses, that
+looked out over the south wall of the garden, and away toward the sea.
+Here he had brought his desk (an old one belonging to his father, that
+Margaret had found in the garret), and had tacked up a shelf for a few
+favorite books; and here he was sitting, on the fairest of June days,
+with a volume of Greek plays open before him, considering the landscape,
+and enjoying himself thoroughly.
+
+Hugh was no less delighted with his uncle and cousin than they with him.
+Always and necessarily a student and observer rather than a man of
+action, he felt an instant sympathy with the man and woman of books and
+thought. He loved dearly his own family, active, strenuous people,
+overflowing with strength and energy; but he often felt himself out of
+place among them, and reproached himself with the frequent languor and
+headache that so often kept him from sharing in their full-throated,
+whole-hearted mirth. He had graduated from a Western university, and was
+now going to study for a post-graduate degree at Harvard; he was tired,
+and the quiet at Fernley, the sense of perfect congeniality with his
+uncle, and Margaret's serene face and musical, even-toned voice, were
+like balm to his over-strung nerves.
+
+This morning his head ached, and he did not feel like study. The book
+open before him gave him a kind of moral support, but he did hardly more
+than glance at it from time to time. His eyes roved far and wide over
+the lovely prospect that lay outside, broad stretches of sunny, rolling
+meadows, dotted with clumps of trees, and framed in the arched opening
+of the summer-house. This summer-house had been a favorite playhouse of
+his father and uncles in their boyhood. He knew a dozen stories about
+it; and now his eyes turned to the lattice walls, carved everywhere with
+the familiar initials, and the devices of the four brothers Montfort:
+John's egg and Jim's oyster, Roger's book and Dick's ship. What glorious
+boys they must have been! This was where they used to play Curtius, and
+Monte Cristo, and all manner of games; leaping over the wall into the
+meadow below, deep in fern and daisies, or swinging themselves down by
+the hanging branches of the old willow that peeped round one side of the
+arch. Glorious boys! And then Hugh thought of his own brothers, and said
+"Good old Jim!" under his breath.
+
+Thus musing, he was aware of a voice under his latticed bower, as of
+some one in the meadow below; a woman's voice, calm and melodious as
+Margaret's own, but with a deeper and graver note in it.
+
+"What did he want then, a Lovely Person? Did he want her to love him?
+Well, she did, ardently; so that is all right."
+
+A rustling followed, and the voice spoke again:
+
+"No, he mustn't kiss her; that is not permitted. He may lie at her feet,
+and gaze at her with his large, brown eyes, Philip her King, but no
+kissing. She is surprised at his suggesting such a thing."
+
+Hugh sat mute, in great perplexity. What interview was this, at which he
+was unwillingly assisting? Were two rustic lovers below, taking their
+ease under the old willow, whose twisted roots made an admirable seat,
+as he knew? And, if so, should he be guilty of the greater offence by
+keeping still, or by going away? He knew every board in the summer-house
+floor, and there was not one that would not betray him with a loud
+creak; on the whole, it seemed best to sit still; after all, they need
+never know that any one was there. Hark! the young woman--the voice was
+certainly young--was speaking again:
+
+"He was perfectly beautiful, that was what he was. Yes! he had the
+loveliest eyes in the world, without any exception; and his ears were a
+dream of perfection, and, as for his coat and waistcoat, words fail her
+to describe them. Now if he will sit still, she will tell him
+something; no, not on her dress; a little farther off, a precious
+Poppet!"
+
+A curious sound followed; something between a loud sneeze and an equally
+loud yawn, accompanied with lively and prolonged rustling of the willow
+branches; but no articulate word from her companion. She seemed
+satisfied, however, for she went on,--a delightful quality of voice;
+Hugh felt it creeping in his ears like music:
+
+"That is right. Yes, she understands perfectly; she knows all about it,
+and she loves him to distraction. Well, Lovely One, that Lady is a Cat;
+that is what she is."
+
+Another sneeze and yawn, louder than before.
+
+"Precisely; you think so, too. A cat! 'cat, puss, tit, grimalkin, tabby,
+brindle; whoosh!' was he fond of Dickens, a Pink-nosed Pearl? She is no
+more sick than you are, Beloved. She has been, no doubt, and now she has
+forgotten how to be anything else, but she is liable to find out. Your
+Aunt, beloved, proposes to put this lady through a Course of Sprouts.
+Tu-whit! your Aunt has spoken. We may also remark, in this connection
+only, tu-whoo!"
+
+Her companion's only reply to this speech was a loud breathing, which
+might be caused by emotion, or by heat and fatigue; at all events, he
+did not seem inclined to speak. A thought flashed through Hugh's
+mind,--the man might be a deaf-mute. What a terrible affliction! It was
+bad enough to be lame; but to be deaf, and in company with a girl with a
+voice like that! Hark! she was speaking again, slowly and meditatively,
+rather as if talking to herself than to some one else:
+
+"Your Aunt has not got her plan entirely laid out yet. She knows what
+must finally happen: the patient must be got out of that house, and away
+on a sea-voyage; but there will have to be various occurrences first.
+Your Aunt's ingenuity, Adonis, will be put to a severe strain. At
+present your Aunt is alone, and in difficulties. Many oxen come about
+her, fat bulls of Bashan compass her on every side, as the Scripture
+hath it; you are not acquainted with the Scripture, Adonis, so there is
+no earthly use in your putting on that look of keen intelligence. But
+there may be balm in Gilead; I think Gilead may be in this very place
+above our head, my Popolorum Tibby. Now, what is the matter with him?"
+
+At this moment a sound was heard,--a bark, distant at first, but coming
+momently nearer; a loud, joyous, inquiring bark. It was answered from
+below by a sound combining bark, sneeze, and snort; there was a violent
+shaking of the branches, and, next moment, a brown and white setter
+sprang out from under the wall, and stood at gaze. Another instant, and
+a second dog, his exact image, appeared on the brow of the slope,
+careering toward him. There was a rapturous duet of barking and
+sneezing, and then the two swept away over the brow, and were gone.
+
+"That is the most heartless puppy I ever saw," the voice said, slowly.
+"A woodchuck, I suppose. 'Twas ever thus. The moral is, don't make love
+to strange puppies, however beautiful; but he was lovely, and he
+understood me. No more of him! The question is, what should I find at
+the top of this beanstalk--I should say, willow-tree? There is
+an--answer to--every question--if--you only ask it--quick enough!"
+
+The last words were spoken so low that Hugh did not catch their import.
+Alarmed, however, by the continued rustling of the willow branches, he
+rose hurriedly to his feet, and was about to steal away as quietly as
+might be; but at that moment a hand was laid on the coping of the
+wall,--a brown hand, slender but muscular; the next moment an arm
+followed, and a young woman swung herself across the opening, and,
+leaning on the wall, looked full in his face.
+
+It was the vision of an instant only; the lithe figure, the face full of
+careless power, the deep-set blue eyes, startling into black as they met
+his, while the slender brows met above them in angry amazement; then one
+hand reached back to the willow branch, the girl dropped from sight, and
+he heard her rustle from branch to branch, and then heard the light,
+swift sound of running feet through the fern, and dying away in the
+distance.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Is this a pleasant neighborhood, Margaret?" asked Hugh, as they sat on
+the verandah after dinner. "Have you any pleasant--a--friends, of your
+own age?"
+
+"None of my own age," said Margaret. "Indeed, our only near neighbor is
+Mrs. Peyton, an invalid lady, whom I go to see quite often. She is very
+charming, but--no, there is no one else; the places are large and
+scattered, you see, all about here. The next one on the other side
+belongs to Miss Desmond, and she is always abroad, and has not been here
+at all since I have."
+
+"You don't think she may have returned lately, without your knowing it?"
+
+"No, I am sure she cannot; I heard of her only a few days ago, in Egypt;
+Uncle John had a letter from her. Why do you ask, Hugh?"
+
+"Oh--idle curiosity; or curiosity, whether idle or not. And--there are
+no other young girls?"
+
+"None; that is why I missed Peggy and Rita so terribly, as I was telling
+you last night. Then the dear children came, and they were my comfort
+and joy; I shall have them again when the summer is over; happy day it
+will be when they come back. But, you see, having first the girls and
+then the children has rather spoiled Uncle John and me, and that is why
+it was so very particularly nice of you to come, Cousin Hugh."
+
+"Suppose we drop the 'cousin,' and be just Hugh and Margaret?" suggested
+her cousin. "I am used to having sisters about me, you know, and don't
+know how to get along without them; some day it may be 'Sister
+Margaret.' Should you mind?"
+
+Margaret colored high with pleasure, and again the foolish tears came
+into her eyes. "I have wanted a brother all my life!" she said, simply;
+and again Hugh's smile told her that he understood all about it. He was
+certainly a most wonderful person.
+
+They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes; then--"I did not tell
+the exact truth," said Margaret, "when I said there were no young people
+here. Just now it happens there is one, a newcomer, a girl of my own
+age."
+
+She paused. "Yes?" said Hugh, suggestively. "Some one you know?"
+
+"Yes--and no! I have met her once. She is a Miss Wolfe, who has come to
+be a sort of companion to Mrs. Peyton. A singular-looking girl, with a
+most interesting face. I want to see her again; and yet,--somehow,--I am
+rather afraid of her."
+
+"Is she formidable, this she-wolf?"
+
+"Not formidable, but--well, I don't know how to describe her. She
+impresses me as different from anybody I have ever seen. Wild is not the
+word; Rita was wild, but it was something totally different."
+
+"Peggy is wild, too," said Hugh, "wild as a mountain goat, or was,
+before you took her in hand, Margaret. Is this young lady like Peggy?"
+
+"Oh, not in the very least. She is not shy, not a bit; not shy, and yet
+not bold. She seems simply absolutely without self-consciousness; it is
+as if she said and did exactly what she felt like doing, with no thought
+as to whether it was--well, customary or not. I am afraid I am rather
+conventional, Cousin--I mean Hugh; not in thought, I hope, but--in
+temperament, perhaps. This girl strikes me very strangely; that is the
+only way I can describe her. Yet she attracted me strongly, the only
+time I saw her, which was the very day you came, by the way. I ought to
+have gone over to see her before this. I think I will go this evening,
+while you and Uncle John are having your after-supper smoke."
+
+"I think I would," said Hugh Montfort.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+ALI BABA
+
+
+Margaret went over duly that evening, meaning to be very friendly to the
+strange young woman; but it happened to be one of Mrs. Peyton's bad
+times, and she sent down word that she needed Miss Wolfe, and could not
+possibly spare her. Margaret left a civil message, and went home
+disappointed, and yet the least bit relieved: she had rather dreaded a
+long tête-à-tête with her new neighbor.
+
+"How absurd you are, Margaret Montfort," she said, severely, as she
+walked across the park. "Here you have been longing for a girl to talk
+to, and the moment one comes, you are seized with what Peggy calls 'the
+shyies,' just because she happens to be cut from a different pattern
+from your own."
+
+Hugh was on the verandah, waiting for her, and seemed really
+disappointed when he heard that she had not seen Miss Wolfe; that
+showed how wide and cordial his interest was, and how much thought he
+took for others, Margaret told herself. What could he care about the
+meeting of a cousin he had just begun to know with a girl whom he never
+had seen?
+
+Next day, however, she forgot all about Miss Wolfe, for the time being.
+Gerald and Philip Merryweather had accepted Mr. Montfort's invitation
+with amazing alacrity, and Jean had telegraphed her rapture of
+anticipation from Ohio. Uncle John and Hugh were left to their own
+devices, while she plunged, with Elizabeth and Frances and Polly, into
+intricacies of hospitable preparation. Stores must be ordered, linen
+examined, silver and china looked out. In regard to the silver, Margaret
+had an experience that showed her that, even after two years, she did
+not know all the resources of Fernley House. Her uncle called her into
+his study after breakfast, and handed her a key of curious pattern.
+"This is the key of the iron cupboard, Margaret," he said. Seeing her
+look of surprise, he added, "You surely know about the iron cupboard, my
+dear?"
+
+"No, Uncle John. I remember hearing Aunt Faith speak of something of the
+kind once, but I did not rightly understand, and, being shy then,--it
+was before I knew our Dear so well,--I did not like to ask."
+
+"Oh, there is no mystery, my child. No secret staircase this time, no
+ghosts in velvet jackets. But in a house like Fernley, that has been
+inhabited for many generations, there is necessarily an accumulation of
+certain kinds of things, above all, silver. We keep out all that an
+ordinary family would be likely to use, and the rest is stored in this
+safe cupboard, in case of fire or robbery. Very stupid of me not to have
+told my careful little housekeeper of this before. To tell the truth, I
+forget all about this hoard most of the time, and might not have thought
+of it now, if Elizabeth had not come to me with an important face and
+asked me if I did not think Miss Margaret ought to have the opportunity
+of putting out The Silver if she wished to do so, being as the house was
+to be full of company. That meant that Elizabeth herself wanted to
+display to the astonished eyes of Hugh and the Merryweather boys the
+resources of the house that she and Frances rule (on the whole, wisely),
+through you and me, their deputies and servants. I see no reason why the
+good souls should not be gratified do you?"
+
+"On the contrary, I see every reason why they, and I too, should be
+gratified. Uncle John, I am glad I did not know about it before. It is
+the most delightful thing about Fernley, that one never seems to come to
+the end of it. I thought I knew everything by this time, and here is
+another enchanting mystery; for say what you will, Uncle John, an iron
+cupboard full of old silver, that nobody knows about,--or hardly
+anybody,--_is_ a mystery. Now I am sure there are others, too; I shall
+never feel again that I know all about the house. Some day, when I am
+old and gray, I shall come upon another secret staircase, or a
+trap-door, or a hidden jewel-casket, or a lost will."
+
+"Why, as to jewel-caskets," said Mr. Montfort, smiling, "there is
+perhaps something that might be said; but as you say, it would never do
+to find out everything at once, May Margaret. Run away now, and examine
+your tea-kettles; there are about forty, if I remember rightly."
+
+"Uncle John! is there really a jewel-casket? What do you mean? There
+cannot be any more than those Aunt Faith had, surely."
+
+"Can't there?" said Mr. Montfort, with a provoking smile. "Doubtless you
+know best, my dear." And not another word would he say on the subject;
+but he told Margaret where to find the iron cupboard, and she ran off in
+such a flutter that Peggy would hardly have known her model and mentor.
+Old silver was one of Margaret's weak points; indeed, she had a strong
+feeling about heirlooms of every kind, and treasured carefully every
+scrap of paper even that had any association with past times.
+
+Seeing Hugh in the library, she called to him. "Hugh! come with me and
+see the Treasure Chamber of the Montforts. Don't you want to see the
+ancestral silver?"
+
+"Of course I do!" said Hugh, laying down his book and coming to join
+her. "Ancestral silver? My mother went to housekeeping with six
+teaspoons and a butter-knife, and thought herself rich. Uncle John
+wanted to send a trunkful of family silver, I have been told, but the
+Pater refused to be bothered with it. Poor Mother would have been glad
+enough of it, I fancy, but in those days he was masterful, and bent on
+roughing it, and would not hear of anything approaching luxury, or even
+convenience. Where is this wonderful treasury?"
+
+"Come, and you shall see. Uncle John has told me how to find it. Come
+through this door; here we are in his own study, you see. Now--let me
+see! I will light this lamp--for the cupboard is dark--while you look
+and find Inigo Jones."
+
+"Inigo Jones?"
+
+"Yes. A tall blue morocco quarto, about the middle of the fourth shelf
+of the bookcase behind Uncle John's desk. Ah! I see him!"
+
+Springing forward, Margaret drew the stately volume from its place.
+"Look!" she cried. "A keyhole. Hugh, isn't this exactly like the
+'Mysteries of Udolpho?' 'Inigo Jones' is his joke, you see, or
+somebody's joke. Do you mind if I turn the key, Hugh?"
+
+"Turn away!" said Hugh, much amused at the excitement of his staid
+little cousin.
+
+With a trembling hand Margaret turned the key, and gave a pull, as she
+had been told. A section of the bookcase, with its load of books, swung
+slowly forward, revealing a dark opening. Margaret stepped in, and Hugh
+followed, holding the lamp aloft.
+
+"Well, upon my word!" he said. "I never heard of anything like this, out
+of the 'Arabian Nights.'"
+
+Margaret was looking about her, too much absorbed for words. The Iron
+Cupboard was a recess some ten feet deep and seven or eight wide, lined
+with shelves. These shelves were literally packed with silver, some in
+boxes, much in bags, glimmering in the half-light like dwarfish ghosts;
+but the greater part uncovered, glittering in tarnished splendor
+wherever the lamplight fell. Rows upon rows of teapots, tall and squat,
+round and oval, chased, hammered, and plain; behind them, coffee-pots
+looking down, in every possible device. There were silver pitchers and
+silver bowls; porringers and fruit-dishes, salvers and platters. Such an
+array as might dazzle the eyes of any silversmith of moderate ambition.
+
+"Well, Margaret," said Hugh, somewhat impressed, but more amused, at
+sight of all this hoarded treasure, "what do you say? I shall leave the
+expression of emotion to you."
+
+But Margaret was in no jesting mood. With clasped hands she turned to
+her cousin. "Oh, Hugh," she cried, "isn't it wonderful? to think of all
+those beautiful things living here alone,--I don't mean alone, but all
+by themselves--year after year, with no one to see them, or take them
+out and polish them. Oh, I never saw such things! Look at this perfect
+pitcher, will you? did you ever see anything so graceful? This must come
+in, if nothing else does. The milk shall be poured from it from this day
+forward, as long as I am the Mistress of Fernley. That is just a
+play-name, of course," she hastened to explain, blushing as she did so.
+"Uncle John gave it to me in sport, when I first began to try to keep
+house."
+
+"It seems to me a most appropriate name," said Hugh. "There has never
+been another, has there? in this generation, I mean. Uncle John was
+never married, was he?"
+
+"No; isn't it a pity? I have so often wondered why. I asked Aunt Faith
+once,--well, Hugh, of course she was Mistress of Fernley as long as she
+lived, though she would always speak of herself as a visitor,--and she
+only sighed and shook her head, and said, 'Poor John! poor dear lad!'
+and then changed the subject. But--do you suppose any one can hear us
+here, Hugh?"
+
+"I do not, Margaret. I should say that you might safely tell me
+anything, of however fearful a nature, in this iron-bound retreat."
+
+"Oh, it really isn't anything--or perhaps it is not--but my own fancy. I
+have built up a kind of air-castle of the past, that is all. You know
+Uncle John's passion for roses? Well, and sometimes, when he is sitting
+quietly and has forgotten that any one is near, he will say to himself,
+'Rose! Rose!' softly, just like that, and as if it were something he
+loved to say. I have wondered whether he once cared a great deal for
+some one whose name was Rose.--What do you think, Hugh? and she died,
+and that is why he has never married. There! I have never spoken of this
+before, not even to Peggy. Don't tell any one, will you?"
+
+She looked anxiously in her cousin's face, and met the grave, sweet look
+that always made her feel safe and quiet; she did not know how else to
+express it.
+
+"Tell any one? No indeed, my dear little cousin. It is a young girl's
+fancy, and a very sweet and graceful one."
+
+"Then you don't think it may be true?" asked Margaret, disappointed.
+
+"Certainly it may be true; I should think it highly probable that
+something of the sort had happened, to keep a man like Uncle John single
+all his days; but--well, I don't see that anything can be done about it
+now, do you?"
+
+"Hugh, I am afraid you are practical, after all!" said Margaret. "And I
+was hoping you would turn out romantic."
+
+Hugh only laughed, and asked her if she had chosen all the silver she
+wanted. This question put a stop at once to Margaret's romantic visions.
+Enough? but, she had only just begun, she said. Did he think she was
+going to take one pitcher and leave all the rest of these enchanting
+treasures?
+
+"And we have not explored the boxes yet!" she cried. "See, they all
+have dear little ivory labels. Do reach me down that fat square box,
+please! 'Col. Montfort's Tankard, 1814.' Oh, that was our
+great-great-grandfather, Hugh! Do let us open this!"
+
+The black leathern box, being opened, revealed a stately glass-bottomed
+tankard, with a dragon's curling tail for a handle. On the front was an
+inscription, "Presented to Col. Peter Montfort, in token of respect and
+affection, by the officers of his mess, July, 1814."
+
+"His portrait is up in the long gallery," said Margaret. "Don't you
+remember, with the high ruffled stock? I don't see how he could speak,
+with his chin so very high in the air. Now I must have that oval green
+case; I am sure that is something interesting. 'General Washington's
+Gift.' Oh, Hugh!"
+
+This time Hugh was as much interested as she, and both bent eagerly over
+the box as Margaret opened it. The case was of faded green morocco,
+lined with crimson satin. Within was an oval cup or bowl, of exquisite
+workmanship; it was what is called a loving-cup, and Margaret looked in
+vain for an inscription.
+
+"There must be one!" said Hugh. "_Papa Patriæ_ would not have been so
+unkind as to leave such a thing unmarked. Look on the bottom, Margaret!"
+
+Margaret looked, and there, to be sure, was a tolerably long
+inscription, in minute script.
+
+"Hold the light nearer, please; I can hardly read this, it is so fine.
+Oh, listen to this, Hugh! 'For my worthy Friend and Host, Roger Montfort
+Esquire, and his estimable Lady, in grateful Recollection of my
+agreeable Stay beneath their hospitable Roof. From their obliged Friend
+and Servant, G. Washington. 1776.'"
+
+"That _is_ a treasure!" said Hugh, handling the bowl with reverent care.
+"I knew that General Washington had spent some days at Fernley, but I
+never heard of this relic of his stay. Margaret, this is really
+extremely interesting. Go on, and open more of them. Perhaps we shall
+find tokens of all the Continental Congress. I shall look for at least a
+model of a kite in silver, with the compliments of B. Franklin. Suppose
+we try this next. It looks very inviting."
+
+He took down an oblong box of curious pattern, and opened it. "What
+upon earth--Margaret, what are these? Grape-scissors? Asparagus-tongs?
+They don't look like either."
+
+"I should think not!" said Margaret, taking the object from his hand.
+"Why, it is a pair of curling-tongs. What queer things! No inscription
+on these; there isn't room for one. Here is a piece of paper in the box,
+though."
+
+She took up a yellowish scrap, and read: "'My niece Jemima's
+curling-tongs, with which she, being impatient to make a Show above her
+Sisters, did burn off one Side of her Hair. Preserved as a Warning to
+young Women by me, Tabitha Montfort. 1803.' Poor Jemima! She was
+punished enough, without being held up to posterity in this way."
+
+"She was an extravagant young lady," said Hugh, "with her silver tongs;
+I think it may have been good for her soul, if not her hair, to suffer
+this infliction. Are you going to keep these out, Margaret, for use? I
+do hope you will be more careful than Aunt Jemima was. Your hair--excuse
+me!--looks as if you had not used the irons for some time."
+
+Margaret laughed, and patted the smooth waves of her hair. "It _is_
+some time!" she said. "Yours, on the other hand, Hugh, has more curl
+than may be altogether natural. I may have suspected you of the tongs,
+but at least I have had the charity to keep my suspicions to myself."
+
+"You are extremely good, Miss Montfort. What have you got hold of now?"
+
+"'Dear Johnny's Rattle!'" said Margaret, reading the label on a small
+box. "I wonder if that was Uncle John. See! silver bells; what a sweet
+tone!"
+
+She shook a merry peal from the tiny bells. Hugh, who had been rummaging
+at the other end of the cupboard, replied with a clear blast blown on a
+small silver trumpet, which he now held up in triumph. "Here we are!" he
+cried. "This is the instrument for me. This was presented to Captain
+Hugh Montfort of the navy. What on earth could the gallant commander do
+with this at sea?"
+
+"Whistle for a wind, of course," said Margaret, merrily. "What else?
+Come here and look at Grandfather Montfort's gold-bowed spectacles; they
+are big enough for an ox."
+
+So the talk went on merrily, and box after box, bag after bag, was
+opened, sometimes with astonishing results. The bygone Montforts seemed
+to have been fond of silver, and to have vied with one another in their
+ingenious applications of it to domestic uses.
+
+Many of the objects had historic or personal interest, and the two
+cousins might have spent the day there, if Mr. Montfort had not suddenly
+appeared, asking whether he was to have any dinner or not. Margaret had
+her arms full by this time, while Hugh was trying his best to carry a
+splendid fruit-bowl, a salver, two pitchers, and three vases, all at
+once. Mr. Montfort burst out laughing at sight of the pair. "Cassim and
+Ali Baba!" he cried. "And I, the Robber Captain, with not a single one
+of all the Forty Thieves at my back. Margaret, for charity's sake! you
+are not going to bring all that rubbish into the house? Isn't there
+enough already? I'm sorry I told you anything about it."
+
+Margaret looked up, guilty but happy, from her effort at capturing a
+fourth vase with her little finger, the only one left unencumbered.
+"Dear Uncle, you never would be so cruel!" she said. "See! I have only
+taken one chocolate-pot, and there are five, such beauties! Yes, I know
+we don't drink chocolate, but some of our guests might, and you would
+not have me neglect the guests, would you, Uncle John?"
+
+"Sooner than have a guest take his chocolate from a china pot," said Mr.
+Montfort, gravely, "I would go to the stake. At present, if you will
+pardon a very old joke, my dear Margaret, I should prefer to go to the
+beefsteak, which I have reason to think is on the table at this moment.
+Come out, both of you young thieves, and let Inigo Jones go in again!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+MORE ARRIVALS
+
+
+The great day came, the day of the arrivals. Jean was the first to come,
+by an early train, having arrived in New York the night before, where
+Hugh met her and brought her in triumph to Fernley. Margaret was at the
+door to receive her, and Peggy's sister had no cause to complain of the
+warmth of her reception. She was a slenderer Peggy, with the same blue,
+honest eyes, the same flaxen hair and rosy cheeks. Her dress, however,
+was far more tasteful and neat than Peggy's had been on her first
+arrival. Margaret recalled the green flannel, all buttoned awry, and
+looked with approval on Jean's pretty gray travelling-dress.
+
+"Dear Jean!" she said, kissing her cousin warmly. "Most welcome to
+Fernley, dear child! Oh, I am so glad to see you! I have been counting
+the days, Jean."
+
+[Illustration: "SHE WAS A SLENDERER PEGGY, WITH THE SAME BLUE, HONEST
+EYES."]
+
+"Oh, so have I!" said Jean, looking up with a shy, sweet smile,--Peggy's
+very own smile. Margaret kissed her again for it. "The last day did seem
+awfully long, Cousin Margaret--well, Margaret, then! I'm sure I never
+call you anything but Peggy's Margaret when I think of you. Peggy hasn't
+come yet?"
+
+"Not yet. She will be here this afternoon, on the three o'clock train.
+She knows nothing about your coming, Jean. In her very last letter, she
+was talking about being glad to come here, and so on, and she said the
+only thing wanting would be you."
+
+"Oh, goody! I'm awfully glad--that she doesn't know, I mean. It will be
+just lovely to surprise her. Dear old Peg!" Jean relapsed into bashful
+silence when Margaret took her into the library to greet her uncle; but
+Mr. Montfort's smile and cordial greeting soon put her at her ease.
+
+"Isn't he just lovely?" she whispered to Margaret, as they went
+up-stairs. "I was afraid he would be awful, somehow, but he isn't a bit;
+he's just lovely."
+
+Margaret assented, making a mental note of the fact that this child
+seemed to have but two adjectives in her vocabulary. "Peggy will see to
+that!" she said to herself. "Peggy has improved so wonderfully in her
+English this last year. She will be quicker than I to notice and take up
+the little mistakes."
+
+This was not strictly true, though modest Margaret meant it so. Peggy
+certainly had learned much at school, but her teachers had no
+expectation of her becoming an eminent English scholar.
+
+"I have put you with Peggy," said Margaret, leading the way into the
+pretty room, hung with red-poppy chintz, where Peggy had spent a few sad
+and many happy hours. "I thought you would rather be together."
+
+"Oh, yes, indeed! You are awfully kind, Cous--Margaret. I haven't seen
+Peggy for a year, you know. We missed her awfully at Christmas, of
+course, but she had a lovely time here; and it would have been awful if
+she had come home and got the measles, wouldn't it?"
+
+"Yes, we did have a very good time. The children were here,--Basil and
+Susan D.,--and they and Peggy were fast friends. Oh, yes, it was a
+great holiday. Now, dear, you will want to rest a little, so I will
+leave you. Peggy will not be here till after lunch, so you will have
+time for a good rest, and to explore the garden, too, if you like. I am
+going now to arrange my flowers."
+
+"Oh, might I help? I am not a bit tired, and I just love to arrange
+flowers. Do let me help, Margaret!"
+
+"Very well," said Margaret, with a little inward sigh. She had her own
+ideas, and very definite ones, about the arrangement of flowers, in
+which she had exquisite taste; and her recollection of the way in which
+Peggy used to squeeze handfuls of blossoms tight into a vase, without
+regard to color or form, made her dread the assistance so heartily
+proffered; but Jean was quicker than Peggy had been at her age, and one
+glance at Margaret's first "effect," a rainbow combination of
+sweet-peas, showering over the side of a crystal bowl, filled her with
+ambition to emulate its beauty. The morning passed happily and busily,
+the more so that Hugh came in presently, with a chapter of Thoreau that
+Margaret "really must hear!" He read well, and his taste and Margaret's
+being much alike, they spent many pleasant hours together, he reading
+aloud, she with her flowers or her work. Jean, who had never heard of
+Thoreau, and was not bookish, tried to listen, but did not make much of
+it. She fell to meditating instead, and her bright eyes wandered
+curiously from one intent face to the other. Hugh never thought of
+reading aloud at home. To be sure, he was the only one who cared about
+reading, or had time for it. He and Margaret seemed to know each other
+very well, seeing what a short time he had been here. Jean, with all the
+eager romance of fifteen, straightway began the building of an
+air-castle, which seemed to her a fine structure indeed. Meantime, Hugh
+and Margaret, all unconscious of her scrutiny, were enjoying themselves
+extremely.
+
+"'As polishing expresses the vein in marble and grain in wood, so music
+brings out what of heroic lurks anywhere. . . . When we are in health,
+all sounds fife and drum to us; we hear notes of music in the air, or
+catch its echoes dying away when we awake in the dawn. Marching is when
+the pulse of the hero beats in unison with the pulse of Nature, and he
+steps to the measure of the universe; then there is true courage and
+invincible strength.'"
+
+"How beautiful that is!" said Margaret.
+
+"Yes; that is the particular passage I wanted to read to you. Have you
+ever had that feeling, fancying that you wake to the sound of music? I
+often have, when I have been sleeping out in the open--never within
+doors."
+
+"No," said Margaret, "I don't think I ever have, Hugh; but what a
+pleasant thing it must be! I have never slept in the open, but even if I
+should, I fear my waking would be plain prose, like myself."
+
+Hugh laughed, and glanced at her affectionately. "I haven't found much
+prose about you, Margaret," he said. "If I had, I should not have read
+you my secrets when Thoreau tells them for me. That reminds me, do you
+sing? I have not heard you, have I?"
+
+"No; I wish I did, for I love music very much. Oh, I sing a very little,
+enough to join in a chorus--if there ever were a chorus at Fernley. I
+used to enjoy Rita's singing intensely; she has a very sweet voice."
+
+"Some one was singing last night," Hugh went on; "I don't know why, but
+this passage reminds me--I heard a woman's voice singing,--a remarkable
+voice."
+
+"Indeed? Where were you? Not in your room? I am sure there is no one in
+the house who sings."
+
+"No; it was pretty warm, and the moon--well, you remember, it was all
+you could do to go to bed yourself, Margaret. After Virtue, in the shape
+of yourself and Uncle John, had gone to bed, Vice, in my shape, wandered
+about the garden, I don't know how long. It was wonderful there, with
+the trees, and the smell of the roses and box, and--and the whole thing,
+you know. Down at the foot of the garden, over in the meadow below, some
+one was singing; some one with a remarkable voice; rather deep-toned,
+not loud, and yet full, with an extraordinary degree of melody; or, so
+it seemed at a distance. I wondered who it was, that was all. You have
+no idea, I suppose?"
+
+"No! I wonder too, very much. No one from this house, I am sure of
+that. Now that I think of it, though, Polly sings--Polly, the under
+housemaid; she has a pretty little bird-like voice, but nothing such as
+you describe. I'll make inquiries, though--"
+
+"Oh, pray don't!" said Hugh, hastily, "I'd rather not! I--I mean, of
+course, it is not of the smallest consequence, Margaret. It is pleasant
+to hear singing at night, but perhaps all the pleasanter when the singer
+is unseen and unknown. Now let us go on with our Thoreau."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Margaret! Margaret! Margaret!"
+
+It was all Peggy could say at first. All the way up the avenue her heart
+had been beating high; at sight of the brown chimney-stacks of Fernley,
+it seemed to give a great jump up in her throat; and when the carriage
+swept round the curve, and she saw the whole front of the great house,
+and Margaret, her own Margaret, standing on the steps, with arms
+outstretched to welcome her, there was nothing for it but to cry out,
+with the full power of her healthy lungs. Almost before Bannan could
+stop the horses, she had scrambled out, and was on her cousin's neck,
+strangling her with hugs, and smothering her with kisses at the same
+instant. "Margaret! Margaret! I am really here! Do you know that I am
+really here?"
+
+Speech was impossible for Margaret, but a voice from behind broke in:
+
+"Come, come! what is all this? My niece done to death on my own
+doorstep? Let go, Peggy, and come and kill me instead. I am older, and
+shall be less missed."
+
+Peggy loosed her hold, somewhat abashed, but received an embrace from
+her uncle so warm that she brightened again instantly.
+
+"Oh, Uncle John, how do you do? It was only that I was so glad to see my
+darling Margaret. Did I hurt you, dearest? I have pulled all your lovely
+hair down; Margaret, I am more clumsy than ever, I do believe."
+
+"Dear Peggy! as if I cared whether you are clumsy or not! though it is
+convenient to have the use of my windpipe, I confess. Well, and here you
+are, indeed. Why, Peggy!"
+
+"What is it, Margaret?"
+
+"_Why, Peggy!_"
+
+"Oh, dear! what is the matter? Is my hat wrong side before? I know my
+necktie is crooked, but I couldn't help that, truly I couldn't,
+Margaret; the strap is broken, and it will work round under my ear. I'll
+mend it--"
+
+"I wasn't looking at your necktie, child. Peggy, you are taller than I
+am! How dare you, miss?"
+
+"Oh, Margaret! I really thought I had done something--why, yes, so I am
+taller; but only just the least little bit, Margaret."
+
+"And your shoulders--why, Peggy, you are a great big creature! How can
+any one grow so in six months? We shall have to call you Brynhild."
+
+"What's that?" asked Peggy, simply. "I haven't grown enough to
+understand outlandish words, Margaret, so you need not try them on me.
+Oh,"--she looked around her with delighted eyes,--"how beautiful
+everything looks, Uncle John. Why, the yellow birch has grown as much as
+I have; it is quite a fat tree. And--you have put out more chestnuts,
+haven't you? And--oh, Uncle John, I haven't told you my great news! The
+most wonderful news! I wouldn't write about it, because I wanted to
+surprise you. Hugh, our Hugh, is coming East. He is--"
+
+"What is he?" said another voice, and Hugh came forward laughing, and
+took his sister in his arms. "Well, little girl,--big, enormous,
+colossal little girl, how are you? Shut your eyes, Peg of Limavaddy, or
+they will drop out, and then what should we do?"
+
+"Hugh! what does it mean? When--how did you get here? You weren't to
+start till next week."
+
+"So I wasn't," said Hugh, composedly. "But you see I did. If you are not
+glad to see me, Margaret will let me stay in the back kitchen, I am
+sure, till you go away."
+
+Peggy's only reply was a hug as powerful as the one she had given
+Margaret; it set her brother coughing and laughing till the tears came
+to his eye. "My dear sister," he said, "have you been studying grips
+with a grizzly bear? I felt one rib go, if not two."
+
+"Not really, Hugh? I didn't really hurt you?" cried Peggy, anxiously.
+
+"No, no! not really. See now, Margaret wants you. Run along, Samsonina."
+
+Peggy ran into the house, casting delighted glances all about her.
+
+"How beautiful the hall looks! Oh, Margaret, what flowers! why, it is a
+perfect flower show! Did you do them all yourself? for me? Oh, you
+darling!" and again Margaret's breath was extinguished by a powerful
+embrace. "And, oh, the surprise of seeing Hugh! You know I love a
+surprise. You planned it for me, didn't you, darling Margaret? You are
+the most angelic--"
+
+"Peggy! Peggy! Peggy! no extravagance!"
+
+"No, Margaret, I won't. Only how can I help it, when I am so happy, and
+you are so--"
+
+But here Margaret fairly laid her hand over Peggy's mouth. "I did not
+plan Hugh's coming," she said. "I was as much surprised, and as
+pleasantly, as you, Peggy. He came earlier than he had expected, on
+account of some business for Uncle James. Only, we all agreed that we
+would not tell you, because we knew your fondness for surprises. Do you
+think you could bear another, Peggy, or is this enough for to-day?"
+
+"What do you mean, Margaret? There can't be anything more. Nothing could
+count after the joy of seeing Hugh. Oh, Margaret, isn't he dear? Don't
+you love him?"
+
+"Indeed I do!" said Margaret, heartily. "You never said half enough
+about him, Peggy. Oh, we are such friends, Uncle John and Hugh and I.
+But is there no other thing you can think of that you would like, Peggy,
+dear? No one else you would like very, very much to see?"
+
+They were now at the door of Peggy's room, and Margaret's hand was on
+the door. Peggy turned and looked at her in wonder. "What do you mean,
+Margaret? Why do you look like that?" At this moment a sound was heard
+on the other side of the door, something between a cry, a sniffle, and a
+sob.
+
+"Who is in there?" cried Peggy, her eyes opening to their fullest and
+roundest extent.
+
+"Go in and see," said Margaret, and she opened the door and pushed Peggy
+gently in, and shut it again.
+
+She heard a great cry. "Jean! my Jean!" "Oh, Peggy! Peggy!" then kissing
+and hugging; and then sounds which made her open the door and come
+quickly into the room. Peggy and Jean were seated on the floor, side by
+side, their heads on each other's shoulder, crying as if their hearts
+would break.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF
+
+
+"Well, Jean!"
+
+"Well, Peggy!"
+
+"What do you think of them?"
+
+"Oh, I think they are just lovely. I like the tall one best, don't you?
+Though the red-haired one is awfully nice, too."
+
+"Goose! I didn't mean them. I meant Uncle John and Margaret. Aren't they
+dear? Did I say half enough about them, Jean?"
+
+"No, not half. Margaret is just too lovely for anything, and Uncle
+John--well, of course, I am awfully afraid of him, but he is just
+lovely, too."
+
+"Look here, young one!" said Peggy the Venerable, gravely. "Can't you
+say anything except 'awful' and 'lovely?' I would enlarge my vocabulary,
+if I were you."
+
+Jean opened her eyes to their roundest. "Vocabulary! What's that? Don't
+tell me that you are going to set up for a school-teacher, Peggy. Why,
+you used to say 'awful' yourself, all the time."
+
+"Oh, no, Jean, not quite all the time."
+
+"Well, awfully often, anyhow. I know you did."
+
+"Oh, Jean, I know I did. But first Margaret told me about it, and then I
+began to notice for myself. I've been taking Special English this year,
+and I find I notice more and more. It's really a pity, as Margaret says,
+to have only two or three words and work them to death, when there are
+so many good ones that we never use at all. Grace used to call it
+'Cruelty to Syllables.'"
+
+"Well, what shall I say? I don't know anything else."
+
+"Yes, you do; don't be absurd, child. Margaret made me a list of
+adjectives and adverbs once, I remember, the first time I was here; I
+was just your age then, Jean, and I have no doubt I _did_ say 'awfully'
+most of the time; anyhow, I did it enough to trouble Margaret aw--very
+much indeed. Let me see: there is 'very,' of course; 'remarkably,
+extremely, uncommonly, exceedingly, and excessively;' then for
+adjectives, 'charming, delightful, pretty, exquisite, pleasant,
+agreeable, entertaining,'--well, there were a great many more, but that
+is all I can think of now; all these will do instead of 'awful' and
+'lovely,' Jean."
+
+"Oh, Peggy, dear, you are a regular school-ma'am. Please don't let us
+talk about all these horrid things, the first night I am here. I am
+perfectly dying to know what you think about the two Mr. Merryweathers,
+and about Hugh and Margaret."
+
+"Why, I think the Merryweathers seem very nice boys indeed. I like the
+funny one best, I think; Gerald, is his name? But the other one is nice,
+too. He has such kind eyes, and such a pleasant voice. Somehow he looks
+more like Gertrude than Gerald does, even though Gerald has her hair.
+Oh, Jean, I wish you could see my Snowy Owl! She is so dear, and
+beautiful, and strong; next to you and Margaret, she is the very dearest
+girl in the world, except one."
+
+"May I come in?" said Margaret's voice at the door. She was greeted by a
+duet of "Come in, do!" and entering, found her two cousins seated on the
+floor, hair-brush in hand, brushing out their long fair hair.
+
+        "'Maud and Madge in their robes of white,
+         The prettiest nightgowns under the sun!'"
+
+quoted Margaret. "How comfortable you look, girls! May I do my hair
+here, too? I knew you would be sitting up, chattering. Who is the very
+dearest girl in the world except one, Peggy? And who is the one? I heard
+the end of your sentence before I knocked."
+
+"Yes, but you didn't hear the beginning," said Peggy, "or you would know
+that you two here are the _very_ dearest, and that the others only come
+after you. I was speaking of Gertrude Merryweather; oh! how you and she
+will love each other, Margaret! I don't see how I can wait to have you
+know each other. And by the 'except one,' I meant Grace Wolfe, our Horny
+Owl, and our Goat, and a good many other things."
+
+"Where is she now?" asked Margaret. "Have you heard from her lately?"
+
+"No," said Peggy, sadly. "None of us have heard at school. She wrote
+Miss Russell some time ago that she was going to try a new departure,
+and expected either to go mad or make her fortune; but she didn't say
+what it was. She never writes many letters, you know. We have all
+written again and again, but it makes no difference. Hark! what is that
+noise?"
+
+"What noise? I heard nothing," said Margaret.
+
+"I thought I heard some one speak, outside the window."
+
+They listened for a moment, but all was quiet.
+
+"It may have been Uncle John and Hugh in the garden," said Margaret. "It
+is early yet, you know, not ten o'clock; they often walk about for an
+hour and more after we come up. Speaking of Grace Wolfe, Peggy,--"
+
+"Tu-whit!" said a voice. "In this connection only, I may be permitted to
+remark, tu-whoo!"
+
+"_Grace!_" cried Peggy, in such a voice that the other girls sprang to
+their feet. Peggy was at the window before them, snatching back the
+curtain. The night was warm, and the upper sash had been lowered
+completely. Leaning over the sash was a slender figure shimmering white
+in the moonlight. "Any admittance for the Goat?" said a deep, melodious
+voice. "Peace, Innocent!" for Peggy was trying to drag her in over the
+sash by main force.
+
+"I address the mistress of the dwelling. Is there admittance for a
+miscellaneous quadruped, Margaret Montfort?"
+
+But now Margaret had her other hand, and laughing and crying, the girls
+had her in, and again Peggy displayed the powerful development of her
+muscles in a strangling embrace, from which Grace emerged panting, but
+unruffled. Giving Peggy a sedate kiss, she turned to Margaret, who still
+held her hand, gazing in wonder and bewilderment; for this was Mrs.
+Peyton's companion.
+
+"You pardon the informality?" she said; and her smile was like light in
+the room. "I could not come to call on Peggy, or on Peggy's Margaret,
+with my bonnet on. And it is a _great_ wall to climb!" she added,
+wistfully. "I don't know when I have enjoyed myself so; there is little
+climbing in these sad days. Now you see why I did not want to be Miss
+Fox."
+
+"Oh, my dear!" cried Margaret. "How could you keep me in the dark? How
+stupid--how utterly stupid of me, not to know you! And yet, how could I
+have guessed that Mrs. Peyton's companion was Peggy's own beloved Grace?
+You must be my Grace, too, please; I will have neither wolves nor foxes,
+but only Grace, or the Horned Owl."
+
+She kissed Grace, who returned the kiss warmly. But now Peggy, who had
+been silent for a moment in sheer amazement, broke in:
+
+"What does this all mean?" she cried. "Have you dropped from the moon,
+Grace Wolfe, or where do you come from? You and Margaret have met
+before? Where, and how, and when? I must know all about it, this very
+instant."
+
+The situation was soon explained. Jean, who had hung back, shy and
+frightened, was brought forward and introduced; and soon all four girls
+were seated comfortably on the floor, talking as if nothing astonishing
+had happened. Only every few minutes Peggy would put her hand out and
+touch Grace's shoulder, as if to make sure that she was genuine flesh
+and blood, and not some phantom conjured up out of the moonlight.
+
+"I have tried twice to see you," Margaret said. "Both times I seemed to
+have come just at the wrong moment. Do tell me how you are getting on,
+Grace! How has Mrs. Peyton been since you have been there? It is very
+seldom that I am so many days without seeing her."
+
+"Singular lady!" said Grace. "Beautiful, but singular. She thinks me
+mad, so matters are equal. Why, we get on--somewhere! I am not sure
+where. At present, I am in disgrace. She did not like her chocolate this
+morning, and being in a pet, bade me throw it out of window; I obeyed.
+It appears the cup was valuable, which was a pity, as its bones are
+scattered far and wide."
+
+"You threw the cup, too? Grace!"
+
+"Naturally I threw the cup. I am going on the principle of doing exactly
+what she tells me to do; thus she may discover the unreason of her
+conduct. Tu-whit! Yesterday she was displeased with an embroidered
+muslin jacket, and said she never wanted to see it again. I tore it up;
+she was displeased. To-night she took a dislike to my dress, and told me
+not to come near her till morning. Behold me here; I think it probable
+that at this moment she is raising the house for me and desiring greatly
+to be rubbed. These things are instructive to her. I have put her to
+sleep every night by rubbing, and now she will not sleep. Poor lady; so
+sad for her!"
+
+All this was said quietly, pensively, with an air of mild consideration.
+Margaret looked at her, wondering. No one had ever crossed Mrs. Peyton
+before. One "companion" after another had been engaged, been tyrannized
+over for a few weeks, and then dismissed. What would be the effect of
+this opposite treatment? Timid herself, she had always met the vagaries
+of her beautiful friend with, at most, a gentle protest. If matters were
+too bad, she stayed away for a week, and was sure to find the lady in
+her most winning mood at the end of that time; but she had never
+attempted any more severe measure than this.
+
+"Do you think--do you feel as if you were getting hold of her at all,
+Grace?" she asked. "She is really very fascinating, when she wants to
+be."
+
+"I am not fascinated!" said Grace; and for a moment the half-whimsical,
+half-reckless look, which was her usual expression, gave way to one that
+was stern enough. "Mrs. Peyton appears to me to be a wholly selfish
+person; a thing rarely met with in such entirety. I have promised my
+Good Physician that I will try to rouse her, and see if there is any
+scrap of woman left inside this pretty shell; I am going to do my best.
+I think it doubtful if there is, but I am going to do my best."
+
+Peggy gazed at her with adoring eyes and felt absolute assurance that
+Mrs. Peyton would shortly be converted into an angel. Did not Grace
+always do what she undertook to do?
+
+With one of her sudden movements, Grace turned to her, and put her hands
+on her shoulders. "Behold my Innocent happy!" she said. "What of the
+other Owls, Babe? Do they hoot happily, and flap friskily?"
+
+"Oh, Grace, they want to hear from you so much! The Snowy is really
+anxious. She is afraid you are sick, or--or something. Do write to her,
+dear; won't you?"
+
+"The Snowy," said Grace, "is one of the few wholly satisfactory persons
+in the world. I have an immense respect for the Snowy, as well as a
+strong affection. If I could write to anybody, I think it would be to
+her. It may even be done, Innocent. Who knows?"
+
+"She was afraid--" Peggy hesitated.
+
+"She was afraid," said Grace, coolly, "that I was going on the variety
+stage. Yes; but you see, I did not. But I admit there are grounds--yes,
+I will write, Innocent. And now I must go," she added, rising. "I may
+come again, Margaret? Tie a white ribbon on the window-tassel when you
+do not want me. Good night!"
+
+"Oh, but, my dear, you are not going out in that way!" cried Margaret,
+in distress. "Why not go down-stairs and out of the door, like a
+Christian?"
+
+"There is nothing distinctively unchristian, I hold, in going by way of
+the window," replied Grace, her hand already on the sash. "Consider, I
+pray you, the rapture of the one method, the futile stupidity of the
+other. Enough! I am gone."
+
+She slipped lightly over the sill and was gone, leaving the others
+staring at each other. Peggy ran to the window and looked after her.
+"She is all right, Margaret!" she cried; for Margaret was visibly
+distressed and alarmed. "The woodbine is very thick and strong, and
+there is the spout, too. There! She is down now, all safe. Good night!
+oh, good night, dear Goat!"
+
+About this time, Hugh Montfort, having said good night to his uncle and
+the two Merryweathers, sauntered down the garden walk, for one more
+turn, one more look at the night. It was a wonderful night. The moon was
+full, and Fernley lay bathed in a flood of silver light, that seemed to
+transform the old brown house into a fairy palace, stately and splendid.
+There was no wind, and no sound broke the stillness; yes, it might well
+be an enchanted palace, where every living thing lay fast bound by some
+mighty spell. The leaves drooped motionless from the branches; beyond
+the dark masses of trees, the broad lawns lay in green and silver.
+
+"It's more like something Greek!" said Hugh. "Tempe, or some such place.
+If a dryad, now, were to come out from that great tulip-tree--good
+heavens!"
+
+He stopped short, in the deep shadow of a clump of chestnut-trees.
+Something moved, behind the very tree he was looking at. A figure came
+lightly out into the open; a woman's figure, slight and supple, clad in
+shadowy white. A dryad? No! the girl he had seen in the summer-house. He
+knew the face, as it shone upturned in the moonlight; knew the firm
+mouth and chin, the blue eyes, the look of careless power; seen once
+only, it was as if he had known the face all his life.
+
+What was she doing? A smile lighted her grave eyes suddenly. She
+extended her arms, her face still raised to the moon. Her whole figure,
+light as thistle-down, began to sway, to drift hither and thither over
+the silver-green lawn. Dancing, was she? It was no human dance, surely;
+the name was too common for this marvel of motion. A wave cresting and
+curling toward its break; a cloud blown lightly along a summer sky by a
+gentle wind; a field of grain, bending and rippling under the same wind.
+Hugh thought of all these things, and rejected each in turn, as unworthy
+of comparison to this, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He
+watched her, as if in a dream of delight; each moment it seemed that he
+must wake, and find the lovely vision gone. It was too rare, too perfect
+to be real. It seemed as if all the moonlight in the world were drawn to
+this one spot, to shine on that white figure, dancing, swaying, hither
+and thither--
+
+Ah! it was over. She stopped; threw, it seemed, some words upward toward
+the moon, accompanying them with a wave of her hand. Then she turned
+away, and passed slowly out of sight, under the dark trees. As she went,
+she began to sing; softly at first, a mere breath of sound; but as she
+passed farther and farther on, her song rang out clear and sweet; the
+voice and the song that he had heard the night before, in the field
+beyond the wall:
+
+        "Trois anges sont venus ce soir,
+         M'apportaient de bien belles choses!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+ABOUT NOTHING IN PARTICULAR
+
+
+"Jerusalem!" said Philip Merryweather.
+
+"And Madagascar!" responded his twin brother. "Well, what did I tell
+you, old Towser?"
+
+"Yes, I know; but last night, you see, I was half-asleep, and didn't see
+it all. This is what I call a room."
+
+Phil sat up in bed, and looked about the great nursery, into which the
+early sun was shining brightly.
+
+"The bigness of it!" he said, "if nothing more. You could have quite a
+track round this, do you know it? Most rooms are all walls; I hate
+walls. Shove the furniture into the middle, and chalk a six-foot
+track--hey? What do you say?"
+
+"This!" replied Gerald, throwing a pillow with accurate aim. "Does it
+occur to your arboreal, if not river-drift mind, that there are people
+under this room? Heehaw! excuse me for not sooner addressing you in your
+own language. Here, belay that! I want to know what you think of them
+all."
+
+"Jolly!" was Phil's brief but emphatic verdict. But Gerald seemed to
+demand something more. "Isn't Mr. Montfort the most corking person you
+ever saw?"
+
+"Except three, I should say he was. That lame chap is a corker, too.
+Reminds me a bit of the Codger, I don't know why."
+
+"So he does!" said Gerald, eagerly. "I didn't see it before. Queer
+stunt, too, because she always makes me think of Hildegarde."
+
+"Who? Miss Peggy? I don't--"
+
+"No, no! Who said anything about Miss Peggy? Miss Montfort, of course."
+
+"They are all Miss Montforts. You mean Miss Margaret? Well--I see what
+you mean. She hasn't Hildegarde's beauty, though. Very attractive,
+but--"
+
+"That's what I mean!" said Gerald, eagerly. "There's something of that
+quiet way, that takes hold of you and--oh, I didn't mean that they
+would be taken for sisters. Look here, Elderly Ape, was you thinking of
+getting up, or should I bring his gruel, and feed him wiz a 'poon, a
+pretty toddlekins?"
+
+"A pretty toddlekins will break your pretty noddlekins," replied Philip.
+"Avast there, and heave sponges!" And the conversation ended in a grand
+splashing duet executed in two enormous bath-tubs that stood in
+different corners of the great room.
+
+It was a merry party that met at breakfast. John Montfort looked round
+the table with pleasure, and wondered how he had ever sat here alone,
+year after year, when this kind of thing was to be had, apparently for
+the asking. Margaret's sweet face, opposite him, was radiant; it struck
+Mr. Montfort that he had never seen her look so pretty before. The
+delicate rose-flush on her cheek, the light in her eyes, an
+indescribable air of gaiety, of lightness, about her whole figure--
+
+"Why, this is what she needed!" said Mr. Montfort to himself. "The
+children were all very well; I am all very well myself, for an old
+uncle, but children and old uncles are not all that a lassie needs. Ah,
+well, it is all as it should be. We remember, Rose!"
+
+Gerald, at Margaret's left hand, was talking eagerly. If her face was
+radiant, his was sparkling. For the first time in his life, it is
+probable, he seemed to take little heed of his breakfast.
+
+"Do you remember the thunder-storm, Miss Montfort? and the way that
+little chap ran around the long corridor? He's going to make a great
+runner some day. Cork--very nice little fellow. You say he isn't here
+now? I'm sorry! I wanted the Ape to see him."
+
+"The Ape?"
+
+"The Old Un. My brother, Long-leggius Ridiculus. Christian name Philip,
+but what has he done that I should call him that?"
+
+Margaret laughed. She did not fully understand, but everything Gerald
+said seemed to her funny. "What does he call you?" she asked. "Or do you
+invent new names every day? Last night I heard you calling him--what was
+it? Ornithorhynchus Paradoxus?"
+
+"It might have been!" said Gerald, with modest pride. "I can 'gleek
+upon occasion.' I can also sling a syllable with the next man. It is
+only at monosyllables that I draw the line. When I call him Ape, I have
+to tack an adjective to it, or things happen. Miss Montfort, you don't
+know how glad I was to come. It was awfully kind of Mr. Montfort to ask
+us. I've always wanted to come again, and I didn't know when I should
+have a chance. There--there isn't any other place like this in the
+world, I believe. I've told the Ape a lot about it, and he was keen to
+see it, too. What a cork--that is, what an extremely fine fellow your
+cousin appears to be."
+
+"Do you mind if I ask," said Margaret; "is 'cork' a complimentary term?"
+
+Gerald blushed. "Why, you see," he said, rather ruefully, "I made up my
+mind that I would drop it when I came here. 'Corker,' and
+'corking'--well, it means that a person is all right, don't you know?
+That he's awfully jolly, and--and--corking, in short. It's the thing
+fellows say nowadays. I get into the way of it, and then I go home, and
+the Mater says things to me. She doesn't like slang, and of course you
+don't either, Miss Montfort. I'll try not to do it again, truly I will."
+
+"Oh, but I don't mind that kind of slang!" said Margaret; and she
+wondered at herself even as she spoke. "It--it seems so funny, somehow.
+I suppose when slang is really funny--"
+
+She looked up and caught her uncle looking at her with an expression of
+amusement. She blushed in her turn, stammered, and took refuge behind
+her coffee-urn.
+
+Meantime Peggy and Philip had fallen deep in conversation. He was the
+brother of Gertrude Merryweather, the beloved Snowy Owl of Peggy's
+happiest school-days; that was enough for Peggy. She was used to boys
+and brothers, and felt none of the shyness that often made Margaret's
+tongue trip and stammer in spite of her two years' advantage. Peggy was
+full of eager questionings:
+
+"How is she looking? dear lovely thing! Do you think she will go to
+college this fall? Oh, do try to make her! I do so want to have her back
+again,--near us, I mean. The Fluffy enters this fall, you know; the
+Snowy ought to come, too. Do try to make her, won't you, Mr.
+Merryweather?"
+
+Phil looked grave. "Said the kangaroo to the duck, this requires a
+little reflection!" he said. "The child Toots has her good points, as
+you observe, Miss Montfort. She is a rather nice child, and we like to
+have her at home. She has been at this old school three years, and I
+don't see the good of sisters if they are somewhere else all the time.
+Not that I should wish to stand in the way of the child Toots; but you
+see, Bell is off, too, and the Mater has been having things the matter
+with her,--rheumatism and that,--and the child Toots is useful at
+home,--uncommon useful she is."
+
+"Oh! but--of course I'm aw--dreadfully sorry your mother isn't well;
+but--but Gertrude wants to come, doesn't she? Oh, well, I shall hope it
+will be all right. And oh! what do you think, Mr. Merryweather? The most
+astonishing thing happened last night. I must write and tell Gertrude
+all about it. The Horny is near here."
+
+"The Horny? Not--"
+
+"Yes, Grace Wolfe. Think of it! Do you know her? Well, of course
+Gertrude has told you all about her. She is the most wonderful person in
+the world, and she is living close by here, taking care of some
+one,--you know she means to be a nurse. You know how wonderful she was
+when that poor girl was so sick at school--and she has been staying at
+Doctor Flower's, and he persuaded her to come and take care of this
+lady. You must see her,--I want everybody to see her. She isn't like
+anybody else, you know. Why, just when you look at her you feel that; I
+don't know what it is,--I can't explain,--but it's there. And then her
+voice! When she sings, it's--it's like magic, somehow. Oh, dear! I wish
+I could express myself; I never know how to say things."
+
+"You are saying them beautifully!" said gallant Philip. "Besides, of
+course, Toots has told me a good deal about your wonderful friend. Does
+she still go climbing all about, disdaining doors and stairs, and using
+windows instead?"
+
+"Oh, hush!" said Peggy. "I don't know whether we are to speak of it or
+not, but--she came up the wall, and in at our window last night."
+
+"No!"
+
+"Yes, she did. Don't tell anybody, because she might not like it. She
+fluttered in like a bird, and stayed awhile, and then fluttered out
+again. And then--we heard her singing in the distance as she went back,
+and really and truly, it seemed like fairy music."
+
+Something made Peggy look up at this moment, and she caught Hugh
+Montfort's eyes fixed on her with so intent a gaze that she stumbled and
+blushed, and thought she had said something wrong. "Don't ask me
+anything about it," she murmured to her neighbor. "Perhaps--they may not
+like to have people climb up the walls here; I wouldn't get Grace into
+trouble for twenty worlds."
+
+"Hugh," said Mr. Montfort, "I am going to get you to do the honors of
+the garden and stables to these young gentlemen, as I am busy this
+morning. The girls have a dozen plans, no doubt; but perhaps Peggy and
+Jean would like to go with you and see the puppies, while Margaret sees
+to her housekeeping. How does that suit you all?"
+
+Every one acquiesced in the arrangement, and, as they went out into the
+garden, Peggy managed to slip beside her brother.
+
+"What did I say that was wrong, Hugh? You were looking at me as if I had
+done all kinds of things. Would Uncle John mind her climbing up the
+wall, do you think? She couldn't possibly hurt it; she is light as a
+feather; and Margaret didn't say anything about her not doing it again."
+
+A faint color crept into Hugh's brown cheek.
+
+"My dear little Peggy," he said, "you must not be so imaginative. It is
+a new trait in you. What possible objection could there be to a young
+lady climbing up the wall if she enjoys it? It seemed--a little unusual,
+I suppose, and so I was interested. Was I indiscreet? I hardly supposed
+you would be having confidences with young Merryweather quite so soon."
+
+"Hugh, don't be ridiculous. Then it's all right, and I am so glad! Thank
+you, dear."
+
+She was springing away, but Hugh called her back.
+
+"One moment, Peggy. This--this friend of yours seems to be a remarkable
+person. Has she other accomplishments besides climbing? Did I hear you
+speak of singing?"
+
+"Oh, Hugh, I wish you could hear her sing! You might have heard her last
+night, if you had only been out. It was full moon, and the moon makes
+her mad, she says. Anyhow, when the moon is out she is wilder than ever,
+fuller of--whatever it is that she is full of; I don't know, something
+like a spirit, or a bird. Once I saw her dance in the moonlight, and I
+shall never forget it as long as I live."
+
+"No more shall I," said Hugh, under his breath. "Thank you, Peggy," he
+said aloud. "Don't let me keep you, my dear; or were you coming with
+us?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know, Hugh; I want to do so many things, all at once. I
+want to show Jean the house, and the garden, and the summer-houses,
+and--oh! oh, you darlings! you beauties! Hugh, do look at these lovely
+duckies!"
+
+The "lovely duckies" were Nip and Tuck, who came leaping and dancing up
+the walk, wagging and sneezing, with every demonstration of frantic joy.
+
+"Which is which? Nip, oh, you dear! Give a paw! Do they know how to
+give a paw, Hugh?"
+
+"They know how to fetch," said Hugh. "Here, Tuck! here, boys! What have
+I got?"
+
+He held up a stick; straightway the dogs went mad, and yelled and
+danced, sneezed and yapped, like wild creatures. "Fetch!" said Hugh,
+throwing the stick. Together the puppies flashed off in pursuit; fell
+upon the stick and each other, and rolled over and over, still in
+frenzied voice and motion; finally came to an understanding, and, taking
+each an end in his mouth, came cantering abreast up to Hugh, and, laying
+the stick at his feet, looked up and asked for more, as plainly as ever
+did Oliver Twist. Here was a pleasant amusement for young people. The
+grave Hugh and the gay Merryweathers, Peggy and Jean, all became
+absorbed in picking up sticks and throwing them. There was no end to the
+puppies' enthusiasm, apparently; they yelled, and rushed, and yelled and
+rushed again; and when Margaret came out an hour afterward, anxious lest
+her guests should find time hang heavy on their hands, she found one
+and all flushed and breathless, hurling sticks and stones, and making
+almost half as much noise as the dogs themselves. At sight of Margaret,
+cool and pearly in her white dress, Gerald and Peggy dropped their
+sticks, and looked abashed; but Hugh called to her merrily: "Margaret,
+they are making great progress. I think my pupil has got farther than
+yours, though. Miss Margaret and I are training them for a prize
+contest," he added, turning to Gerald. "This is an extension of their
+usual practice, that is all."
+
+"Hurrah!" said Gerald, much relieved. "I was afraid she would think--I
+didn't know whether she would approve," he concluded, somewhat lamely.
+
+It _was_ amazing. It was rather as if the Venus of Milo had begun to
+sing light opera, Gerald thought; but after all, how much pleasanter if
+she should, than to stand there all day and wonder how she was going to
+eat her breakfast without any arms. With this shocking reflection,
+Master Gerald betook himself once more to the throwing of sticks, and
+the sport went on till Margaret called the puppies off, declaring that
+they would be too tired for their afternoon run.
+
+"She takes care of everything, you see!" said Gerald, aside to his
+brother. "All without any fuss; that's just like Hilda, too."
+
+"Yes," said Phil. "Appears to be a corker!"
+
+"I wish you wouldn't talk so much slang, Phil!" said Gerald. "What kind
+of word is that to use in speaking of Miss Montfort?"
+
+Philip looked up in amazement, and saw his brother flushed, and
+evidently annoyed in earnest.
+
+"Well, may I be split and buttered!" said Phil.
+
+"I wish you were!" said Gerald, forcing a laugh. "Come along, and don't
+be an ass!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+GRACE'S SYSTEM
+
+
+"Margaret!"
+
+"Yes, Mrs. Peyton."
+
+"Is that door shut? lock it, will you? and--just go and look out of the
+window, please. No one there? Thank you!"
+
+She sank back on her pillows with a sigh of relief.
+
+"What is it?" asked Margaret, soothingly. "What troubles you, dear Mrs.
+Peyton?"
+
+"I am frightened!" said Emily Peyton.
+
+"Frightened?"
+
+"Yes. I am afraid of that girl, Margaret."
+
+"What girl? You cannot possibly mean Grace?"
+
+Mrs. Peyton glanced around her. Evidently she did mean Grace.
+
+"She behaves so!" she said, in a low voice. "I don't think she is in her
+right mind, to begin with; it is terrible to be with a person who may
+break out into madness at any moment."
+
+"My dear," said Margaret, "you are absolutely and wholly mistaken. Grace
+is as sane as I am. She is one of the sanest persons I have ever known,
+it seems to me. Of course she is singular--eccentric, if you like. But
+what has she been doing, to disturb you so?"
+
+Mrs. Peyton glanced around her again, with an apprehensive glance.
+"Well!" she said, "I--I suppose I may as well tell you, Margaret. I have
+been ill so long, I may have become--a little unreasonable. There is
+nobody who cares; I never saw any reason why I should be reasonable.
+Having to lie here, it is a pity if I may not have my own way, don't you
+think so? I have had it, at any rate; I don't say that it has always
+been a sensible way; I detest sensible things and people. I can't
+imagine how I have endured you so long. I should not, if you were not
+pretty and prim."
+
+"Thank you!" said Margaret, soberly.
+
+"Don't interrupt me! This has been on my mind for two weeks, and I want
+to get rid of it. There is nobody else I can tell. Doctor Flower, like
+a veritable fiend, after sending me this firebrand, goes off to Europe.
+A physician should be indicted for going to Europe. Well--I don't know
+what to tell you, or where to begin. She--she frightens me, I say. I
+never know what she is going to do next. Yesterday--I felt wretchedly
+yesterday, Margaret; I was in acute pain all day. I suppose I was pretty
+impatient. I--well, I threw something out of the window in a pet,--my
+amethyst rope it was,--and she stood and looked at me quietly, as if she
+were taking notes of my appearance. I couldn't bear it; I told her to go
+after it. Just a little impatient cry, it was. My dear, in an instant
+she was out of the window. Gone, out of sight like a flash. I shrieked;
+no one heard me. I--you will not believe this, Margaret--I got out of
+bed, and dragged myself to the window, expecting to see her dead and
+shattered at the bottom. There she stood, cool as crystal, shaking the
+leaves from her dress. She looked up and saw me, and if ever I saw an
+elfish look--do you believe in witchcraft, Margaret? my nurse did; she
+told me some strange tales when I was a child."
+
+"No need of witchcraft in this case," said Margaret, smiling. "Grace is
+as active as a cat, and her special delight is to climb up and down
+walls. There is a grape-vine under this window, isn't there? That would
+be quite enough for the Goat, as they called her at school."
+
+"That isn't all," said Mrs. Peyton. "She's not right, I tell you; not
+canny, as Nurse used to say. You may laugh, Margaret Montfort. I tell
+you, lying here year after year, one gets to thinking all kinds of
+things. I could tell you--who knows the old woman was not right after
+all?--listen to this. Yesterday, this very yesterday, she was standing
+there by the mantel-piece, talking as quietly as we are talking now.
+Suddenly, without a word, down she falls in a swoon, or trance, or
+something unearthly. I had let the maids go out; we two were alone in
+the house. There she lay, and I thought she was dead. I got up again! No
+one knows what it cost me, Margaret. I have forgotten how to walk; I
+merely dragged myself across to where she lay. She was breathing; I
+could not see that she was paler than usual--she never has any color,
+you know. I called and screamed; I raved and wept, I believe; you cannot
+fancy how terrible it was, that living, breathing form, lying there, the
+lips almost smiling, but no sign, no twitching of an eyelid, only the
+beating of the heart, to tell me that she was not dead. Hush! do you
+know the story of Christy Moran? My nurse's grandmother used to know
+her. She was--I don't know what she was--but she used to do this very
+thing. They would find her sitting in her chair, breathing, but without
+speech or motion, and afterward they would hear of some devilish act or
+other, committed at that very hour, in some distant town or village, by
+a figure wearing her likeness. Don't laugh! don't laugh! I tell you, we
+don't know everything in this civilization that we talk so much about. I
+tried to say a prayer, Margaret,--I used to say them regularly,--but--and
+I had hardly begun before she opened her eyes and smiled at me like a
+child. 'Did you ever hear of catalepsy?' she says, and she went out of
+the room without another word, and left me to get back to bed as best I
+could."
+
+Margaret was silent, not knowing what to say. She had no doubt that
+Grace was acting upon some theory of her own, and was playing these wild
+pranks in the hope of rousing her patient to action and exercise.
+Certainly, to get Mrs. Peyton out of bed twice in two days was no small
+feat; still, Margaret's gentle mind shrank from the thought of forcing
+one so frail, so enfeebled by years of invalidism, into sudden activity
+which might be injurious, or even fatal to her. She could not betray
+Grace--what should she say? But there was no need of her saying
+anything, for Mrs. Peyton went on, hurriedly, hardly glancing at her
+auditor. Evidently it was a relief to her to free her mind.
+
+"Why don't I send her away, you may ask. Margaret, I ask myself the same
+question twenty times a day. My dear, she is too fascinating! She
+interests me so! Have you heard her sing, and tell stories? I have not
+been so interested for years. She makes me restless, I tell you; she
+makes me think of things I had forgotten, or that I said good-by to
+years and years ago. Look! she sits down on the floor here, beside the
+bed--in the night, often, when I cannot sleep, and she has been rubbing
+me--that is another reason why I do not let her go, Margaret; her touch
+is like healing balm; there is magic in it, I tell you. She sits down
+there, with her long hair falling all about her, in the moonlight,
+looking like nothing earthly, and she talks--or chants, rather,--there
+isn't anything like it, so I don't know what to call it--about foreign
+countries. She has never seen them, or she says she never has. That is a
+little matter to her; she knows all about them, twenty times as much as
+I do, though I used to travel till I hated the sight of a railway or a
+steamer. She tells me things about Sicily, and Norway, and the
+Hebrides,--old Icelandic legends,--about Burnt Njal, and those people;
+she makes me want to see the places, actually. There are plenty of
+places I have not seen. She says Iceland is a flower-garden in summer.
+Margaret, don't laugh at what I am going to say!"
+
+"Indeed, I am not laughing, dear Mrs. Peyton."
+
+"She says--this girl says--she thinks I could--get up. Get up and do
+things, I mean, like other people. Did you ever hear of such nonsense?"
+
+Mrs. Peyton laughed; but she looked eagerly at Margaret, and there was
+something in her eyes that had never been there before.
+
+Margaret leaned over her, and kissed the beautiful forehead. "I am sure
+you could!" she said; and at the moment she did feel sure. Something of
+Grace's spirit seemed to pass into her, and she felt a hope, a
+confidence, that had never come into her mind before. Why not? Why
+should it not be? Mrs. Peyton was still in middle life; she ought to
+have years of life before her. Why might she not be roused, be taught
+over again how to live, and to enjoy the good and glorious earth?
+Margaret's eyes kindled.
+
+"I am sure you could!" she repeated. "Let us try! Let me help Grace, and
+let us all try our very best, dear Mrs. Peyton. Just think how wonderful
+it would be to get well; to go about again, and be alive among live
+people. Oh, my dear, let us try!"
+
+But the lady's mood changed. In a flash, even as Margaret was gazing at
+her with eager, loving eyes,--eyes in which stood tears of affection
+and anxiety,--she changed. The mocking smile crept back to her lips, the
+light of interest died from her eyes.
+
+"Bah!" she said. "Little goose, what do you know about life and live
+people? It was to get away from them that I took to my bed, do you hear?
+There, go away! I have been talking great nonsense; forget all about it!
+Sick folks often talk nonsense. Give me something to play with, and go
+away! I had a new toy yesterday, an amber ball. It's in the top drawer.
+Ah! isn't that a beauty? Give it to me! See, how smooth and cool it is,
+Margaret! Do you think an amber necklace would be becoming to me? I can
+wear yellow, you know; blondes of my type rarely can, but it always
+suited me. Do you remember a story about the Amber Gods? It is one of
+the few stories I ever cared for. To-morrow I'll order a set of amber
+jewelry, bracelets and necklace, and--"
+
+She stopped suddenly, seeing the grave compassion in Margaret's eyes.
+
+[Illustration: "SHE LOOKED UP, AND SAW GRACE SITTING ON A BROAD, LOW
+BRANCH."]
+
+"Don't speak to me!" she cried, angrily. "You are thinking--I know
+what you are thinking--that I cannot wear necklaces in bed. You think I
+am a wretched, helpless, faded old woman. I hate you! Go away!" and
+Margaret went.
+
+As she passed along the garden-walk with bent head, musing soberly
+enough, something struck her lightly on the head,--a cherry, which fell
+at her feet. She looked up, and saw Grace sitting on a broad, low
+branch.
+
+"Come up!" said the Goat.
+
+Margaret smiled, and shook her head. "My dear Grace, I never climbed a
+tree in my life. I should not know where to begin."
+
+"Time you learned!" said Grace, gravely. "There is no knowing when the
+race will return to arboreal habits. Come, Margaret, I want you!"
+
+Margaret hesitated, and was lost. She looked about, half fearing, half
+hoping that somebody was in sight. No! no gardener came with his
+watering-can, no boy with his wheelbarrow. She turned back, to meet once
+more the compelling glance, and see the hand stretched out to help her.
+How it was accomplished, Margaret never knew, but, after a breathless
+moment, she found herself seated on the branch, too, clinging fast to
+the rugged bark, and not daring to look below.
+
+"All right!" said Grace, composedly. "See, now, what good cherries these
+are! I have permission from Madame to kill myself with them, and am
+doing my best. They are white oxhearts, the finest cherry that grows!"
+
+"Oh, but I daren't let go my hold of the branch," said poor Margaret;
+"and my head is so dizzy. Dear Grace, how shall I ever get down again?
+Won't you help me?"
+
+"Not now! Now it is necessary that you should stay for a space, and
+learn to accept this, as other situations. Begin gradually to look down
+and about you. Fix your eye on that apple-tree, the one with the
+hump-back; then let your eyes travel slowly, slowly, over the ground,
+till they come here, under our feet. There! you see it is easy. Is the
+dizziness gone?"
+
+"It is certainly much better. I think perhaps, in a little while, I may
+get used to it, but I am quite sure I never shall like it. Why do you
+like to climb so, Grace? Why is it more comfortable to sit in a tree
+than on a pleasant, safe seat on the grass?"
+
+Grace shrugged her shoulders. "Who can say?" she said. "I have always
+supposed that the soul of my grandam inhabited a bird. Shakespeare! And
+you know I am an owl myself in regular, if not in good, standing. What
+would you? It is my nature. And how do we find the Patient to-day? Did
+she tell you that she left her bed twice yesterday?"
+
+"Yes. Grace, it frightens me, all this wild work. Are you sure what you
+are doing?"
+
+"I am sure that there is nothing the matter with this lady. I think she
+can be brought back to health by foul means, but not by fair. I think
+that in this case the end justifies the means. _Voilà!_"
+
+Margaret looked at her earnestly; she met a gaze so full, so clear, so
+brave, that her own spirit rose to meet it.
+
+Suddenly Grace held out her hand. "Come!" she said. "Trust me, Margaret!
+I am not a hobgoblin, though I may pose as one now and then. Trust me;
+and--by and by--try to love me a little, for I loved you before ever I
+saw you."
+
+Margaret took the slender hand and pressed it cordially. "I will trust
+you!" she said. "I have doubted, Grace, I confess; doubted and feared;
+but now I shall not fear any more. Only--oh, my dear, don't frighten her
+more than you have to. She really thinks you are--not right; and some of
+the things she told me were certainly rather terrifying. That trance, or
+whatever it was--well--what was it, Grace?"
+
+Grace laughed, a laugh so merry and clear that the robins left off
+eating cherries to see what the sound might be. "What was it? My child,
+it was nothing. I fell down, I shut my eyes--again, _voilà_! Her mind
+was prepared for the marvellous, and she found it. Nothing simpler than
+that."
+
+"But you said something about--catalepsy! the very sound of that word
+always frightens me, because of a story I read once. I don't wonder it
+frightened Mrs. Peyton."
+
+"I asked her if she had ever heard of it. A simple question! Apparently
+she had. Come, let us eat cherries, and strive to approximate the
+lettuce. Do you feel any green crinkles in your veins yet? And how is
+the Innocent to-day? I love that child."
+
+"Dear Peggy! I left her trying to teach Tuck to keep a biscuit on his
+nose while she counted twenty. When I left, he could not get beyond ten,
+when it was devoured with yelps of joy. But I have no doubt Peggy will
+succeed in time; she has plenty of patience, and plenty of
+perseverance."
+
+Grace nodded sagely. "Plenty of patience and plenty of perseverance!"
+she repeated. "Great qualities, Margaret. I wonder if I have them. I am
+going to find out. Now--who is the tall person who is lame, and sits in
+a summer-house?"
+
+Margaret laughed. "He doesn't sit in a summer-house all the time," she
+said. "That is Peggy's brother, Hugh Montfort. I want you to know him,
+Grace; he is so delightful; I know you will be friends. Come over to tea
+this evening, won't you? Mrs. Peyton promised me you should; you know we
+have been trying for you ever since Peggy came. Do come! Uncle John is
+planning something for us; he will not tell me what, but it is sure to
+be something delightful. Promise that you will come; and then you must
+really help me get down, my dear, for the girls will be wondering where
+I am."
+
+"Your hands here--so! Let yourself swing clear--don't be afraid; hang
+still--now drop easily! There! was that so very dreadful? Good-by, cool,
+green, lovely one! I will come to-night; good-by!"
+
+"What will Rita say," Margaret questioned herself as she took her way
+homeward, "when I write her that I have been climbing cherry-trees, and
+getting down from them without a ladder?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+THE MYSTERIES OF FERNLEY
+
+
+"Now, Uncle John!"
+
+"Now, Margaret!"
+
+"Don't be tormenting, sir! You know that you promised us a new Mystery
+of Fernley, if we would all be good. We have been good; virtue shines
+from every one of us, doesn't it, Hugh?"
+
+"My eyes are dazzled," replied her cousin. "Most of it seems to come
+from the feminine side of the house, though, I fear. All that the boys
+and I have done has been to abstain from actual crime."
+
+"Oh, cherries!" said Phil.
+
+        "Up into the tree of cherry,
+         Who should climb but little Jerry?"
+
+"Pooh! pooh!" said Mr. Montfort. "What are cherries for except to eat, I
+should like to know? Yes, you have all been good children, and it is
+true that I promised--something. Sit down now, all of you, and I will
+tell you the story of the Lost Casket."
+
+The young people clustered about him, sitting on the floor, on cushions
+and footstools, on anything rather than the prosaic seat of an ordinary
+chair. Mr. Montfort looked around on their bright, eager faces. Margaret
+sat next him, his own Margaret, fair and sweet in her white dress, with
+the bright, joyous look that had grown so habitual to her of late. Next
+to her was Gerald Merryweather; it struck Mr. Montfort suddenly that
+Gerald Merryweather usually was beside Margaret. Beyond them again,
+Peggy and Jean, with Phil between them; Phil, who as yet preferred his
+sister Gertrude's society to that of any girl he had ever seen. At the
+other side of the ring, Grace Wolfe, sitting a little apart, with the
+curious air of solitariness that seemed to surround her even in company.
+Hugh Montfort was not far off, though, and his deep brown eyes were
+gazing at her intently.
+
+"Once upon a time," Mr. Montfort began, and was greeted with a chorus of
+disappointment. "Oh, Uncle John! You said it was true."
+
+"Not a fairy story this time, sir, please; give us the real thing!"
+
+"Will you be quiet, you impetuous creatures?" asked Uncle John. "It is
+true, so far as I know. And if you interrupt me again--"
+
+"We will not!"
+
+"Hear us swear!" cried the young people.
+
+"Once upon a time, then, some hundred and fifty years ago, there lived
+here at Fernley Mr. Peter Montfort, the great-great-grandfather of some
+of you. He was a worthy gentleman, with a pretty taste for engravings;
+that Raphael Morghen print of the Transfiguration, Margaret, that you
+are so fond of, is from his collection. He travelled about Europe a good
+deal, buying engravings; that is the only thing I know about him, except
+the fact that he married twice; and on this marrying twice hangs our
+story. Listen now, and you shall hear. His first wife (she was a Miss
+Rhinefels) died, leaving him with an only daughter, Christina Montfort.
+The only time the name Christina appears, I believe, in the family
+annals. At the time of her mother's death Christina was a woman grown;
+a handsome person, to judge from her miniature, and of strong feelings.
+She kept house for her father, and expected to do so all her days, as an
+early disappointment had disinclined her for marriage. When, after a
+couple of years, her father, being then a man of seventy, brought home a
+wife of twenty-five, Christina was, not unnaturally, incensed. She
+refused to speak to the newcomer, shut herself up in her own apartments,
+and had a special servant to wait upon her. This uncomfortable state of
+things continued for some time, when she sickened of some acute
+distemper, and died in a short time. She possessed some fine jewels,
+which she had inherited from her mother, and she was heard to say
+repeatedly that her stepmother should never lay a finger on one of them.
+It is supposed that she, or her servant acting under her orders, hid the
+casket containing these jewels somewhere in this house; at all events,
+they were never found after her death, and have never, it is said, been
+seen to this day."
+
+"Oh, Uncle John! but has any one looked for them?"
+
+"My dear Peggy, every one has looked for them. I cannot tell you how
+many Montfort ladies, in all these generations, have fretted their
+nerves and worn out their finger-nails, hunting for this Lost Casket. I
+specially requested your Aunt Faith, Margaret, not to mention it to you
+or your cousins when you were here together. I had seen so many vain
+searches, and heard of so many heart-burnings, in connection with it,
+that I thought it best to defer the information till--till later. This,
+however, seems a very favorable time. You are all too sensible, girls,
+to be unhappy if you do not find it. To tell the truth, I used to hunt
+for it when I was a boy. But you can have a grand game of hide and seek,
+with an object, imaginary or actual, at the end of it; and I wish you a
+merry game, young people, and I return to my conversation with the Sieur
+de Montaigne."
+
+He was surrounded in an instant, kissed, caressed, and thanked till he
+declared his life was in danger, and threatened to take up the
+hearth-broom in self-defence; finally they trooped off, to hold a
+consultation in the hall.
+
+"Shall we divide our forces and go in small parties?" inquired Hugh,
+looking at Grace.
+
+"I say we go just as it happens," said Peggy. "I think that will be much
+more exciting."
+
+"Perhaps it will," said Hugh, becoming resigned, as he saw Peggy link
+her arm in Grace's. "Come on, then, girls and boys! Suppose we begin
+with the garret; Margaret has been promising to show me its wonders ever
+since I came."
+
+On the second landing they paused to salute the old portraits, and Hugh
+must point out this or that one that had a familiar look.
+
+"This might be Margaret's self, I always think, Miss Wolfe; this
+sweet-faced lady in the silvery green gown. See! she has the same clear,
+quiet, true eyes, and her hair is the same shade of soft brown. A lovely
+face."
+
+"Are you looking at the Sea-green Me?" asked Margaret over his shoulder.
+"Our dear Rita liked it, and used to call it her Sea-green Margaret. But
+come now and look at the glorious Regina, who actually has a look of
+Rita herself. And I want Grace to see Hugo, too."
+
+[Illustration: "ON THE SECOND LANDING THEY PAUSED TO SALUTE THE OLD
+PORTRAITS."]
+
+She passed on, and Grace was about to follow, but Hugh detained her.
+"Just one moment," he said, speaking low. "This is a fine collection,
+Miss Wolfe, but I see no portrait of the Wood-nymph."
+
+"The Wood-nymph?"
+
+"Yes. Do you not know that a dryad haunts this garden of Fernley?
+Sometimes she is not seen, only heard in the dusk, singing magical
+songs, that fill whoever hears them with a strange feeling akin to
+madness. But sometimes--sometimes she leaves her tree, and comes out in
+the moonlight, and--dances--"
+
+He paused. Grace had started, and now looked up at him with a curious
+expression, in which anger, mirth, and fear seemed struggling for the
+upper hand. Before she could reply, a terrific scream rang through the
+gallery, startling the whole party. Turning, they saw Jean, who had run
+on before the rest in her eagerness to explore, standing at the farther
+end of the corridor, with open mouth and staring eyes, the very image of
+terror.
+
+"My dear child," cried Margaret, running toward her, "what is it? Are
+you hurt?"
+
+"What is it, Jeanie?" said Peggy, who was the first to reach her sister,
+and already had her in her arms. "Jean, don't gasp so! You have seen
+something; is that it? Margaret, what did I always tell you?"
+
+Jean nodded, still gasping, and clung to Peggy with eager, trembling
+hands. "Oh!" she moaned. "Peggy, save me! take me away! the closet; oh,
+the closet!"
+
+"What closet, dear? This one? Why, this is the broom closet. There is
+nothing here to frighten you, Jean."
+
+"The woman!" murmured Jean. "The dreadful dead woman! Peggy, I saw her
+eyes, and her long hair. Oh, I shall die, I know I shall!"
+
+"Oh, you poor lamb!" cried Margaret, laughing in spite of her
+compassion. She hurried to the closet and flung the door wide open. "It
+is only Mrs. Body!" she said. "Come and look again, Jean; it is the
+lay-figure, dear, nothing else in the world."
+
+"Lay figure?" faltered Jean, still trembling and hanging back.
+
+"Yes, the model. Grandmother Montfort used to paint a great deal, and
+she had this creature made to stand for the figure. Come and look at it,
+dear child."
+
+Gently and persuasively she drew the trembling girl forward; the others
+all pressed behind her.
+
+There on the floor of the closet lay a figure which might at the first
+glance have alarmed a stouter heart than fifteen-year-old Jean's,--the
+figure of a woman, scantily draped in white. The arms were stretched out
+stiffly, the face, with its staring eyeballs, over which fell some lank
+wisps of hair, was turned toward the door. No wonder Jean was terrified.
+
+"I am so sorry!" said Margaret. "The children, Basil and Susan D., found
+her in the garret last winter. They begged to be allowed to have her for
+a plaything, so they kept her in here, and had great fun with her. Her
+name is Mrs. Body, but she can take any part, from Ophelia to Simple
+Susan. She took tea with us once, when Uncle John was away, and she
+behaved beautifully; so you see you really must not mind her, Jean,
+dear."
+
+"It's no wonder she was frightened, though," said Gerald. "My right arm
+cleaves to the roof of my mouth, even now that I know who she is. Mrs.
+Body, my respects to you, ma'am, and I desire you of less acquaintance."
+
+While they were all laughing over Mrs. Body, and commenting upon her
+various points, Gerald slipped round to Margaret's side.
+
+"Miss Montfort," he said, speaking in a low tone, "do you remember the
+roarer?"
+
+"Indeed I do, Mr. Merryweather. Do you know, you never showed me the
+place. You had to go away the next day, you remember."
+
+"That is just what I was thinking," said Gerald. "I have never forgotten
+that burning moment when Mrs. Cook and I foregathered in the dark. I was
+thinking, what if the Lost Casket should happen to be somewhere about
+that place in the wall? and anyhow, it would be fun to explore it, and I
+promised to show it to you, and I like to keep my promises, because
+virtue is my only joy. Won't you come with me now, and let the rest go
+on? Awfully nice in the garret, I am sure, but--won't you come,
+please?"
+
+"Oh," said Margaret, "that would be delightful! But--it is quite dark,
+isn't it? and they have all the candles."
+
+"All except this," said Gerald, drawing a slender cylinder from his
+pocket. "Electric candle; you have seen them, of course. I brought it
+with me, intending some such exploration, if permitted. I ran up and got
+it, at Mr. Montfort's first word of this search. Come! the down-stairs
+hall. This way; oh, please, this way."
+
+Margaret hesitated, looking doubtfully at him. "I--don't know if I
+ought," she said. "I should like it of all things, if I thought--"
+
+"Don't think!" said Gerald, hastily. "Great mistake to think; wastes the
+tissues awfully. Action first, thought afterward! aphorism! Or if you
+must indulge in the baneful pursuit, think how much poor Jerry wants
+you. Poor Jerry! child of misfortune!"
+
+"Is that the way you get everything you want?" said Margaret, laughing,
+as she followed him half-reluctantly down-stairs.
+
+"One way; there are others. This is the best, since it procures me your
+company. See, now! in this niche here, behind the big picture!"
+
+He passed his hand along a panel; it swung back, revealing blackness.
+
+Margaret stared. "I never knew that was a door!" she said. "Mr.
+Merryweather, do you know, I think the person who built this house must
+have been a smuggler, a magician, and a detective, all in one."
+
+"Fine combination!" said Gerald. "I should like to have known the old
+codg--I mean gentleman. No deep mystery here, though, beyond the secret
+door. He did love secret doors, that ancestor of yours. He may have been
+an architect, and have thought door-handles unsightly, as they are. But
+see!"
+
+They were now standing in a deep recess, and he waved his candle to and
+fro. "This would appear to have been originally used as a kind of
+store-room, or drying-room. See those hooks; probably for hams--if not
+for hanging," he added. "If you prefer tragedy, Miss Montfort, you shall
+have it. There is room for ten persons to hang here, without touching.
+Their ghastly upturned faces, their blood-stained robes, glimmering
+spectral white in the--"
+
+"Oh, don't!" said Margaret. "You really frighten me. Yes, they must be
+for hams; now I think of it, I have heard Frances speak of the
+drying-closet. This wall is warm; it must be close against the kitchen
+chimney."
+
+"Jerusalem!" exclaimed Gerald. "Here are steps, Miss Montfort. Stone
+steps, leading down to a trap-door. Shall I help you down, or--no, I
+will go alone. When I open the door, a hollow groan will be heard, and
+the clank of iron fetters. Would you rather have me descend to Hades
+with a loud squeak, or shall a headless spectre arise, grinning and--beg
+pardon! anatomy at fault; grinning requires a head. That's the way! my
+genius is always checked in its soaring flight, and pulled back to earth
+by idiot facts."
+
+Running on thus, Gerald descended the stone steps, Margaret following to
+their top, timidly. Sure enough, there was a trap-door at the bottom,
+with a ring in it; a perfectly orthodox trap-door, suitable for the
+Arabian Nights or anything else. Gerald took hold of the ring, prepared
+for a vigorous pull; then paused, and looked at his companion. "I hear
+voices!" he said. "Hark!"
+
+They listened. A low murmur came up from below; the voices were muffled,
+by distance or intervening substances, and could not be distinguished.
+
+"Oh, do you think we'd better open it?" said Margaret, who had such a
+wholesome awe of the Mysteries of Fernley that she was prepared for
+anything in the way of the marvellous.
+
+"That is what I think!" said Gerald, cheerfully. "That's what it was
+made for, you see. A door that does not fulfil its destiny might just as
+well be something else, skittles, or a pump, or--other things. Now
+this--"
+
+As he spoke, he gave a vigorous pull; the door lifted, but at the same
+instant the candle slipped from his hand, and fell rattling into some
+unseen depth below, leaving them in blank darkness. Margaret uttered a
+cry of alarm. "Don't fall! Oh, pray be careful, Mr. Merryweather!"
+
+"All right!" said Gerald. "Stay just where you are, for a moment, while
+I explore this--aperture. Ha! the steps continue. You don't mind if I
+leave you in the dark for just a minute, Miss Montfort?"
+
+Margaret did not mind, once assured that her companion was not engaged
+in the congenial pursuit of breaking his neck. She began feeling about
+her in the darkness, darkness so thick it was like black velvet, she
+said to herself. She found the wall; it was warm, as she said; she began
+passing her hand mechanically along the bricks, counting them.
+
+A cheerful voice came up from below: "I have found the doughnuts--good
+ones!--and the--seem to be--yes! sweet pickles. Corking! And--now you've
+done it, my son! Jam, by all that's adhesive! Put my whole hand in.
+Jerusalem and Mad--"
+
+At this instant there was a sound as of a door thrown violently open; a
+flood of light filled the place; light, and an angry voice.
+
+"Who's this here in my pantry? Come out of that, ye rascal, before I set
+the dogs on ye!"
+
+Gerald Merryweather uttered a yell of delight. "Destiny!" he shouted.
+"My fate cries out. Quits, Mrs. Cook, quits! Come to my arms!"
+
+And Margaret, peeping fearfully down through the trap-door, beheld her
+guest waving one hand, a crimson one, in the air, and with the other
+embracing the ample form of Frances the cook; while behind them the
+grave Elizabeth looked wide-eyed, shading her candle with her hand.
+
+"For shame, sir!" said Frances. "Do behave, now, Mr. Gerald! I never see
+such a bold boy since born I was."
+
+"No, no! not bold; don't say bold, Mrs. Cook! Witness my blushing eyes,
+my tearful cheek, my stammering nose! Hush, listen, there's a good soul.
+Your doughnuts are food for the gods; also for Jerry. Poor Jerry; never
+had enough doughnuts in his life. You weep for him; let him dry the
+starting tear!"
+
+Drawing out his pocket-handkerchief, he gravely applied it to Frances's
+eyes and went on. "We are looking for the Lost Casket, Miss Montfort and
+I. If you can help us to it, Mrs. Cook,--
+
+        "I'll dress thee all in pongo silk,
+         And crown thee with a bowl of milk;
+         And hail thee, till my last breath passes,
+         The queen of sugar and molasses.
+
+A poet, as you observe. Nothing to what I can do, give me time and a
+yard measure. Now tell me--"
+
+Margaret's voice from above interrupted him.
+
+"Mr. Merryweather, there is a loose brick here. I can pull it quite out;
+and--yes--there is a space behind it, and--oh, can you bring the light?"
+
+To snatch the lamp from Frances's hand, blow her a kiss, and scramble up
+the steps again, was the work of an instant with Gerald. He found
+Margaret pale, with shining eyes, holding something in her hands.
+
+"No!" cried Gerald. "I say, you haven't--you have! eccentric Jiminy, you
+have found it!"
+
+"I think I have!" said Margaret, who was fairly trembling with
+excitement. "Look! the letters on the lid! oh, Mr. Merryweather!"
+
+The object she held was a box some eight inches square, of ebony or some
+other dark wood, banded with silver. On the lid were inlaid, also in
+silver, the letters C. M.
+
+"Christina Montfort!" said Margaret. "Oh, to think of my being the one
+to find it!"
+
+"I should like to know who else had the right to find it!" said Gerald.
+"Punch their--I mean, of course, if they were fellows; I beg your
+pardon, Miss Montfort."
+
+"It is locked," said Margaret. "We must wait, and try some of Uncle
+John's keys."
+
+"Take care!" exclaimed Gerald. "The bottom is dropping out. Hold your
+hand under it!"
+
+As he spoke, the bottom of the box, which was of some soft wood and had
+rotted through, dropped, and something rolled out and fell into
+Margaret's hand. She held it up to the light. It was a hawk's egg,
+neatly blown.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE EGG OF COLUMBUS
+
+
+"Why, yes!" said Mr. Montfort. "It is my egg, certainly."
+
+"Oh, Uncle John!"
+
+"Well, sir, then--"
+
+"Then you know all the--"
+
+"Was it--"
+
+"Did you--"
+
+"Tell am what--"
+
+Mr. Montfort put his hands resolutely over his ears, and shut his eyes.
+"When you are still," he said, "I will tell you all about it; till then
+I am a blind deaf-mute, with no benefit of modern instruction."
+
+A swift rustle, followed by dead silence. Cautiously opening his eyes,
+Mr. Montfort saw the whole company seated on the floor around his chair,
+gazing at him with imploring eyes, but motionless and mute. He laughed
+heartily, and threw himself back in his chair.
+
+"I promised you a merry game," he said. "Have you had it?"
+
+The young people nodded like mandarins, but uttered no sound.
+
+"I promised you nothing more. In fact, I warned you not to expect
+anything more. On your own heads be egg and emptiness.
+
+"Well, well!" he added, "since you are so good and dutiful, you shall
+have the whole truth. I found the box some forty years ago, when I first
+stumbled on that closet. My dear mother was timid, and had a great dread
+of the Mysteries of Fernley, imagining a secret staircase in every wall,
+and an oubliette under every floor. Somebody had frightened her when she
+came here as a child, by showing her I forget what dark passage or
+closet. So we were never officially told of the various pleasant places
+devised by the eccentric old ancestor, Peter, who, I have always
+believed, was a smuggler before he was a patriot, and hid kegs as well
+as commanders in his smoke-closet. You know the story of General
+Blankley and the hams, Hugh? Remind me to tell you some day. Well, this
+being so, of course we youngsters were keen set on discovery; and we
+formed a league, called the Hovering Hawks. Each of us had his private
+totem or sign; and when he made a discovery, he left a totem to tell
+that he had been there. Jim's was an oyster-shell, because he considered
+the world his oyster; Dick's was a ship, because he always meant to be a
+sailor; Roger's was a book, of course, for obvious reasons; and mine was
+an egg, Columbus's egg, because I meant to find things out. You see
+there was no overstock of modesty among us, more than there is among
+most healthy boys. We were ready for anything and everything. I dare say
+some of you may have found oyster-shells about, in various inaccessible
+places?"
+
+Grace started, and blushed; then hung her head. "I--I found one," she
+admitted. "It was in a cubbyhole in the parapet of the roof. I thought
+of bringing it away, but it seemed as if some one had wanted to leave it
+there, so I didn't touch it."
+
+"Jim's Retreat," said Mr. Montfort. "He stayed up there two days once,
+in a fit of sulks, and frightened my poor dear mother almost into an
+illness. Father Montfort was away from home the first day; the second
+day he came home, and went up after Master James. He was a powerful man,
+Father Montfort, and an excellent climber. Yes, poor old Jim! he did not
+climb again for several days. Well, as I was saying, after all this very
+egotistical digression, I found the box in question some forty years
+ago. I withdrew the--a--contents--and substituted for them my totem. The
+contents I put--elsewhere."
+
+He looked round the circle, smiling. Margaret, gazing earnestly at him,
+saw his face, for the second time since she had known him, change from
+that of a grave, thoughtful man into that of a mischievous boy, the
+eager eyes alight with fun, the lips twitching with laughter.
+
+"Wouldn't--you--like--to--know?" he began slowly, his eyes turning from
+one to the other. Suddenly he broke off.
+
+"There! the play is over, children. Margaret, you found the casket, you
+shall find the--run your hand along the back of my chair here, my dear;
+where it feels cold, press downward."
+
+Margaret obeyed. A long narrow box or drawer shot out from the rolling
+back of the great mahogany chair. Obeying Mr. Montfort's gesture,
+Margaret lifted out of the nest of silky cotton something that sparkled
+and glittered in the firelight. There was a long-drawn sigh from the
+girls, a grunt of surprise from the men, but still no one spoke.
+
+"The pearls are for you, Margaret. I always meant them for you, my dear.
+I have taken them out every birthday and Christmas and looked at them,
+but there was always something else I wanted to give you just then, so I
+put the pretty playthings back again. Peggy, these pink topazes were
+made expressly for you, even if they have been waiting some time. No
+earrings, thank heaven! I could not see my girls in earrings. The
+diamonds I sent to Rita as a wedding present; you remember them,
+Margaret. Deceitful, was I, not to tell you their history? My child, I
+said they were family jewels, and so they were. The turquoises must be
+Jean's; put them on at once, little girl! Very pretty; very becoming.
+Now,--any more? It seems to me I remember one more article--ah!"
+
+Margaret drew out a long, delicate, glittering chain. At sight of it,
+Grace uttered a low cry of delight. "What is it?" she said. "I never saw
+anything so beautiful. Water and moonlight? What are the stones, Mr.
+Montfort, please?"
+
+"Aquamarine," said Mr. Montfort. "They are beautiful, though not of
+great value. Now what shall I do with this last trinket, I wonder?"
+
+"There is only one person who can possibly wear it," said Hugh, under
+his breath. His uncle heard him, and shot a keen, quizzical glance at
+him, which caused the philosopher to retire suddenly behind the shadow
+of the curtain. Margaret glided to her uncle's side, and whispered in
+his ear. Mr. Montfort nodded, smiling. "Just what I was thinking,
+Margaret," he said. "You read my thoughts accurately. My dear Miss
+Grace--by the way, isn't it time for me to leave off the 'Miss,'
+considering my age, and how well we know each other? 'Miss Grace'
+suggests 'disgrace,' which can have no possible connection with you. My
+dear Grace, then, as Margaret and others have said, there is only one
+person present who ought to wear this chain, and that person is
+yourself. Will you accept it as a little gift from Margaret and me, and
+from Cousin Christina?"
+
+Grace drew back, her eyebrows coming together in a look Peggy knew well.
+"I--You must excuse me," she began; but Mr. Montfort, going to her, took
+her hand kindly: "My child, do not refuse me this little pleasure. You
+surely do not expect me to wear the chain myself? and Margaret has more
+trumpery than is good for her already. Besides, as I said, the thing was
+manifestly made for you, and for you alone. And, besides, again,
+Grace,"--he drew her nearer, and spoke low,--"besides, again, you are an
+explorer, too; if you had lived twenty-five years ago, we should have
+had great excursions together. Take it, my dear, if for no other reason,
+because it is the gift of the boy who put the egg in the box!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+IN THE TWILIGHT
+
+
+"How strange it seems without the boys!" said Jean.
+
+"And Uncle John!" said Margaret.
+
+"And Hugh!" said Peggy. "I wish they hadn't gone."
+
+"Oh, no, you don't, Peggy!" said Margaret. "It was such a great chance,
+to have the day on that wonderful yacht. Just think what a good time
+they are having! I only wish you could have gone too, but it is a
+bachelor party, you see."
+
+"Of course! Oh, I want them to have the fun, and it was very good of
+Captain Storm to let Uncle John take them all. Yes, they will have a
+glorious time; only--well, we miss them so horribly. Dear me, Margaret,
+isn't it strange that you should get to know people so well in such a
+short time? Why, I seem to know Gerald and Phil as well--better, in
+some ways, than I know Hugh. But then, I never feel as if I understood
+Hugh, he is so--he knows so much. Margaret, dear, it makes me happy all
+through to have you and Hugh know each other, and be such friends."
+
+"Indeed, it cannot make you so happy as it does me, Peggy," said
+Margaret, smiling. "He is a wonderful person, that brother of yours.
+Yes, he does know a most amazing amount, but he never makes one
+uncomfortable with his knowledge, as some clever people do. He is like a
+delightful book, that you can read when you want to, and when you don't
+it stays quiet on its shelf. When I want to know about anything, and
+Uncle John is somewhere else, or is busy, I just turn over a page of
+Hugh, and there I have it. Oh, by the bye, Grace, what was that stanza
+he was quoting to you this morning, just before he went away? Don't you
+remember? we were coming through the orchard, he and I, and we met you,
+and he said this. I have been trying all day to recall it."
+
+"Keats!" said Grace, briefly.
+
+"Yes, I know that; it was from 'La Belle Dame sans Merci,' but I cannot
+get the whole stanza. Won't you repeat it? I know you have almost the
+whole of Keats by heart."
+
+Grace hesitated, and murmured something about "a time for everything,"
+but finally, half-reluctantly, she repeated the stanza:
+
+        "'I met a lady in the meads,
+           Full beautiful, a fairy's child;
+         Her hair was long, her foot was light,
+           And her eyes were wild.'"
+
+"Yes," said Margaret. "Well--thank you, Grace! I just wanted to hear it
+in your voice; what I was thinking of was, that Hugh always knows just
+what to say about everything and everybody. He has the whole Golden
+Treasury in his head, and he always turns the right page. Do you
+remember the other day, when Michael was so stupid!"
+
+"Michael is always stupid!" said Jean.
+
+"Poor Michael! He is not very clever." (Michael was the stable-boy at
+Fernley, a new importation from Ireland, with a good deal of peat-bog
+still sticking to his brains.) "Well, the other day he was more stupid
+than usual, for he was sent in town to get some rolled oats that
+Frances wanted. Well, he brought back just plain oats; and when Frances
+wanted to know what he meant by that, he said, 'Sure, it's meself can
+rowl 'em about for yez, as well as that feller in the white jacket.'
+Frances explained the situation to him with more force than amiability.
+She was in a perfect storm, and poor Michael stood meekly, feeling of
+his ear as if she had actually boxed it, though really she only
+threatened to, and wondering what it was all about. Well, Hugh and I
+came along, and Hugh just looked at him, and said:
+
+        "'The ass upon the pivot of his skull
+         Turned round a long left ear!'
+
+There is no other quotation in the English language that would have
+fitted the case so perfectly."
+
+"You and Grace seem to know Hugh about a hundred times as well as Peggy
+and I do," said Jean, pouting a little.
+
+"Because they are clever, my dear, and we are not," said Peggy,
+cheerfully. "If you would learn things, Jean, English literature and
+all that, you might be able to talk to Hugh. As it is--"
+
+"Well, I think Phil and Gerald are ever so much more fun, anyhow!" said
+Jean, saucily. "Hugh is poky!"
+
+Seeing an elder-sisterly cloud gathering on Peggy's brow, Margaret
+hastened to interfere. "Girls," she said, "I have a confession to make.
+I was just going to make it, when the quotations turned me off the
+track. You know what Peggy was saying, about our all getting to know
+each other so well from staying in the house together. That reminded me
+of something, something I am very much ashamed of; and I think it would
+be good for my soul to confess it. But you must promise never to tell."
+
+"We promise! We promise!" cried all the girls.
+
+"Margaret," said Grace, "I have been looking for your sins ever since I
+came, but you were too clever for me; now I shall learn."
+
+"Not my fault," said Margaret, merrily, "if you are a bat as well as a
+dozen other animals, my dear. Well, girls--oh, I am ashamed, and it
+really is most astonishingly virtuous of me to tell you about it.
+Peggy, just before you came, I was very blue; deeply, darkly, most
+unbeautifully blue!"
+
+"Margaret! you, blue?"
+
+"Hear Peggy making rhymes! Yes, I, blue. You see, the children were
+gone, and I did miss them so, I hardly knew how to bear it. It is
+impossible for any one to have any idea, girls, how children, children
+that are little enough to need one's care, you know, and--and watching,
+and thinking about, and all--how they get inside your heart and just
+live there, all curled up in it, bless them! and these particular
+children are the very dearest ones that ever lived, I do believe. Well,
+so they were gone, and my heart seemed empty; wickedly and abominably
+empty, for there was my own dearest uncle, and there were you, my own
+Peggy, coming to spend the whole summer with me, and as if that were not
+joy enough for three people, let alone one, I made all kinds of plans,
+about studying, and teaching you housekeeping, and embroidery, and all
+kinds of things. We were going to read so many hours a day, and work so
+many hours,--my poor Peggy! you would have had an unmerciful kind of
+time!--and everything was going to be quiet and regular and cheerful; I
+never got beyond cheerfulness in my brightest dreams of the summer. But
+even the cheerfulness was far ahead, and just then--before you came--I
+really had difficulty sometimes in keeping a cheerful face for Uncle
+John when he came in. Why--must I tell the whole?"
+
+"Yes, Margaret, every word!"
+
+"I used to go up to Susan D.'s room and cry over her little pinafores
+and things. As for my pincushion, I fairly soaked it with tears when I
+first found it. I told you about the pincushion, didn't I? Why, that
+little lamb, for days before she went, was working away at something,
+she would not let me see what. After she was gone, I went up to my room
+for a quiet cry, and there was a gorgeous new pincushion, and 'I love
+you,' on it in pins. My dear little girl! Well, girls, so--that was the
+way I felt, and the way I acted, most absurdly; and then--all this
+happened. First Hugh dropped from the skies; and then Uncle proposed the
+house party, and you came, Jean, and the Merryweathers; and then you,
+Peggy; and we discovered our dear Grace; and so, instead of a quiet,
+rather humdrum summer, I am having the most enchanting, Arabian-nights
+kind of time that ever was. And how do you think I feel?"
+
+"Phil would say 'like thirty cents!'" said Jean, who was certainly a
+little inclined to be pert.
+
+"If I hear you say anything of the kind, young one, I'll swat--"
+
+"Peggy, dearest!" murmured Margaret, softly.
+
+"I'll speak to you very severely. I am ashamed of you, Kidderminster!"
+
+"Look here, Peggy, I won't stand that!" said Jean. "You promised me,
+when I first came, that you wouldn't call me that."
+
+"Then don't behave like a kid!" retorted Peggy. "There, that's enough.
+Yes, Margaret, it has all been perfectly delightful and fairy-like; and
+then the Mysteries, too, and the hunting, and the Silver Closet, and
+all. Oh, I am so glad we didn't find out everything that first summer. I
+suppose Uncle John thought we were too young and silly then; not that
+you were ever silly, you dear darling thing. But, Margaret, there is one
+thing wanting to it all, and only you and I know what that is."
+
+Margaret nodded. "Yes," she said, with a little sigh. "We want our
+Princess, Peggy. Oh, Grace, if you only knew our Rita! How you and she
+would love each other! Peggy, you said that just at the right moment,
+for I have her last letter in my pocket, on purpose to read to you, and
+I am sure the others would like to hear it, too. Would you, girls?"
+
+There seemed no possible doubt on the subject. All the girls gathered
+about Margaret, sitting on the floor, as they liked best to do. Margaret
+herself took possession of her favorite low chair, and drawing the
+letter from her pocket, began to read:
+
+        "BELOVED MARGUERITE:--I am of return only
+        yesterday from an expedition to the hills, and
+        I find your precious letter waiting for me. No
+        need to tell you that I pressed it to my heart,
+        covered it with kisses. Jack says your letters
+        are the sole thing of which he is jealous. I
+        grieve to hear that you must lose those little
+        ones whom you love so well, even for a short
+        time; but courage, _Margarita mia_; there are
+        other flowers besides roses, and summer is a
+        pleasant time. You will have Peggy with you,
+        dear Peggy! She sends me a photograph, which
+        shows her little changed in the face; still the
+        dimples, still the soft roundness of cheek and
+        chin. Best of Peggys; if I had her here, what
+        great joy! But I must tell you of our ride. We
+        went, Jack and I, up to the hill camp, where we
+        went last year, after the terrible ride you
+        know of. There we spent three happy days,
+        camping in the green hollow among the hills,
+        with only Juan to cook for us and care for the
+        horses. Ah, Marguerite, what a time was that!
+        We visited every spot made sacred to us by our
+        love. The hiding-place, near poor Don
+        Annunzio's house, where I first saw my hero,
+        swinging in his hammock. Have I told you that I
+        thought him a skulker, a coward hiding to
+        escape warfare? How often we have laughed over
+        that! Then we passed along the road, so
+        peaceful now, so wild and horrent then (how is
+        this word, 'horrent,' Marguerite? I find it in
+        a poem, it seems to me noble; I tell Jack, he
+        laughs, and says something like 'high falu--' I
+        cannot tell what!). We paused to weep over the
+        gray heap where once smiled the _residencia_,
+        where that kind old woman and her good vast
+        husband sheltered the wandering maiden,
+        protected her at the risk of their own lives,
+        and--one of them, as you know--died to save her
+        and others. Then farther, to Carlos's old camp,
+        where Manuela and I lived, and where I first
+        learned to be of a little use in the world. Ah,
+        the memories, how they came crowding back! I
+        have told you that Manuela is married to Pepe?
+        Yes; two months ago. The wedding was charming!
+        I gave her her wedding-gown, of finest muslin,
+        suitable to her condition,  with plenty of
+        lace and ribbons, which the poor child values
+        highly, and I dressed her hair (poor Manuela!
+        She would have done it far better herself; she
+        has a wonderful gift. My present maid is a poor
+        creature, but Manuela is to give her lessons),
+        and arranged the veil and wreath. She was a
+        vision of enchantment, and really thrown away
+        on poor Pepe, who never looked at either dress
+        or veil. Jack says 'neither did he.' My dear,
+        these men! To what purpose do we adorn
+        ourselves, exhaust the treasure of our souls,
+        in efforts to please them? But I wander from my
+        story. My child, this expedition, carrying back
+        heart as well as body to the scenes of before
+        our marriage, has told me over again the story
+        of my happiness. Marguerite, how to deserve it,
+        this wonderful bliss? I study, I try, the dear
+        Saint teaches me always many things--in vain! I
+        am debtor to the whole world, and how much more
+        to the gracious Power above worlds! But enough
+        of this, my Pearl! Your time will come; till
+        then you know nothing of it. I pant for your
+        awakening, I burn, Marguerite, but I am
+        powerless. If I had you here, there is a friend
+        of ours, a paladin, a Roland, second only to my
+        Jack--no! This makes you laugh, I feel it, I
+        see your cool, pearly smile. I am angry with
+        you for laughing, yet I laugh, too. So! now of
+        other things. I think of you always; Jack also;
+        I have told him so much, he assassinates
+        himself with desire to see you all. The time
+        will come! Marguerite--no matter! One word
+        only! Our beloved Uncle's birthday; I remember
+        the day, the Fourteenth. You will honor it, I
+        know, as such a day should be honored, the day
+        which blessed the earth with the best
+        man--except  one--that breathes mortal breath.
+        Marguerite, if on that day a trifle should come
+        from the far-away cousins, you will receive it
+        kindly? Ah, how well I know the answer! Bless
+        you, my treasure! I must go to my housekeeping.
+        Dear Donito Miguelito is staying with us now;
+        you can fancy the joy of tending this saintly
+        old man in his feebleness. I prepare myself the
+        little dishes that please him; it is a sacred
+        task; it is like feeding a holy butterfly.
+
+               "Adios, my Marguerite!
+                           "Ever and ever your devoted
+                                             "RITA.
+
+        "You ask of Concepcion. She is married to Diego
+        Moreno, and, as I hear, is very unhappy. Poor
+        woman, I compassionate her!"
+
+After the reading of the letter, Grace slipped away to return to her
+patient, and the three cousins sat together, talking in low tones of
+Rita, and of Grace herself. Jean maintained stoutly that Rita could not
+be so fascinating as Grace. Peggy and Margaret insisted that, though
+totally different in quality, neither could outdo the other in amount of
+charm.
+
+"They are both the kind of girls you would do anything for!" said Peggy;
+"just anything in the world, no matter how foolish, just because they
+wanted you to. It isn't a thing you can describe; it just _is_, and
+nobody can help it."
+
+"Well, I should think the difference would be in the kind of thing they
+would ask you to do," said Jean, with wisdom beyond her years. "Grace
+wouldn't ask you anything foolish, and I should think Cousin Rita
+might."
+
+"Grace!" exclaimed Peggy; and then checked herself loyally. "Grace
+wasn't always so wise as she is now, young one!" she said, simply.
+
+"Well, she's a dear, anyhow; I think Mrs. Peyton might have let her stay
+all night. It's horribly poky, with Uncle John and the boys and
+everybody away. Why, Margaret, there isn't a single man about the place,
+is there? Bannan drove them over, and then he was going to the
+cattle-show, and so was Michael. Suppose there should be robbers, or
+anything!"
+
+"Suppose there should!" said Peggy, coolly. "If Frances and I and the
+dogs could not arrange matters with a robber, it would be a pity.
+Margaret--what is this queer light? Has everything turned red, all of a
+sudden?"
+
+[Illustration: "A TALL, SLENDER FIGURE HALF RAN, HALF TOTTERED INTO THE
+ROOM."]
+
+"The moon rises late to-night," said Margaret. "I have no idea what
+time it is now. It seems an hour since Grace went."
+
+"The moon isn't red, anyhow!" said Peggy. "I believe--"
+
+As she spoke, she rose and went to the window. "Girls!" she cried.
+"There is a fire somewhere near. Come and look!"
+
+Margaret and Jean pressed hastily forward to the window. It was a
+strange scene on which they looked. All of a sudden, the world seemed
+turned to red and black. A crimson light suffused the sky; against it
+the trees stood black as ebony. Even as they looked, a crest of flame
+sprang up above the tree-tops, wavered, and broke into a shower of
+sparks; at the same instant their nostrils were filled with the acrid,
+pungent smell of wood smoke.
+
+"Oh, what is it? Where can it be?" cried Margaret.
+
+"Maybe it's only a bonfire!" said Jean.
+
+Peggy shook her head. "Too big for a bonfire!" she said. "I'll go out
+and see, Margaret. What a pity the boys should miss it! I'll come back
+and let you know--mercy! what's this?"
+
+The door opened, and a tall, slender figure half ran, half tottered
+into the room. "Margaret!" cried a wild voice of terror. "Margaret
+Montfort, save me!"
+
+"Good heavens! Mrs. Peyton!"
+
+"Yes, Emily Peyton. My house is burning. I ran all the way here. I--"
+
+Margaret and Peggy caught her as she fell forward, and laid her on the
+sofa, and while Jean ran for water and Elizabeth, chafed her hands and
+her temples, looking the while anxiously at each other.
+
+"Can you tell us what happened?" asked Margaret, trying to keep her
+voice quiet and even, for Mrs. Peyton was in the wildest agitation. "You
+escaped, thank Heaven! but--is the fire serious? Who is there now? Where
+is Grace Wolfe?"
+
+"Don't leave me!" said the sick woman, with a ghastly look. "Margaret,
+if you leave me I shall die. She--she went back for the jewels. She is
+in the house now."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+THE FIRE
+
+
+The three girls reached the door in the same instant, but Mrs. Peyton
+followed, and still held Margaret's arm in a desperate clutch.
+
+"Don't leave me!" she repeated. "Margaret, don't leave me to die!"
+
+But Margaret put the clinging hands away. "You are not going to die,"
+she said. "You are going to sit down in this chair, Mrs. Peyton, and be
+quiet till I come back. See, here is Elizabeth, with water and cologne,
+and everything comfortable. By and by you shall go up-stairs, but rest
+here now; nothing can happen to you, and I will come back as soon as I
+can."
+
+Wondering at her own hardihood, Margaret ran out, shunning the wild
+pleading of the beautiful eyes which she knew were bent upon her. Jean
+was waiting for her on the step, but Peggy had disappeared.
+
+"She said we were to go on," said Jean, "and she would catch us up.
+Which way, Margaret? I don't know the way."
+
+Margaret led the way through the garden, running as she had never run
+before. They had not gone a hundred yards when Peggy was at their side.
+She had a coil of rope slung over her arm.
+
+"It may be wanted," she said. "I remembered where it always hung. Oh, if
+the boys were only here!"
+
+They ran on in silence, Margaret echoing the cry in her heart. At every
+step the glare grew brighter, the rolling smoke thicker. Margaret
+noticed, and wondered at herself for noticing, that the under side of
+some of the leaves above her head shone red like copper, while others
+were yellow as gold. Every patch of fern and brake, every leaf of box or
+holly, stood out, clear as at noonday.
+
+On, down the long cedar alley, the dew dripping from the branches as
+they closed behind them; over the sunk fence, and across the lower
+garden to the summer-house, Hugh's summer-house. Once Margaret would
+have shuddered at the drop into the meadow below, but Grace's climbing
+lessons had not been given in vain, and, without a moment's hesitation,
+she followed Peggy down the old willow-tree, landing knee-deep in fern
+below.
+
+Now they could hear the roar of the flames, the crackling and snapping
+of burning wood, and, looking up, they saw on the brow of the rise
+beyond, the flames tossing and beckoning over the dark firs of
+Silverfield.
+
+Five minutes more, and, breathless with running, they stood on the lawn
+before the burning house.
+
+The side facing them was already wrapped in flames. Long wavering
+tongues shot through the open windows, and curled round the woodwork,
+lapping it; they purred and chuckled like live creatures over their
+food; they leaped up toward the roof, running along its edge, feeling
+their way higher and higher, while now and then one sprang aloft,
+tossing its scarlet crest over the rooftree itself. Evidently the fire
+had started in the upper story, for in the lower one, though the smoke
+poured dense and black through the open windows, there were no flames
+to be seen yet. Furniture, books, and knick-knacks of every description
+were scattered about the lawn in wild confusion, and two men, half
+stifled with smoke, were struggling frantically with a grand piano, one
+hacking at the window-frame with an axe to widen the opening, the other
+trying desperately to unscrew the legs, as if that would mend matters.
+Seven people out of ten, at a fire, will leave untouched pictures and
+books that can never be replaced, and spend their time and energies in
+trying to save the piano.
+
+The group of frightened women huddled together on the lawn had made
+their attempt, too, to save some of their mistress's property. Even in
+her terror and anguish, Margaret could hardly keep back the thought of a
+smile at their aspect. One clasped a sofa-pillow, one a pair of vases. A
+stout woman, evidently the cook, had a porcelain kettle on either arm,
+and another on her head, while her hands clutched a variety of spoons,
+ladles, cups, and dippers. She evidently had her wits about her more
+than the others, and she was scolding the parlor-maid, a trembling,
+weeping creature, who was holding a small china bowl in both hands, as
+if it were a royal treasure.
+
+"She likes her malted milk in it, you know she does, Mary," said the
+girl. "Only yesterday she was telling me never bring her any bowl except
+this. It's cruel of you to harry me for trying to save what she likes."
+
+"You green goose! What will she want wid the bowl and you not leaving
+her a spoon to sup wid! Where is the key of the safe, I'm askin' ye!
+Maybe James could get it out yet."
+
+"Oh, I don't know! I don't know! I expect I dropped it. I was going to
+get the silver myself; I'd ha' got all of it, without you telling me,
+but when I opened the pantry door, the fire leapt out at me, roaring
+like the pit, and I dropped the key and run. I'm awful sorry, but I've
+got the bowl, and I do wish you'd let me be."
+
+A little apart stood Antonia, the French maid, bearing on her
+outstretched arms a superb tea-gown of violet velvet, embroidered with
+pearls. On it lay a pile of costly laces, slightly blackened by smoke,
+but uninjured. Antonia had done her best, and had saved the treasure of
+her heart. Margaret ran up to her.
+
+"Antonia, where is Miss Wolfe?"
+
+The woman did not seem to hear the question, but burst into agitated
+speech. "Oh, mademoiselle, mademoiselle!" she cried. "Ah, the tragedy!
+of all the robes arrived from Paris last week, but only last week, this
+only remaining! It was all I could save, all! I tried; I burned myself
+the hands, mademoiselle, to rescue the others, the blue crape, the
+adorable lace _jacquettes_, the _satin rose-thè_--in vain, all gone, all
+devoured! _Mon Dieu_, and madame had not even had them on! But the lace,
+Mademoiselle Montfort, the point d'Alençon, the Valenciennes, all, I
+have it safe. See, mademoiselle, regard for yourself, _un peu noirci_, a
+leetle blackened, _voilà tout_! It is without price, the point
+d'Alençon, you know, Mademoiselle Marguerite."
+
+"Antonia, do you hear me? What do I care about the laces? Where is Miss
+Wolfe?"
+
+"She's mazed, miss!" said Mary, the cook. "She can't talk about nothin'
+but that stuff. Sure Miss Wolfe is at Fernley wid the mistress. It's
+wondher ye didn't meet them on the way, miss. She went wid Mrs. Peyton,
+and me and the other girls stopped behind to see what we could save."
+
+"Oh, no!" cried Margaret. "Mrs. Peyton came alone. She said Miss Wolfe
+came back--for the jewels. She said she was in the house now."
+
+"Lord help her then!" said the parlor-maid. "If she's in the house now,
+she's as good as dead, and worse, too. The stairs has fallen in; Thomas
+seen 'em fall. Oh, dear! oh, dear! what an awful time!"
+
+"Be still, Eliza!" said the cook. "Where's Jenny? She was in the
+sewing-room, next to Miss Wolfe's; maybe she'd know something. Who saw
+Jenny since we come out? Good Lord, where is the child? I thought she
+come with me."
+
+"Oh, Jenny's all right!" moaned Eliza. "She'll have gone straight home.
+She was going home to spend the night anyway, Mary; don't be scaring us
+worse. It's bad enough to lose Miss Wolfe, poor young lady, and she so
+bold and daring!"
+
+"_Hold your tongue!_" said Peggy. "Listen to me, girls, and answer
+plainly, and not all at once like a flock of foolish sheep. Did any one
+see Miss Wolfe go into the house?"
+
+"No, miss, no; we see her go with Mrs. Peyton, and we never thought but
+she was all right."
+
+"She may not be there after all!" said Peggy. "Her room is on the other
+side, isn't it, Margaret? Come on!"
+
+They ran round to the other side of the house. This was apparently still
+untouched, though the fiery tongues came darting over the rooftree every
+now and then, hissing and lapping, and the roof itself was covered with
+sparks and great patches of burning tinder, fragments of the costly
+stuffs and tissues that the house-owner had so dearly prized. The
+windows were closed and silent, but all was bright as day in the red
+glare of the fire.
+
+"Call, Peggy!" whispered Margaret. "I have no voice."
+
+Even as she spoke, a window in the second story was thrown up, and there
+stood Grace herself, very pale, but quiet as usual.
+
+"There's a young woman faint here," she said. "Too much smoke. The
+stairs are gone. Is there a ladder, Peggy? Ah, rope! Much better. Clever
+child! When I say three--throw!"
+
+Oh, the good days on the Western farm, when little Peggy, on her rough
+pony, scampered here and there, lassoing the sheep and calves, and
+getting well scolded in consequence! Oh, the other good days at school,
+where nerve and muscle learned to follow the quick eye, so that thought
+and action seemed to flash together!
+
+The rope hissed upward like a flying snake, but a cloud of smoke drove
+past the window, and the outstretched hands missed it. Again it flew,
+and this time it was caught, drawn up, and knotted tight inside the
+window.
+
+"Now if I had a ladder!" muttered Peggy.
+
+"I saw one," cried Margaret; "I am sure I did. Wait!"
+
+She flew off, and returned followed by a boy with a ladder. It proved
+short by several feet.
+
+"Oh, what shall we do!" cried Margaret.
+
+"Hold the ladder steady!" said Peggy. "She'll see to that end, and I
+can manage this. Hold it!"
+
+Margaret and the boy grasped the ladder; Peggy ran up it, and stood on
+the top rung, holding the lower end of the rope.
+
+"All ready, Goat!" she called.
+
+"Ay, ay!" said the quiet voice within. "Coming, Innocent!"
+
+The women had followed Margaret and Peggy, and now a cry broke from
+them.
+
+"She's got her!"
+
+"'Tis Jenny! She was in there all the time!"
+
+"She's dead!"
+
+"She's not; she's living, I see her move. Oh, Mother of Mercy, they'll
+both be killed before their own eyes!"
+
+What was Grace doing? The form she held in her arms was that of a slight
+girl of fifteen or so. She was knotting something round her, under arms
+and over breast; something half sling, half rope; towels, perhaps, tied
+strongly together. Now she brought the ends over her own shoulders,
+bending forward.
+
+"Now, Peggy!"
+
+"Now!"
+
+With the unconscious child bound to her back, Grace leaned out and
+grasped the rope; another moment and she was swinging on it, clinging
+with hands and feet, the old school way.
+
+Margaret covered her face with her hand and prayed. Peggy, steadying the
+rope with one hand, held out the other, and waited.
+
+Down, hand over hand! Slender hands, to bear the double burden. Delicate
+shoulders, to carry the dead weight that hangs on them. Are they elastic
+steel, those fingers that grip the rope, never slipping, never relaxing
+their hold?
+
+Down, hand over hand! the hands are bleeding now; no matter! the white
+dress is black with smoke, and blood drips on it here and there; what of
+that? it is nearly over.
+
+"Now?" Peggy asked, quietly.
+
+"Now!"
+
+Steadying herself, Peggy left the rope, and received the burden in her
+arms. Grace, holding the rope with one hand, with the other loosed the
+knot, and laid the limp arms over Peggy's neck.
+
+"All right?" she said.
+
+"All right!"
+
+"_Ainsi long!_" and as Peggy carefully slowly descended the ladder,
+Grace turned and began quickly and steadily to climb the rope again.
+
+"Grace! Grace!" cried Margaret. "For God's sake, what are you about?
+Come down! There is no time to lose; come down!"
+
+"And behold, all is vanity!" said Grace; and she disappeared inside the
+burning house.
+
+But Margaret could bear no more. She helped to take the senseless girl
+from Peggy's arms and lay her on the grass; then the world seemed to
+slip from her, and she dropped quietly with her head on Jenny's
+shoulder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+JEWELS: AND AN AWAKENING
+
+
+"Are you better?" said Gerald. "Are you truly better, Miss Margaret? I
+am going to drown myself anyhow in the first bucket I find, and if you
+don't feel better I shall make it a dipper, and that would be so
+inconvenient, don't you know?"
+
+Margaret looked at him, only half hearing what he said.
+
+"Yes, I am better; I am very well, thank you. What happened? Did I
+faint?"
+
+"Yes! you fainted, just as we came up. They wanted to pour water over
+you, but I always think it's such a shame, in books, to spoil their
+clothes, and you have such pretty clothes. So I wouldn't let them. It
+wasn't Peggy, it was a lot of fool cooks and things."
+
+"Did something hurt me?" asked Margaret, vaguely, still feeling that
+she was somebody else making friendly inquiries about herself.
+
+"Yes, I--I pinched you, you dear, sweet, pretty--at least, I don't mean
+that! at least I do mean it, every word, only highly improper under the
+circumstances, but I don't care so long as you are better."
+
+Making a strong effort, Margaret sat up and looked about her. She was
+still on the Silverfield lawn, but some one had drawn her away from the
+neighborhood of the burning house, now a shapeless mass, though still
+burning fiercely, and had pillowed her head on a rolled-up coat. Her
+companion was in his shirt-sleeves, so it was evident whose coat it was.
+
+As she gazed at the blazing ruins, memory came back in a flood.
+
+"Grace!" she cried, wildly. "Where is Grace?"
+
+"Safe," said Gerald, quickly. "Safe and sound. Not a hair singed, though
+it sounds impossible. Most astonishing person I ever saw in my life.
+Came down the rope like a foretopman, hung all over with jewels:
+brooches, chains, and owches, you know,--Scripture,--kind of
+rope-walking Tiffany. You never saw such a thing in your life. Hadn't
+much more than touched the ground, when the roof fell in. Standing luck
+of the British Army, I call that!"
+
+"Oh, thank God! thank God! but where is she? where are they all?"
+
+"Mostly gone to take the fainted girl home. She didn't come to just
+right; choked with the smoke, Hugh thought. Phil and Peggy are carrying
+her, and Miss Wolfe giving moral support. Hugh has gone for the nearest
+doctor. The fool cooks have gone in search of their wits, I suppose;
+they didn't seem to be anywhere round here."
+
+"And--Jean? she was here too; is she all right?"
+
+Gerald hung his head. "She was left to take care of you," he said. "I
+told her I was a medical man, which is strictly untrue, and asked her to
+go back to Fernley to get something, cologne, or rum, or mustard,--I
+forget what I did say. The women bothered and made a noise, so I advised
+them to proceed in the direction of Jericho. Great place, Jericho! They
+went--there or elsewhere. Don't get up yet, please don't! it's always
+better to lie still after a fire, or a faint; how much more after both
+combined!"
+
+"Oh, I must!" said Margaret. "I must go home at once, Mr. Merryweather,
+truly. Oh, thank you, but I can get up perfectly well--only my head is
+queer still. I wish--why did you send Jean away?"
+
+"I didn't want her," said Gerald, meekly. "You looked so pretty--"
+
+"Please don't talk nonsense!"
+
+"I'm not. It's my truthful nature. It comes out in spots, like measles,
+in spite of me. When I was only six years old, I told my nurse she was a
+hideous old squunt, and she was. Fact, or at least justifiable fiction.
+If you must get up, won't you take poor Jerry's arm? just once, before
+he drowns himself? it's your last chance!"
+
+"What _do_ you mean? Why should you drown yourself?"
+
+"Because I missed all the fun, and let you faint, and Miss Wolfe get
+nearly burned up, and Miss Peggy a sight to behold with smoke and
+water, and Hugh all tied up in t l k's, and all for a day's yachting.
+Not that it wasn't great yachting, but there is a sense of proportion."
+
+"What are t l k's?" asked Margaret, smiling faintly. She was recovering
+her composure, and Gerald noted with inward thankfulness her returning
+color. His running fire of nonsense, kept up in the hope of rousing her
+to interest, covered an anxious heart, but he gave no sign.
+
+"T l k's? true lover's knots! none of my business, of course, but the professor
+appears to be interested in the fairacrobat--acrobatess--acrobatia--what
+you will! Give you my word, when he came round the corner and saw her
+coming down that rope, I thought he would curl up into knots himself.
+Jolly stunt! when I first came I was awfully afraid--" Gerald pulled
+himself up suddenly, and blushed scarlet.
+
+"Afraid?" said Margaret, innocently. "Afraid of what?"
+
+"Of bats! When they squeak, I desire to pass away."
+
+"Mr. Merryweather!"
+
+"If you call me Mr. Merryweather any more, I _shall_ pass away, without
+benefit of buckets. Say Gerald! just try it, and see how pretty it
+sounds. Gerald! 'tis a melting mouthful! Sentimental, if you will, but
+what then?"
+
+Margaret laughed in spite of herself. "I must say, as Frances did, I
+never see such a bold boy since born I was!" she said. "Well, Gerald,
+then; and now, Gerald, here we are at the house, and would you please go
+round the north way, and not come into the library just now? Thank you
+ever so much for helping me! No, I must go in, I truly must."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mrs. Peyton was sitting bolt upright on the sofa on which they had laid
+her. Her face was absolutely colorless; it might have been an ivory
+statue, but for the ghastly look of the blue eyes. She fixed her eyes on
+Margaret, but said nothing. Margaret ran to her, and put her arms round
+her. "Oh, how could they leave you alone?" she cried. "She is safe;
+every one is safe, dear Mrs. Peyton. No one hurt, only Jenny overcome
+with the smoke a little. I thought Jean would have told you."
+
+The ivory figure began to tremble. With shaking hands she tried to put
+Margaret away from her; then, with a sudden revulsion of feeling, she
+clung to her and burst into tears.
+
+"I sent them away!" she whispered through her sobs. "I would not have
+them look at me. Margaret--are you sure? that girl, is she truly safe?"
+
+"Truly and honestly, dear Mrs. Peyton. It was a most marvellous escape,
+but she is absolutely unharmed, and she saved another life beside her
+own. But for Grace, poor little Jenny must have been lost. She is a
+heroine, our Grace!"
+
+"I did not mean to kill her!" said the poor woman. "I did not realize
+what it meant. I said, 'My jewels! my jewels!' and I don't know what
+other nonsense. She never said a word, just turned and went back.
+Then--oh! then, when you were all gone, I understood, I saw, that I had
+sent her to her death for those--those horrible things. Never--never let
+me see them again! I have been sitting here--years, it seems to
+me--waiting to hear that she was dead; perhaps to see her body brought
+in, all--"
+
+"Oh, hush, hush, Mrs. Peyton! You will make yourself ill. You are only
+distressing yourself beyond all need. She is safe, I tell you. In a few
+moments you will see for yourself--"
+
+At this moment the door opened, and Grace stood before them. She was a
+strange figure indeed. Black with smoke, her fair hair gray with ashes,
+her dress torn and discolored; but sparkling with jewels as never was
+any ballroom belle. Superb necklaces of diamond and emerald hung around
+her neck; her arms glittered with bracelets, her fingers were loaded
+with rings, while ropes of amethyst and pearl were wound around her head
+and even about her waist.
+
+"All the way over," said Grace, "I have been pitying the robber who
+didn't meet me, and so lost the great chance of his life. So sad for
+him!"
+
+Margaret recalled Gerald's expression, "a rope-walking Tiffany," and
+could not help smiling in spite of her anxiety; but Mrs. Peyton hid her
+face in her hands.
+
+"Take them away!" she said. "Take them off, Grace! I never want to see
+them again. Horrible things, all blood and flame! who knows how many
+other lives they have cost? and it is no fault of mine that they have
+not cost yours. No fault of mine!"
+
+This was so true, that neither Grace nor Margaret spoke. Mrs. Peyton
+rose, and moved restlessly about the room.
+
+"Incidentally," she said, "I have got well."
+
+Grace glanced at Margaret, but still neither spoke. Mrs. Peyton gave
+Grace a strange look. "You didn't set fire to the house deliberately, I
+suppose?" she said.
+
+"I did not!" said Grace, bluntly. "To be honest, I have thought of
+it--thought, I mean, of the effect it might produce; but it isn't a
+thing one does in general society."
+
+"I remember!" said Mrs. Peyton, dreamily. "I remember. I did it myself."
+
+"Did it yourself?" cried Margaret, aghast. Grace was silent.
+
+"I threw the candle down. I had been looking in the glass, and I found a
+new wrinkle, a horrible one. I threw the candle down, and it fell on a
+roll of cotton wool. How it went! I can hear the sound now, and see the
+fire run--run!"
+
+"I wouldn't talk about it any more," said Grace, quietly.
+
+"I must. I must tell it all. She--Grace, there--found me; it had caught
+my bed, and the curtains were blazing. She carried me out of the room
+and down the stairs herself. What is she made of? She isn't so tall as
+I. Then--at the door--she set me down and told me to run, and I ran. We
+ran together, till the devil brought these things into my mind, and I
+sent her back to be burned up for my vanity."
+
+"I wasn't burned up," said Grace, composedly; "and as you remarked just
+now, Mrs. Peyton, you have got well. Do you want to know what I think?"
+
+"Yes, Grace--"
+
+"I think--that the game was worth the candle!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+FOR AULD LANG SYNE
+
+
+"Confess that I have surprised you, John Montfort!" said Mrs. Peyton.
+
+"I do confess it, Emily," Mr. Montfort answered, gravely. "But I am
+truly glad that my house has been able to afford you shelter when you
+were in need of it."
+
+"That is as much as to say, that under other circumstances--never mind!
+I am not going to quarrel with you, John."
+
+"I trust not," said Mr. Montfort, still speaking with grave courtesy.
+
+If Margaret had been present, she would have wondered at the change in
+her uncle's face. The warmth, the genial light of kindness, was clean
+gone out of it; it was an older and a sterner man who sat in the great
+armchair and looked steadily and quietly at his visitor.
+
+Mrs. Peyton smiled, then frowned; at last she sighed.
+
+"I never meant to hurt you, John," she said, softly. "Thirty years is a
+long time to hate a person who--who never hated you."
+
+"I have never hated you, Emily," said Mr. Montfort, not unkindly. "Our
+paths have not crossed--"
+
+Mrs. Peyton laughed. "No, they have not crossed. You took care of that.
+They have only run alongside each other--with the garden wall between."
+
+"And nothing else?" said John Montfort.
+
+She was silent for a moment. Then, "I never meant to make trouble
+between you and Rose!"
+
+"You never did," said Mr. Montfort, tranquilly.
+
+"I know! but--you thought I tried. I did tell you a lie that night, when
+I said she would not see you. How could I know that she was going to die
+before you came back from the West? I--I wanted to see you myself; that
+was no such dreadful sin, was it? I was sorry--sorry, I tell you, when I
+heard of her death. Thirty years ago, and I have never been able to
+speak to you alone till to-day. I--I had to burn my house down to get a
+chance to make my peace with you, John Montfort. No, I don't mean that I
+did it on purpose, though I am not sure that it wouldn't--aren't you
+going to forgive me, John, after all these years?"
+
+Mr. Montfort rose. He was very pale, but he spoke steadily. "Emily, it
+is hardly strange that I do not care to open old wounds. If I have been
+unkind, I am sorry for it. I do forgive you, fully and freely. Now, let
+the past alone. What can I do for you in the present, and how help you
+to provide for the future? I have not been a good neighbor, I confess
+it; I will try to prove myself a better one henceforward."
+
+Mrs. Peyton laughed her little mocking laugh. "It will be easier than
+you think, John. I am going to Europe, and I don't know whether I shall
+ever come back."
+
+"Going to Europe, Emily? Are you strong enough?"
+
+"I am perfectly well!" said Mrs. Peyton, simply. "Doctor Flower has been
+telling me for several years that there was nothing really the matter
+with me any more, and that I could be well if I wanted. Grace Wolfe made
+me feel the same thing. Well, now I do want it. The fire lighted up a
+good many things for me, and showed me the way. I have no house to live
+in; I am alone in the world; I may as well be doing things as staying in
+bed, of which I am really very tired. I am writing to my man of business
+to take places for Antonia and me on next week's steamer for Paris. I've
+half a mind to take Grace Wolfe, too, if she will go."
+
+"I have asked Grace to make her home with us for the present," said Mr.
+Montfort, quickly. "Next year I expect to take her and Margaret abroad
+together."
+
+Mrs. Peyton laughed again. "I can't even have her! Well--never mind. I
+love her, but she frightens me. She might have catalepsy again,--though
+I rather think that was a clever device for getting me out of bed,--and
+I want to forget everything connected with sickness. But--John--there is
+something you can do for me. This girl risked her life to save my
+jewels, the playthings I have tried to amuse myself with these many
+years. I want you to sell them for me, and give her the money."
+
+"Sell your jewels, Emily!"
+
+"Yes. I never want to see them again." She shuddered slightly, but her
+voice was firm and steady.
+
+"They are all here, in this basket. Lock them up now, and the next time
+you go to town sell them, and invest the money for Grace Wolfe. Will you
+do this for me, John? It is the only thing I shall ever be likely to ask
+you."
+
+"Indeed I will, Emily!" said Mr. Montfort, speaking with much more
+warmth than he had hitherto shown. "It will be a grateful commission.
+Shall I look?--these things are of great value, Emily. There are
+thousands of dollars' worth of trump--of trinkets here."
+
+"So much the better for Grace!"
+
+"There is nothing you would like to keep? None of these diamonds?"
+
+"No; I detest diamonds! When a complexion begins to go--never mind!
+Stay, though! Margaret liked that pink pearl; sweet little prim
+Margaret, who has given me most of the little pleasure I have had these
+last three years. You'll let her have it, John? I beg you to let me
+give it to her!"
+
+"Surely, surely, my dear Emily. It is a beautiful gem, and I am glad
+that my Margaret should have something to remember you by while you are
+gone. And now shake hands, for I must be off."
+
+"You are going away?"
+
+"For the night only. I was to have spent two or three days in town on
+business, but hurried home on hearing of the fire. I shall be back
+to-morrow, or next day at latest."
+
+"And--I may stay here till then, John?"
+
+"My dear Emily, I earnestly beg that you will stay as long as it is
+convenient to you. You must have many things to arrange; pray consider
+Fernley as your own house until you have everything comfortably
+settled."
+
+"Thank you, John! I heard your own voice then, the kindest voice
+that--good-by, John Montfort!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Gone, you say, Margaret? When did she go? I fully expected to see her
+again."
+
+"This afternoon, Uncle John. We could not persuade her to stay longer.
+Her man of business came down this morning early, and arranged
+everything with the farmer and the servants, and finally took her and
+Antonia back with him. It is very sudden! I should be frightened at her
+attempting the voyage, but Grace says it is just what Doctor Flower has
+been wishing and hoping for. Poor Mrs. Peyton! I shall miss her very
+much, Uncle John. She is very, very lovable; and, somehow, these few
+days have so softened and changed her--I hardly know how to put it, but
+it is as if her heart had waked up after a long sleep."
+
+"Perhaps it has!" said Mr. Montfort, thoughtfully. "Poor Emily! she has
+had an unhappy life; yet when she was your age, Margaret, Emily
+Silverton thought she had the world at her feet. Life is instructive, my
+child. Did she tell you what she had done about Grace?"
+
+Margaret shook her head. "She said you would have something to tell me,
+but she would not say anything more. She was bent on keeping control
+over her nerves, I think, so I tried just to keep things quiet and
+cheerful, and I saw that was what she wanted. What is it about Grace?"
+
+Thereupon Mr. Montfort told the story of the jewels, and how he had
+taken them to town with him the day before. "It will be a great change
+for our Grace," he said. "She has had very little money, I think you
+told me, Margaret?"
+
+"Oh, almost none, Uncle John. She has had a very, very hard time; and
+since her father died last year--she seems to have no other
+relations--she has supported herself entirely. Oh, this is a kind thing
+of Mrs. Peyton; and I understand just how she feels and why she wants to
+do it. Aren't the jewels worth a good deal, Uncle John?"
+
+"Guess how much, little girl!"
+
+"How can I? Perhaps as much as a thousand dollars? Oh, Uncle John!"
+
+"Perhaps, Margaret; my child, Tiffany's head man thinks,--he could not
+price them all exactly,--but, roughly speaking, he thinks--that this
+collection is worth--fifty thousand dollars. Grace is, comparatively
+speaking, a rich woman."
+
+Margaret stood speechless, in utter amazement. At this moment there was
+a sound, as of a book falling to the ground, and a smothered
+exclamation. Both started and looked round, as Hugh Montfort rose from
+the corner where he had been seated and came slowly forward. He was very
+pale, and seemed to bear more heavily on his stick than usual.
+
+"You knew I was here, Margaret?" he said, with a look that tried to be
+unconcerned. "I trust I have not overheard anything that I should not. I
+was writing, and thought you saw me when you came in."
+
+"No secrets, my boy, no secrets!" said Mr. Montfort, heartily. "You
+heard this great piece of news about our little friend, did you? She
+does not know it herself yet; Margaret must tell her. Margaret, you have
+deserved this pleasure, my dear, and I rejoice in making it over to
+you."
+
+The good man was glowing with pleasure and good will; but for once he
+met no response from Hugh, who, pale and gloomy, stared before him as if
+he had seen a ghost.
+
+"My dear fellow," cried Mr. Montfort, changing his tone at once, "you
+are not well. How pale you are! or--you have had no bad news, Hugh?
+Nobody ill at home, eh? Your father--"
+
+"No, no, sir, all well! Father is in perfect trim; I have just been
+reading a letter from him, Uncle John; you must hear it, sometime when
+you are not busy. Don't look at me like that, Margaret! I--my head aches
+a little, if I must confess. Did you never see any one with a headache
+before?"
+
+Was it possible that Hugh was out of temper? Neither Mr. Montfort nor
+Margaret could believe it at first; both gazed at him, expecting the
+usual kindly smile to begin in his eyes and break gradually over his
+face; but no smile came. Mr. Montfort, who had lived many years and seen
+many things, was the first to recover himself; he passed Hugh with a
+friendly pat on the shoulder, and, nodding to Margaret, went out of the
+room. Margaret remained still, looking earnestly in her cousin's face,
+unconscious of offence.
+
+"Dear Hugh," she said, affectionately, "I am so sorry! Let me get you
+something--one of those tablets that relieved you last time."
+
+"No, no!" said Hugh. "It is nothing, Margaret, nothing at all. So Miss
+Wolfe is a rich woman, is she, and spoilt for life? And you are glad,
+you and Uncle John! Well, I am sorry, for my part; sorry from the bottom
+of my heart. It is an iniquity."
+
+"Hugh!"
+
+"It is! She will grow into an idle fine lady, like this very Mrs.
+Peyton, who throws about her gewgaws at every whim. Her life will be
+frittered away over dresses and frippery and fashion. Instead of a
+worker, a real woman, with a woman's work and aims, you will have a
+butterfly, pretty and useless, fluttering about in the sunshine, unable
+to bear rough weather. A fine piece of work it will be, the ruining of a
+girl like that."
+
+Margaret stood aghast, and for a few moments found no words. Her
+cousin's face showed that he was only too deeply in earnest; his eyes
+glowed with sombre fire, and a dark red spot burned in his cheek. When
+Margaret did speak at last, her eyes were tender, but her voice was
+grave, almost stern. "Hugh," she said, "I hardly know you; and I see
+that you do not know Grace in the least. I thought--I thought you
+did--understand her, better perhaps than any one else did; but if you
+can say such things as these, I see I was utterly mistaken. She, spoiled
+by a little prosperity? Oh, how can you? For shame, Hugh!"
+
+Hugh looked up at her suddenly. "Oh, Margaret!" he said. "Margaret, have
+patience with me! I--I am not myself to-day. My head--there is something
+wrong with me."
+
+"Yes, dear," said Margaret, tenderly. "Go and lie down, Hugh, won't you?
+And I'll bring you some cracked ice. That always helps a little."
+
+"I don't want to lie down, and I don't want any cracked ice; thank
+you all the same, good little sister-cousin! I'll go out into the
+garden, I think. The trees will be the best thing for me to-day.
+And--Margaret--forget what I said, will you? It is none of my business,
+of course; only--good-by, little girl!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+IN THE GARDEN
+
+
+"But, Grace--"
+
+"But-ter, Margaret!"
+
+"My dear, please don't be absurd!"
+
+"My angel, I am not half so absurd as you are. Why, in the name of all
+that is incongruous, should I take this lady's money? Is thy servant a
+dog, that she should do this thing?"
+
+"Listen, Grace! You are wholly, utterly wrong. Listen to me! Let us sit
+down here by the summer-house and have it out. No, you have said enough;
+it is my turn now. You talk about yourself, and your independence and
+freedom, and I don't know what. My dear, I want you to forget yourself,
+and think of her."
+
+"Of her? What difference does it make to her?"
+
+"All the difference in the world, it may be. What is that noise?"
+
+"It is I!" said Hugh, emerging from the summer-house. "I seem fated to
+be an eavesdropper, and yet I am not one by nature. Pardon me, young
+ladies!"
+
+He was about to pass them with a formal bow, but Margaret, with a sudden
+inspiration, caught his arm. "No!" she cried, "I want you to hear what I
+am going to say. You, too, misunderstand--sit down, Hugh, and listen!
+Please!" she added, in the tone that seldom failed to win any heart.
+
+Hugh hesitated, but finally sat down, looking very grim, and stared at
+the box-tree in front of him. Margaret went on, hurriedly, moved for
+once out of her gentle calm.
+
+"This lady--I must speak plainly, though she is my friend--has lived a
+selfish, empty, idle life. She was very beautiful and very rich, really
+one of the great beauties and heiresses, and--and that was all. She was
+brought up by a worldly aunt--her mother died when she was little--and
+married to some one whom she cannot have cared for very much, I am
+afraid; and she never had any children. Then came all this ill health.
+Oh, Grace, I can't help it if it wasn't all real, she certainly has
+suffered a great deal; and through it all she has been alone, loving no
+one, and with no one to love her. She will not see any of her own
+people, cousins--she has no one nearer; she says they are all mercenary.
+I don't know, of course, but it is one of the terrible things about
+having a great deal of money, that you think everybody wants it, whether
+they do or not. Now, at last, before it was too late,--oh, I am so
+thankful for that,--the change has come. She has waked up, and it is all
+owing to you, Grace. Yes, it is! I have been fond of her, and she has
+petted me, and been very good to me, and given me things, but I never
+could open her eyes, try as I would. Now, you have done it, dear. You
+not only saved her life actually--yes, you did, Grace; she told me all
+about it; she never would have got out of that room alive but for
+you--you not only saved her life, but you have given her some idea of
+how to live. She wants to do something in return. It is the first time,
+I do believe, that she has wanted _really_ to help some one else. When
+she gave me prettinesses, it was because it amused her to do it, not
+because I needed them, nor because she was thinking specially about me.
+
+"Grace, if you refuse this; if you shut back the kindly impulse, the
+desire to help some one, I tell you you will be doing a wrong thing. It
+is nothing in the world but pride, selfish pride, that is speaking in
+you. Tell me again--tell Hugh, what Mrs. Peyton said to you when she
+went away."
+
+"She said--" Grace's voice had not its usual cool evenness, but was
+husky, and faltered now and then--"she said, 'Do not refuse my last
+wish! I do not tell you what it is, for fear you should refuse at once,
+and shut me up with myself again. Do not refuse, for the sake of
+Christian kindness, of which I have known nothing hitherto, but which I
+mean to learn something about if I can.'"
+
+"And then?"
+
+"And then--she kissed me--Margaret, it is brutal of you to make me tell
+this!--she kissed me twice, and said--" Grace's voice broke.
+"I--cannot!" she faltered.
+
+Margaret rose to her feet with a sudden impulse. "Hark!" she said. "Is
+that Uncle John calling me? Wait here, please, both of you!" and she
+ran off, never looking behind her. It was the first and last deceitful
+act of Margaret Montfort's life.
+
+There was a long silence. Hugh Montfort stared at the box-tree. Grace
+cried a little, quietly; then wiped away her tears, not noticing them
+much, and observed an ant running along the path. At last, "Well?" said
+Hugh.
+
+"Well!" said Grace. "I am sorry to have made such a spectacle of myself.
+Is there anything to say?"
+
+Hugh plucked a box-leaf and scrutinized it carefully.
+
+"They make these things so even!" he said.
+
+"Machinery never could--Let me tell you a story. Do you mind? Once upon
+a time there was a man--or--well, call him a man! He was part of one,
+anyhow, as much as accident allowed. He was not strong, but he could
+work, and he meant to work, and do things he cared about, and lead as
+good a life as he knew how. He had been a good deal alone, somehow,
+though he had dear good people of his own; he was an odd stick, I
+suppose, as odd as the one he walked with."
+
+He stopped, glanced at his stick, with its handle worn smooth as glass;
+then he went on.
+
+"He had never seen much of women, except his own family; never thought
+about them much as individuals, though always in his mind there was a
+dream--I suppose all men have it--of some one he should meet some day,
+who would turn the world from gray to gold. One day--he saw a vision;
+and--after that--he learned, not all at once, but little by little, that
+life was not full and rounded, as he had thought it, but empty and
+one-sided and unprofitable, if this vision could not be always before
+his eyes; if this one woman could not come into his life, to be his
+star, his light, his joy and happiness. She was poor, like himself. He
+thought of working for her, of sharing with her the honest, laborious,
+perhaps helpful life he had planned, the life of a Western forester,
+living among the woods and mountains, studying the trees he loved,
+learning the secrets of nature at first hand, teaching his beloved all
+the little he knew, and learning more, a thousandfold more, from every
+look of her eyes, every tone of her wonderful voice.
+
+"Well--while he dreamed--something happened. Suddenly, by a wave of a
+wand, as in the fairy tales, his maiden was transformed. Instead of the
+orphan girl, working bravely with her brave hands to earn her bread, he
+saw--a rich woman! saw the woman he loved condemned by the idle whim of
+an idle pleasure-seeker to sit with folded hands, or play with toys and
+trinkets. He was filled with rage; he hated the very sound of the word
+money, because--it seemed to him that this money would rob him of his
+darling. I--he--"
+
+Hugh broke off suddenly. "I am the greatest fool in the world!" he said.
+"Grace, do you understand me? Do you know what I am trying to say?"
+
+It was the merest whisper that replied, "I don't--know--"
+
+"Yes, you do." Hugh caught the slender hands, and held them close. "You
+know, you must know, that I have cared for you ever since that first
+wonderful moment, when you broke through the leaves like sunshine, and
+I saw the face I had dreamed of all my life. You must have felt it, all
+these weeks. Oh, Margaret is right, I suppose. All she says is true
+enough; if you can help this poor woman by taking her wretched money, I
+suppose you will have to do it. But--but I lose my princess, before ever
+I could win her. I can't ask a rich woman to be my wife."
+
+While Hugh was speaking, Grace's head had drooped lower and lower, as if
+she shrank under the weight that was laid upon her; but now she looked
+up bravely, with a lovely light in her eyes. "Can't you, Hugh?" she
+said. "It's a pity you can't, Hugh, because--you could have her for the
+asking."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+UNCLE JOHN'S BIRTHDAY
+
+
+If Timothy Bannan has had scant mention in these pages, it is not
+because he was not an important personage at Fernley. King of the
+stable, governor of the dogs, chief authority on all matters pertaining
+to what Gerald called "four-leggers," he was as much a part of the
+establishment as Frances herself. In person he was a small man, with
+reddish-gray whiskers, an obstinate chin, and a kindly twinkling eye. He
+usually wore a red waistcoat with black sleeves, and he was suspected of
+matrimonial designs on Elizabeth.
+
+One morning, not long after the events of which I have been telling,
+Bannan approached his master, who was tying up roses, Margaret, as
+usual, attending him with shears and ball of twine.
+
+"If you please, sir," said Bannan, touching his hat, "would it be
+convenient for me to take a horse this evening, sir?"
+
+Mr. Montfort straightened himself, and looked with friendly interest at
+his retainer.
+
+"A horse, Bannan? Certainly! What horse do you want?"
+
+Bannan looked embarrassed. "I was thinking of taking Chief, if you was
+anyways willing, sir." Now Chief was the pride of the Fernley stable.
+Mr. Montfort opened his eyes a little.
+
+"Going far, Bannan?"
+
+"N--not so very far, sir. I was wishful to try him with the new cart, if
+you had no objections."
+
+The new cart was a particularly stylish and comfortable wagonette,
+bought for Margaret to take her young friends out in, and Mr. Montfort's
+eyes opened still wider.
+
+"Well, Bannan--of course you will be careful. You want to take some
+friends out, eh?"
+
+This simple question seemed to embarrass Bannan strangely. He reddened,
+and taking off his cap, turned it round and round in his hands. "No,
+sir, I shouldn't presume--that is to say, not exactly friends, sir, and
+yet not anyways the reverse. But if it's not agreeable to you, sir,
+I'll take the old mare and the Concord wagon."
+
+"No, no," said Mr. Montfort, kindly. "Take Chief and the cart by all
+means, Bannan. I wish you a pleasant drive with your--friends." Bannan
+thanked him and withdrew, and Mr. Montfort turned to Margaret with a
+smile and a sigh. "Does that mean Elizabeth and matrimony, Margaret?
+What will Frances say?"
+
+"Indeed, Uncle, I am quite sure that Elizabeth would disapprove as much
+as Frances of Bannan's taking Chief and the wagonette. You are too
+indulgent, dear sir."
+
+"I suppose I am," said Mr. Montfort. "I suppose, also, that I am too old
+to change. But I never knew Bannan to do such a thing before."
+
+Meanwhile, Bannan was standing at the kitchen door, fuming. "If ever I
+do sich a thing again, Frances, you may cut me up and serve me in a
+gravy-boat."
+
+"Nobody'd touch ye!" said Frances. "Ye've got to have juice to make
+gravy, ye little bones-bag. I told ye let me see to it; men-folks
+always messes when they try to manage nice things. It's like as if you
+started to whip cream with a garding hose."
+
+"I don't care!" said Bannan. "'Twas me the telegram come to, and 'twas
+me they expected to see to it. You'd like to boss everything and
+everybody on the place, Frances."
+
+"I'll boss you with this mop, little man, if you give me any sauce,"
+said Frances, with massive calm. "Go away now and feed your beasts; it's
+what you're best at."
+
+"But you'll have the supper ready and all, Frances? If I can feed
+beasts, you can feed their masters, I'm bound to own that," said Bannan,
+presenting this transparent sop with an air of hopeful diffidence.
+
+"Go 'long with ye!" said Frances, loftily, yet with a suggestion of
+softening in her voice. "I've kep' Mr. John's birthday for twenty years,
+but I reckon you'd better tell me how to do it this time."
+
+"And you'll tell nobody about--them--"
+
+But here Frances raised the mop with such a businesslike air that Bannan
+took himself off, grumbling and shaking his head.
+
+Left alone, Frances fell into a frenzy of preparation, and when Margaret
+found her half an hour later, she was beating eggs, stoning raisins, and
+creaming butter, apparently all at the same moment. An ardent
+consultation followed. What flavor would Mr. John (Frances would never
+say Mr. Montfort) like best for the ice-cream? and the cake--would a
+caramel frosting be best, or a boiled frosting with candied fruits
+chopped into it? and for the small cakes, now, and the tartlets?
+
+Mr. Montfort's birthday came, as most birthdays do, once a year.
+Considering this, it was a singular thing that he, the most methodical
+of men, who turned his calendar as regularly as he wound his watch,
+never seemed to remember it. He never failed to be astonished at
+Margaret's morning greeting. More than this, he apparently forgot it as
+soon as it was over, for he always had a fresh stock of astonishment on
+hand for the health-imperilling feast that Frances was sure to arrange
+for the evening. To-day he took no notice of the fact that wherever he
+went he came upon some girl or boy carrying armfuls of flowers and
+ferns, or arranging them in bowls, jars, and vases. When he found his
+desk heaped with a tangle of clematis and wild lilies,--Peggy had
+dropped them there "just for a minute," half an hour before,--this
+excellent man merely said "Charming," and rescued his pet Montaigne from
+the wet sprays which covered it. In the course of the morning, Fernley
+House was transformed into a bower of greenery, lit up with masses of
+splendid color. Everywhere drooped or nodded clusters of ferns, the
+ostrich fern and the great Osmunda Regalis, with here and there masses
+of maiden-hair, most delicate and beautiful of all. In the library,
+especially, the ferns were arranged with all the skill and care that
+Margaret possessed. They outlined the oaken shelves, their delicate
+tracery seeming to lie lovingly against the rich mellow tints of morocco
+and vellum; they waved from tall vases of crystal and porcelain; they
+spread their lace-like fronds in flat bowls and dishes. "I don't see how
+there can be any left," said Peggy; "it seems as if we had all the ferns
+in the world, and yet in the woods it didn't seem to make any
+difference. Oh, Jean, isn't it just splendid!"
+
+"Corking!" said Jean.
+
+"Jean, I won't have you say that."
+
+"Well, the Merryweathers say it all the time, Peggy. They never say
+anything else, except when Margaret is round; you know they don't."
+
+"The Merryweathers are boys, and you are a girl, and there is all the
+difference in the world," said Peggy, loftily. "Jean, it is high time
+you went to school."
+
+"Oh, bother school! I have two ponies to break this fall, and Pa has
+promised to let me drive the reaper around the hundred-acre field."
+
+Peggy said nothing, being a wise as well as an affectionate elder
+sister; but she resolved to consult Hugh, and to write to "Pa" without
+delay.
+
+So the morning passed in preparation and mystery. Then in the afternoon
+came a drive in the great open car, a delightful vehicle, holding eight
+people comfortably. Peggy sat on the box--happy Peggy!--and drove the
+spirited black horses. Uncle John was by her side, and they recalled
+merrily the day when, as John Strong, he took his first drive with her,
+and decided that she was to be trusted with a horse.
+
+"Oh, what fun we did have that summer!" cried Peggy. "Only--we had no
+Uncle John. Oh, Uncle, if we had Rita here, wouldn't it be too
+absolutely perfect for anything?"
+
+"It would be very delightful," said Mr. Montfort. "I would give a good
+deal to see that dark-eyed lassie and her gallant Jack. I think I must
+take you and Margaret to Cuba one of these days, Peggy, to see them. How
+would you like that, Missy?"
+
+"Oh, Uncle John!" cried Peggy; and she almost dropped the whip, in the
+effort to squeeze his arm and turn a corner at the same moment.
+
+But the best of all was when the whole family assembled in the library
+before supper, the girls in their very prettiest dresses, with flowers
+in their hair, the lads brave in white duck waistcoats, with roses and
+ferns in their buttonholes. Then the girls presented the gifts they had
+made for the beloved uncle; Margaret's book, a fine old copy of the
+"Colloquies of Erasmus," bound by her own hands in gold-stamped brown
+leather, Peggy's mermaid-penwiper, with a long tail of sea-green sewing
+silk, and the pincushion on which Jean had spent many painful hours in
+her efforts to make the ferns look like ferns instead of like green hen
+feathers. Grace had woven a basket of sweet rushes, of quaint and
+graceful pattern, which Mr. Montfort declared was what he had dreamed of
+all his life, while Hugh produced a box of wonderful cigars, which had a
+history as mysterious and subtle as their fragrance. Lastly, the
+Merryweathers, declaring that they had no gift but themselves, and that
+if Mr. Montfort would be graciously pleased to accept them, they were
+his, proceeded to go through a series of acrobatic performances, which
+brought cries of admiration from all the beholders.
+
+While this was going on, Margaret took advantage of the interlude
+(though she was loth to lose one of Gerald's graceful postures) to run
+out and see if supper was ready. She came back with a rueful
+countenance, and whispered to Peggy, "Supper will not be ready for ten
+minutes yet, and Frances is in a most frightful temper. She actually
+drove me out of the kitchen; said she would not be bothered with foolish
+children, and she would not send supper in till Bannan came back, if it
+cost her her place."
+
+"Bannan? What has Bannan to do with supper?"
+
+"Bringing something, I suppose; some extra frill she has prepared as a
+surprise. She is always savage when she has a surprise on foot. Hark!
+There are wheels now. Listen! Yes, they are going round to the back
+door. Bannan has come, then, and we may hope for food. Oh, do look at
+those boys! Did you ever see anything like that?"
+
+All eyes were fixed on the twins, who, after every variety of separate
+antic, now proceeded to perform what they called a patent reversible
+waltz. Standing on their hands, they twined their feet together in the
+air, and revolved gracefully, moving in unison, and keeping time to the
+waltz they whistled. The whole company was watching this proceeding with
+such absorbed attention that no one saw the door at the back of the hall
+open silently; no one noticed the figure that stole noiselessly
+through, and now stood motionless in the doorway. A young woman,
+slender, richly dressed, beautiful exceedingly; with a certain foreign
+grace, which struck the eye even more than her beauty. But it was
+neither the grace nor the beauty that was first to be seen now; it was
+the light of love in the large dark eyes, the soft fire of joy and
+tenderness and mirth that shone from them, and seemed to irradiate her
+whole figure as she stood there, erect, yet seeming to sway forward, her
+hand on the door, her eyes bent on the group before her. Her gaze
+wandered for a moment to the guests: the revolving boys, Grace and Hugh
+in their quiet corner together, Jean staring with open eyes and mouth;
+but after a wondering look, it came back and settled again on the
+central group, Mr. Montfort, in his great armchair, Peggy and Margaret
+each on a stool beside him, leaning against his knees. Was the group
+complete? or was there room for another by that good man's side?
+
+Jean was the first to look up and see the newcomer. She started
+violently. "My goodness!" she cried, "who is that?" The next instant a
+cry rang out, as Margaret and Peggy sprang forward, "Rita! Rita!"
+
+But Rita was too quick for them. Before they were well on their feet she
+had them both in her arms, and was weeping, sobbing, laughing, and
+kissing, all in a breath. With the next breath she had sunk at Mr.
+Montfort's feet, and, seizing his hand, pressed it passionately to her
+lips.
+
+"My dear child," cried Uncle John, blushing like a girl, and drawing
+away his hand in great discomposure. "Don't, my love; pray don't. Rita!
+is it possible that this is really you? What does it mean?"
+
+"What does it mean, my uncle? It means that even in Cuba we know the
+days of the month. Dearest and best of men, I wish you a thousand
+returns of the day,--five, ten thousand returns, and each one more
+blissful than the last. Marguerite, my angel, you are more beautiful
+than ever. Angel is no longer the word; you are a seraph! Embrace me
+again! Peggy, you are a mountain; but a veritable mountain of roses and
+cream! Dear little huge creature, I adore you. But where, then, is the
+rest of me? Jack! Figure to yourself a husband who skulks in doorways at
+a moment like this! Come forth, thou!"
+
+Jack Del Monte advanced laughing; behind him in the passage the three
+conspirators, Frances, Elizabeth, and Bannan, peered triumphant. "My
+dear," said Jack, "I was merely waiting for my cue. You would not have
+had me spoil your entrance, you know you would not. Uncle John--I may
+say Uncle John? thanks!--I hope you will forgive Rita's little stratagem
+for the sake of the pleasure it has given her."
+
+"My dear nephew," said Uncle John, "you have brought me the most
+enchanting birthday gift that ever a man had. Let me look at you again,
+Rita! If ever happiness agreed with a person--but I must not begin upon
+compliments now. I want you to know these cousins and friends. Here is
+Hugh Montfort and Jean; here is Grace Wolfe, who is to be your cousin
+one of these good days; and here are our friends Gerald and Philip
+Merryweather. You have all heard of one another; let us all be friends
+at once, without further ceremony, and keep this joyful feast
+together."
+
+"Supper is served, sir," said Elizabeth.
+
+A joyful feast it was indeed. The table, decked with ferns and roses,
+was covered with every good thing that Frances could think of, and she
+could think of a good many. The candles shed their cheerful light on
+all, though the faces hardly needed the artificial light. Amid general
+mirth, Rita told of her plan; her letter of inquiry to Frances and
+Elizabeth, asking if all were well, and if their coming would make any
+inconvenience. Then the telegram to Bannan, and the arrival, to find him
+awaiting them with the best horse the stable afforded; and, finally,
+their stealthy entrance at the back door. All had been triumphantly
+successful, and as Rita told her story, she laughed and clapped her
+hands with the glee of a child, while every face glowed responsive.
+
+[Illustration: "'I PROPOSE . . . THE HEALTH OF THE BEST MAN . . . THAT
+LIVES UPON THIS EARTH TO-DAY; . . . THE HEALTH OF MY UNCLE JOHN!'"]
+
+"And now," said Rita Del Monte, springing to her feet, and lifting high
+her glass, "I wish to propose a toast--the only fitting toast for this
+night. I propose, dear friends, and dear strangers whom I hope to
+have for friends, the health of the best man--ah, Jack, you have not had
+time yet, nor you others; but courage, time is before you!--of the best
+man, I say, that lives upon this earth to-day; the dearest, the
+kindest--oh, all please drink to the health of my Uncle John!"
+
+One and all were upon their feet; all bending forward, glass in hand,
+eager and joyous, their eyes shining with love and admiration; and from
+one and all came the same glad cry, "Uncle John!"
+
+"Because if one hasn't the luck to be really his nephew," said Gerald,
+"the least one can do is to make a bluff at it."
+
+And here, at this happy moment, let us leave our friends. Good-by,
+Margaret--dear Margaret! Good-by, Peggy and Rita, Hugh and Grace, Gerald
+and Phil,--we may see you again, boys,--Jean and Jack! Good-by, and good
+luck to you! Last of all, good-by to you, John Montfort. If you are not
+the best man in the world, you are at least a good one! Wise and strong,
+courteous and kindly, brave and true, long may you live, as now you sit,
+in your own beautiful home, surrounded by those you love best in the
+world. Love, kindness, and truth; having these, what more do you lack?
+Good-by, John Montfort.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
+
+Page 45, "be" changed to "am" (I am to use)
+
+Page 233, "delared" changed to "declared" (which Mr. Montfort declared)
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fernley House, by Laura E. Richards
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fernley House, 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: Fernley House
+
+Author: Laura E. Richards
+
+Illustrator: Etheldred B. Barry
+
+Release Date: May 12, 2008 [EBook #25446]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FERNLEY HOUSE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 266px;">
+<img src="images/cover01.jpg" width="266" height="400" alt="Cover" title="Cover" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p>
+<h1>FERNLEY HOUSE</h1>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><div class='bbox'><div class='bbox2'>
+<h2>BOOKS FOR GIRLS</h2>
+
+<h2>By Laura E. Richards</h2>
+</div><div class='bbox2'>
+
+<div class='center'><b><big><i>The</i> MARGARET SERIES</big></b></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 26px;">
+<img src="images/acorn.png" width="26" height="25" alt="Acorn" title="Acorn" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Margaret Series">
+<tr><td align='left'>Three Margarets</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Margaret Montfort</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Peggy</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6em;">Rita</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 8em;">Fernley House</span></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='bbox2'>
+<div class='center'><b><big><i>The</i> HILDEGARDE SERIES</big></b></div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 26px;">
+<img src="images/acorn.png" width="26" height="25" alt="Acorn" title="Acorn" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Hildegarde Series">
+<tr><td align='left'>Queen Hildegarde</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Hildegarde's Holiday</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 4em;">Hildegarde's Home</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6em;">Hildegarde's Neighbors</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 8em;">Hildegarde's Harvest</span></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+</div><div class='bbox2'>
+<div class='center'>
+DANA ESTES &amp; COMPANY<br />
+Publishers<br />
+Estes Press, Summer St., Boston<br /></div></div></div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span><br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a>
+<img src="images/gs01.png" width="500" height="347" alt="&quot;HUGH AND MARGARET, ALL UNCONSCIOUS OF HER SCRUTINY, WERE ENJOYING THEMSELVES EXTREMELY.&quot;" title="&quot;HUGH AND MARGARET, ALL UNCONSCIOUS OF HER SCRUTINY, WERE ENJOYING THEMSELVES EXTREMELY.&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HUGH AND MARGARET, ALL UNCONSCIOUS OF HER SCRUTINY, WERE ENJOYING THEMSELVES EXTREMELY.&quot;</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h1>FERNLEY HOUSE</h1>
+
+<h3>BY</h3>
+
+<h2>LAURA E. RICHARDS</h2>
+
+<div class='center'>AUTHOR OF "CAPTAIN JANUARY," "MELODY," "QUEEN<br />
+HILDEGARDE," "GEOFFREY STRONG," ETC.<br /><br /><br />
+
+Illustrated by<br />
+ETHELDRED B. BARRY<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 202px;">
+<img src="images/emblem.png" width="202" height="250" alt="Emblem" title="Emblem" />
+</div>
+
+<div class='center'><br /><br /><br /><br />
+BOSTON<br />
+DANA ESTES &amp; COMPANY<br />
+PUBLISHERS<br /></div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class='center'>
+<i><small>Copyright, 1901</small></i><br />
+<span class="smcap"><small>By Dana Estes &amp; Company</small></span><br />
+&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;<br />
+<i><small>All rights reserved</small></i><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<small>FERNLEY HOUSE</small><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<b><small>Colonial Press</small></b><br />
+<small>Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds &amp; Co.</small><br />
+<small>Boston, Mass., U.S.A.</small><br /></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents and Book Spine">
+<tr><td align='left'><img src="images/spine01.jpg" width="110" height="600" alt="Book Spine" title="Book Spine" />
+</td><td align='left'><div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
+<tr><td align='left' colspan='2'><small>CHAPTER</small></td><td align='left'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>I.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Duet</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">Mrs. Peyton's Companion</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>III.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">An Arrival</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>IV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Uncle John's Idea</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>V.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Vision</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>VI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Ali Baba</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>VII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">More Arrivals</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>VIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">History Repeats Itself</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>IX.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">About Nothing in Particular</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>X.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Grace's System</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_128">128</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Mysteries of Fernley</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Egg of Columbus</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In the Twilight</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_168">168</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XIV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Fire</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Jewels: and an Awakening</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XVI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">For Auld Lang Syne</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XVII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In the Garden</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_217">217</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='right'>XVIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Uncle John's Birthday</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="List of Illustrations">
+<tr><td align='left'>&nbsp;</td><td align='left'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Hugh and Margaret, all unconscious of her scrutiny, were enjoying themselves extremely</span>"</td><td align='left'><a href="#frontis"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Margaret did the honors, still feeling very shy</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">At this moment Polly appeared, red-cheeked and breathless</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">She was a slenderer Peggy, with the same blue, honest eyes</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">She looked up, and saw Grace sitting on a broad, low branch</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">On the second landing they paused to salute the old portraits</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">A tall, slender figure half ran, half tottered into the room</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_181">181</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">'I propose .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. the health of the best man .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. that lives upon this earth to-day; .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. the health of my Uncle John!</span>'"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_238">238</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>FERNLEY HOUSE</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h3>A DUET</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Well, Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Uncle John!"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a word to throw at a dog, as Rosalind
+says?"</p>
+
+<p>"You are not a dog, Uncle John. Besides,
+you know all about it without my saying a
+word, so why should I be silly, and spoil your
+comfortable cigar? Dear children! They will
+have a delightful time, I hope; and of course it
+is perfectly right that they should go to their
+father when he wants them; and&mdash;the summer
+will pass quickly."</p>
+
+<p>"Very quickly!" Mr. Montfort assented,
+watching his smoke rings float upward.</p>
+
+<p>"And Peggy is coming; and&mdash;oh, we shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
+be all right, of course we shall; only&mdash;we do
+miss them, don't we, Uncle?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should think we did! A house is a poor
+place without children; and we flatter ourselves
+that our two&mdash;eh, Margaret?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they are the dearest children in the
+world," said Margaret with conviction. "There
+is no possible doubt about that."</p>
+
+<p>She sighed, and took up her work; Mr. Montfort
+blew smoke rings and watched them melt
+into the air. There was an interval of sympathetic
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>The children, Basil and Susan D., Margaret's
+cousins, had hardly been gone two hours, yet the
+time seemed already long to Margaret Montfort.
+Fernley House, which only this morning had
+been so running over with joy and sunlight, and
+happy noise and bustle, seemed suddenly to have
+become a great empty barrack, full of nothing
+but silence. Margaret, after putting away, sadly
+enough, the things that the children had left
+about, had been glad to join her uncle on the
+pleasant back verandah that overlooked the
+garden.</p>
+
+<p>Fernley was in the full glory of early summer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
+The leaves were still young, and too soft to
+rustle in the gently moving air; the laburnums
+and honey-locusts were in blossom, and the
+bees came and went, heavy-laden. The sombre,
+trailing branches of the great Norway spruces
+touched the smooth green turf, starred here and
+there with English daisies. Farther back, the
+tulip-trees towered stately, and the elm branches
+swept the crest of the tall box hedges.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret's eyes kept wandering from her
+work. How could she stitch, when things were
+looking like this? There was the oriole, swinging
+on the bough beside his nest, pouring out
+his song, "Joy! joy! joy!" The eggs might
+be hatched to-day. Basil had begged her to
+promise that she would let neither cat nor
+squirrel meddle with the young birds. What
+should she do, if she saw a cat up there, forty
+feet from the ground? Dear Basil! he never
+could understand why she could not climb trees
+as well as he and Susan D. Dear Basil! dearest
+of boys! how nice he looked in his new blue
+suit; and who would mend the first "barndoor"
+that he tore in jacket or trousers?</p>
+
+<p>And little Susan D.! the warm clasp of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
+her arms seemed still about Margaret's neck,
+in that last strangling hug of parting. She
+had grown so dear, the little silent child! "I
+will be good," she whispered. "Cousin Margaret,
+I will try not to die without you, and I
+will remember the things you told me about
+papa; but don't make me stay very long, because
+I haven't got enough goodness to last very
+long, you know I haven't."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret was roused from her reverie by her
+uncle's voice.</p>
+
+<p>"When did you say Peggy was coming, my
+dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Next week, Uncle John. School closes on
+the eighteenth. Dear little Peggy! think of
+her being a senior! it seems hardly possible.
+She is afraid I shall tell her to put her hair up;
+I certainly shall not, at least while she is
+here. I am sure you prefer the pigtail, don't
+you, Uncle John?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes! oh, yes!" said Mr. Montfort, abstractedly.
+"Pigtail&mdash;yes, by all means. And how
+will you and Peggy amuse yourselves, my dear?
+No Rita this summer to electrify us all. You
+will not find it dull?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Dull, Uncle John? how could Fernley possibly
+be dull? Why, Peggy and I are going to
+be as happy as possible. I have all kinds of
+plans made. You see, it is time Peggy was
+learning something about housekeeping and
+that sort of thing, and I thought this summer
+would be the very best time to show her a little.
+Of course, when she is at home, she wants to be
+doing twenty thousand things on the farm, just
+as she always has done, and the time goes so
+quickly, she has not begun to think yet about
+the indoor things; so I am going to be the
+Humdrum-major, Uncle, and give her some lessons;
+if you approve, that is."</p>
+
+<p>"Highly, my dear, highly. Every woman
+should be able to take care of her own house,
+and the only way for her to learn is to begin
+upon some one else's. I should think Peggy
+might make a vigorous little housekeeper, if
+a chaotic one. Don't let her loose in the
+library, Margaret, that is my only prayer."</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle John, I really do believe that you
+think housekeeping consists entirely in dusting
+and setting things to wrongs, as you call it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my love, I confess that has always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
+seemed to me a prime element in the art. But
+I also confess my ignorance, and the depth and
+darkness thereof. Am I humble enough? Now
+I must go and take the puppies for an airing.
+Till dinner-time, May Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort strolled away, and Margaret
+bent with renewed energy over her work, giving
+herself a little shake as she did so. Her uncle's
+words still sounded in her ears: "You will not
+find it dull?" She had answered out of the
+fulness of her heart, thinking it impossible that
+dulness should come where Uncle John was,
+especially as he happened to be at Fernley
+House, the most enchanting place in the world.
+Yet&mdash;and yet&mdash;it was going to be very, very
+different, of course, from the life of the past
+year, so filled full and running over with delight.
+It was not only that she missed the
+children; it was that in the care of them, the
+watching over the growing bodies and the eager
+minds, she was learning so much herself, feeling
+the world grow, almost hourly, bigger and
+brighter and sweeter. The mother-nature was
+strong in Margaret Montfort, and the children
+were bringing out all that was best and strongest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
+in her. Well, she must do without that
+now for awhile; and there was no doubt that
+the prospect seemed a little flat, even with
+Peggy to brighten it. Dear Peggy! Margaret
+loved her fondly; but she was so grown up
+now, so strong herself, so helpful and self-reliant,
+that there was no question of taking care
+of her any more. "Why, she knows twenty
+times as much as I do," said Margaret, "about
+most things, except history. I don't suppose
+she will ever remember the difference between
+Mary Stuart and Mary Tudor. But, foolish
+creature," cried Margaret to herself, "what
+have you just been saying to Uncle John?
+Here is all the world of housekeeping, about
+which Peggy knows little or nothing, and
+which, thanks to Elizabeth and Frances, you
+do begin to understand a little. Is it a small
+thing, I ask you, to teach the qualities and fine
+shades of damask, and the high-lights of huckaback?
+or the different cuts of meat, and when
+what is in season? I am ashamed of you, Margaret
+Montfort! And then there are the puppies,
+too! Don't let me hear another word of dulness
+from you, miss, do you hear? Perhaps you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
+would like to be weaving cotton in a factory
+this heavenly day, or selling yards of hot stuffs
+in a shop? Go away!" and Margaret shook
+her head severely, and was surprised at herself.</p>
+
+<p>The puppies were two fine young setters, Nip
+and Tuck by name, which the wise uncle had
+bought on purpose to soften the blow of the
+parting with the children. Margaret had never
+known dogs before, and though Messrs. Nip and
+Tuck were being strictly trained, and had to
+spend much of their time in the stable-yard,
+she still had many a pleasant half-hour with
+them, when her uncle took them for a run over
+hill and dale, or gave them a lesson in the garden.
+Her one anxiety was lest they should
+meet the Queen of Sheba, her great Angora cat,
+and there should be trouble; for the Queen was
+a person of decided temper. Margaret had
+taken infinite pains, ever since the arrival of
+the puppies, to keep them out of one another's
+sight; but Mr. Montfort warned her that she
+was merely putting off the inevitable, and that
+the day must come when cat and dogs should
+meet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It seemed a little hard that this meeting must
+take place when the master was not present;
+but the finger of Fate pointed, and at this very
+moment, while Margaret was sitting with her
+peaceful thoughts, Michael, the stable-boy,
+chanced to drop the leash in which he was leading
+the puppies to their master. Three minutes
+later, Nip and Tuck were careering wildly
+around Margaret, leaping on her with frantic
+caresses, and talking both at once, and very
+loud, as dear dogs will sometimes do.</p>
+
+<p>"Down, Nip!" cried Margaret. "Tucky,
+do behave yourself. Now, boys, however did
+you get away? Charge, do, like dear boys, and
+wait for the master; he will be here in a minute."</p>
+
+<p>Nip and Tuck explained breathlessly that
+they had just got out by the luckiest chance in
+the world, that they loved her to distraction,
+and that, upon the whole, they preferred her
+society to that of any one else in the world, if
+only she would let them lick her nose. This
+Margaret firmly refused to do, and they lay
+down panting for a moment, but only for a
+moment. Again the finger of Fate pointed;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
+and so it came to pass that as Mr. Montfort
+came round one corner in search of his run-aways,
+the Queen of Sheba came round the
+other. There seemed but one white flash as
+the two puppies, recognizing their destiny on
+the instant, flew to meet it, yelling like demons
+of the pit.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Uncle John!" cried Margaret, starting
+up in distress. "My poor Queen! my poor
+Sheba! they will&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't worry, Margaret," said Mr.
+Montfort. "Sheba can take care of herself, if
+I am not greatly mistaken."</p>
+
+<p>The great cat stiffened herself into a bristling
+bow, and waited the charge with gleaming
+eyes. The dogs' frenzied rush carried them
+within a foot of her whiskers, and there they
+stopped. This was not what they had looked
+for. They had seen cats before, and had chased
+them, with infinite joy; their mother had
+taught them that cats were made to be chased,
+with a special eye to the healthful amusement
+of good little dogs. But this furry, glaring
+creature, radiating power and menace,&mdash;could
+this be a cat?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Nip and Tuck put their heads on one side
+and considered. The Queen of Sheba advanced
+one step, slowly; the puppies retired, too, and
+sat down, wagging their tails. Perhaps, after
+all, it was a kind of dog; their minds were
+cheerfully open to new impressions, and they
+were full of good will toward all creation.
+Perceiving their innocence, the Queen of Sheba,
+who had seen many generations of puppies,
+lowered her warlike arch, and, sitting down
+opposite them, proceeded to wash herself elaborately.
+Nip and Tuck looked on with open-mouthed
+admiration. Presently Tuck, who was
+a bold dog, gave a short bark of decision, and,
+stepping forward, began with infinite politeness
+to assist in the washing. Sheba received the
+attention with regal condescension. Five minutes
+later, all three walked off together, rubbing
+sides cordially, and presumably in quest of
+rats.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret drew a long breath. "Did you ever
+see anything like that?" she cried. "Look,
+Uncle John; they are talking to one another;
+you can almost hear the words. Isn't it wonderful?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Very pretty," said Mr. Montfort. "Now
+they'll be friends for life, you'll see. Sheba
+will be of great assistance in their education.
+It takes an intelligent cat to understand puppies,
+and Sheba is a remarkably intelligent cat.
+Well, May Margaret, and now shall we take
+our four-legged children for a walk?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Uncle John, I was so afraid you were
+not going to ask me! Will you wait just half
+a minute while I get my hat? and on the way
+back I will stop and see Mrs. Peyton. I have
+not been there since the dogs came or the children
+went, and I ought to be ashamed."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret ran up-stairs lightly, saying to herself
+as she ran, "Dull, with that man? and
+Peggy and the puppies beside? Margaret Montfort,
+I <i>am</i> ashamed of you!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<h3>MRS. PEYTON'S COMPANION</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Dear me!" said Mrs. Peyton. "Here is
+Patience, down off her monument, come all
+this way to smile at Grief! I am Grief, my
+dear; allow me to introduce myself. Well,
+Margaret, and how do you get on without
+your brats&mdash;I beg pardon! I mean your
+pets?"</p>
+
+<p>"As well as could be expected," said Margaret,
+lightly, as she stooped to kiss the ivory
+forehead. Mrs. Peyton was charming, but one
+did not confide one's troubles to her. "We are
+behaving beautifully, Mrs. Peyton. Not only
+have we dried our tears and hung our pocket-handkerchiefs
+out to dry, but we have set up
+some new pets already."</p>
+
+<p>"Not more children? Not another set of 'The
+Orphans of Fernley,' bound in blue denim? That
+would be unendurable."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No; four-legged pets this time. We have
+two dogs, Mrs. Peyton; beautiful Gordon setters.
+I hope you are fond of dogs."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!&mdash;dogs? Yes, I like dogs. As a rule I
+like them better than two-legged torments. You
+are a two-legged torment, Margaret, when you
+move about the room in that exasperatingly light-footed
+manner. I don't suppose you actually do
+it to make me feel my helplessness, but it has
+that effect. Do sit down! you are not a bird.
+And don't, for pity's sake, look patient! If there
+is one thing I cannot abide, it is to see people
+look patient when I insult them. If I had only
+known&mdash;but John Montfort always did like
+to thwart me, it's his nature&mdash;if I had only
+known, I say, that those brats of yours were
+going away, I need not have set up a menagerie
+of my own. It's too late now, the creature's
+coming."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, Mrs. Peyton?" asked
+Margaret, always prepared for any whim of her
+whimsical neighbor. "Are you setting up a
+dog too?"</p>
+
+<p>"No! nothing half so comfortable as a dog.
+A fox, or wolf, or hyena, or something of that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
+kind. Don't be stupid, Margaret; I am not up
+to explanations to-day. A companion, simpleton!
+A Miss Fox or Miss Wolfe, I can't remember
+which. I don't <i>think</i> it was Miss Hyena,
+but it might be. It's an unusual name, but she
+is recommended as an unusual person."</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Peyton! you said you never would try
+it again. And you know I am always ready to
+come and read to you."</p>
+
+<p>"I know you are a little Fra Angelico angel,
+with your halo laid in your top bureau drawer
+among your collars, for fear people should see
+it; but I have a little scrap of conscience about
+me somewhere,&mdash;not much, only about a saltspoonful,&mdash;and
+if you came every day it would
+get up and worry me, and I can't be worried.
+Besides, the doctor ordered it, positively."</p>
+
+<p>"Doctor Flower? has he been out again?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he came on Monday. I thought I was
+going to die, and wanted him to see how prettily
+I should do it. I'll never send for him again;
+he always tells me to get up and do things.
+Tiresome man! I told him I was perfectly exhausted
+by simply listening to him for half an
+hour. He replied by ordering this Miss Fox, or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
+whoever she is. I am to try her for a month;
+I sha'n't probably keep her a week."</p>
+
+<p>"A nurse?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not a trained nurse. She means to be
+one, goes to the hospital in the autumn. He
+thinks she has a gift, or something. I detest
+people with a gift. Probably she has a squint,
+too. You will have to receive her when she
+comes, Margaret, and take the edge off her. I
+fancy her unendurable, but I promised to try;
+I really must be going to die, I am growing so
+amiable. Which of my gems do you want? I
+am going to make my will this time. You
+needn't laugh, Margaret Montfort."</p>
+
+<p>"I was laughing at your dying of amiability,
+Mrs. Peyton!" said Margaret. "When is this
+young lady&mdash;I suppose she is young, if she is
+going to study nursing&mdash;when is she coming?"</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow, I believe; or is it to-day?
+where is the note? Tuesday! Is this Tuesday?
+It cannot be."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, this is Tuesday, and the three o'clock
+train&mdash;I suppose that is the train she will come
+by&mdash;must be in by this time. Hark! there are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
+wheels this moment. Can she be coming now,
+Mrs. Peyton?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, it would be exactly like the conception
+I have formed of her. Go down and
+see her, will you, Margaret? Tell her I have a
+headache, or Asiatic cholera, or anything you
+like. I cannot possibly see her to-day. Her
+name is Fox&mdash;or Wolfe, I can't remember
+which. Bless you, child! you save my life.
+Show her the Calico Room. Hand me the amethyst
+rope before you go; I must compose my
+nerves."</p>
+
+<p>With a smile and a sigh, Margaret ran down-stairs,
+and met the newcomer on the doorstep.
+A tall, pale, grave-looking girl, with deep-set
+blue eyes, and smooth bands of brown hair&mdash;a
+rather remarkable-looking person, Margaret
+thought.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Fox?" she said, hurriedly, holding out
+her hand. "Oh, how do you do? Pray come
+in. Mrs. Peyton asked me to receive you,&mdash;I
+am a friend and neighbor,&mdash;and show you your
+room and make you comfortable. She has a
+bad headache, and does not feel able to welcome
+you herself."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She led the way into the dining-room, and
+rang the bell. "You will have lunch?" she
+said, "or would you rather have tea?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tea, please," said the stranger; and her
+voice had a deep, musical note, that fell pleasantly
+on Margaret's ear.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry Mrs. Peyton is unable to see me.
+Is it a real headache, or doesn't she want
+to?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret colored and hesitated. The blue
+eyes looked straight into hers with a compelling
+gaze; a gleam of comprehension seemed to lurk
+in their depths. Margaret was absolutely truthful,
+and, consequently, was sometimes at a loss
+when speaking of her invalid friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Doctor Flower told me somewhat about
+her," Miss Fox went on. "He thinks&mdash;he
+wants me to rouse her to effort."</p>
+
+<p>She spoke so quietly, her whole air was one
+of such calm and repose, that Margaret looked
+at her wonderingly.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 274px;">
+<img src="images/gs02.png" width="274" height="400" alt="&quot;MARGARET DID THE HONORS, STILL FEELING VERY SHY.&quot;" title="&quot;MARGARET DID THE HONORS, STILL FEELING VERY SHY.&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;MARGARET DID THE HONORS, STILL FEELING VERY SHY.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"If Doctor Flower has explained the case to
+you," she said, at last, "you probably know
+more about it than I do. Mrs. Peyton often
+seems to suffer a great deal. She is fanciful,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
+too, no doubt, at times; I suppose most invalids are."</p>
+
+<p>"I have just been staying with a woman who
+had had both feet cut off by a train," said Miss
+Fox, tranquilly. "She was not fanciful."</p>
+
+<p>It was a relief when the tea came. Margaret
+did the honors, still feeling very shy, she could
+not tell why, before this grave person, who
+could not be more than a year or two older
+than herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you come far to-day, Miss Fox?" she
+asked, for the sake of saying something. The
+stranger put her head on one side, and gave her
+a quaint look. "Any addition to one's personal
+menagerie is always interesting," she said; "but
+one has one's favorites in the Zoo. If it is not
+taking a liberty&mdash;why Fox?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret started, and blushed violently. "I
+<i>beg</i> your pardon," she said. "Mrs. Peyton was
+not sure&mdash;she could not remember&mdash;is it Miss
+Wolfe, then? I hope you will forgive me, Miss
+Wolfe!"</p>
+
+<p>"Please don't," said Miss Wolfe. She smiled
+for the first time, and Margaret thought she
+had never seen so sweet a smile. "It is not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
+your fault that I am philologically quadruped,
+surely. So long as I am not called Zebra, I
+really don't mind. I always associate Zebra
+with Zany, don't you know? they were in my
+Alphabet together. But you were saying something
+which I was rude enough to interrupt."</p>
+
+<p>"I only asked if you had come far."</p>
+
+<p>"Not very far, if you put it in miles; only
+from New York; if you mean by impressions, a
+thousand leagues. It is at least that from that
+maelstrom to this quiet green place. How
+should one have nerves in a place like this?
+To sit here in peace and turn slowly into a
+lettuce&mdash;that would be the natural thing; but
+life is not natural, if you have observed."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret laughed. "Mrs. Peyton is certainly
+not in the least like a lettuce; I don't know
+whether you see any signs of the change in me;
+I have only been here two years, though."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Wolfe surveyed her critically. "N&mdash;no!"
+she said, slowly. "I see nothing indicating
+lettuce&mdash;as yet. You are cool and green&mdash;no
+offence, I hope! I pay you one of the
+highest compliments I know of when I call you
+green; it is the color of rest and harmony;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
+cool and green enough, and pleasantly wavy in
+your lines, but you have too much expression as
+yet, far too much. Placidity&mdash;absence of emotion&mdash;that
+is what superinduces the lettuce
+habit." She waved her hand gracefully, and
+seemed to fall into a reverie. Margaret surveyed
+her in growing wonder.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment Mrs. Peyton's bell rang
+violently; and presently a maid appeared to
+say that her mistress was feeling better, and
+would see the lady now. Miss Wolfe rose and
+glanced significantly at Margaret. "Curiosity
+overcomes distaste!" she said. "Are you
+coming?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Margaret. "I think I'd better
+not. I will slip away quietly. But I shall see
+you soon again. I will run over this evening,
+perhaps; and you must come over to Fernley
+whenever Mrs. Peyton can spare you. It is
+very near, just across the park."</p>
+
+<p>"Fernley!" repeated Miss Wolfe, pausing
+and looking at Margaret with an altered expression.</p>
+
+<p>"Fernley House, Mr. Montfort's place. That
+is where I live. Why&mdash;I have never introduced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
+myself all this time, have I? I am Mr.
+Montfort's niece; my name is Montfort, too,
+Margaret Montfort."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my prophetic soul! my aunt!" exclaimed
+Miss Wolfe. "I beg your pardon;
+nothing of the sort. I am somewhat mad at
+times. Good morning, Miss Montfort; I am
+glad to know you. To be continued in our
+next!"</p>
+
+<p>She nodded, kissed her hand gravely to
+Margaret, and turning, followed the maid up-stairs.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret looked after her for a moment in
+amazement. "What a <i>very</i> extraordinary girl!"
+she said. "She seemed to know my name. I
+wonder how."</p>
+
+<p>She paused, shook her head, then went soberly
+home across the park, wondering how the new
+venture would turn out.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<h3>AN ARRIVAL</h3>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 279px;">
+<img src="images/gs03.png" width="279" height="400" alt="&quot;AT THIS MOMENT POLLY APPEARED RED-CHEEKED AND BREATHLESS.&quot;" title="&quot;AT THIS MOMENT POLLY APPEARED RED-CHEEKED AND BREATHLESS.&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;AT THIS MOMENT POLLY APPEARED RED-CHEEKED AND BREATHLESS.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+<p>"What can the dogs be barking at, Elizabeth?"
+asked Margaret, looking up from the
+table-cloth she was examining. "I'm afraid
+they have got a squirrel again."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I heard the sound of wheels,
+Miss," said the sedate Elizabeth, who had just
+entered, her arms full of shining damask.
+"Just as I was coming up the stairs, Miss
+Margaret. I told Polly run and see who it
+was, and send 'em away if they was a tramp.
+It do be mostly tramps, these days; Frances
+says she'll poison the next one, Miss, but she
+always feeds 'em so as they go off and send all
+their friends."</p>
+
+<p>At this moment Polly appeared, red-cheeked
+and breathless. A gentleman was below, asking
+for Mr. Montfort, and she couldn't find Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
+Montfort nowhere in the house; so then he said
+could he see Miss Margaret?</p>
+
+<p>"Is it any one I know, Polly?" asked Margaret.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, Miss Marget; I niver see
+him. A lame gentleman with a crutch; he
+looks just lovely!" added Polly, with effusion.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Margaret didn't ask you how he looked,
+Polly!" said Elizabeth, severely. "You let
+your tongue run away with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell him I will be down directly, Polly,"
+said Margaret.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Miss Margaret, do you think you'd
+better?" asked Elizabeth. "If it's not a
+tramp&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, and he's no tramp!" broke in Polly,
+indignantly. "He's a gentleman, if ever I see
+one, Miss Margaret; and him in lovely white
+clothes and all, just like young Mr. Pennyfeather
+as was here last year."</p>
+
+<p>"Polly, will you learn to speak when you are
+spoken to, and not interrupt your elders?" demanded
+Elizabeth. "If he's not a tramp, I
+was saying, Miss Margaret, he's likely an agent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
+of some kind, and why should you be annoyed,
+with all the linen to go over? He can call
+again, most likely."</p>
+
+<p>Elizabeth spoke with some feeling under her
+grave and restrained words. The examination
+of the house-linen was to her mind the most
+important event of the week, and already they
+had been disturbed once by a sudden incursion
+of the dogs, bringing a dead squirrel.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Elizabeth," said Margaret, "I must go
+down. Tell the gentleman I will be down directly,
+Polly; show him into the library, please.
+Dear Elizabeth, you can finish the table-cloths
+just as well without me. You always did it
+before I came."</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all, Miss," said Elizabeth, with
+patient resignation; "you'll find me in the
+sewing-room, Miss, whenever you are ready for
+me. It's best that you should go over the
+things yourself, and then you will be satisfied,
+and no mistakes made."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret nodded, with a little inward sigh
+over the rigidity of Elizabeth's ideal of a perfect
+housekeeper; patted her hair hurriedly to make
+sure that it was neat, confirmed the pat by a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
+glance in the mirror, and went quickly down-stairs.</p>
+
+<p>A tall, slender figure rose, leaning on a stick,
+as she entered the library. "What a sad face!"
+was Margaret's first thought; but, when the
+stranger smiled, it changed to "What a beautiful
+one!"</p>
+
+<p>"Cousin Margaret?" said the young man,
+inquiringly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;I am Margaret," said the girl. "But
+who&mdash;oh! are you&mdash;can it be Peggy's Hugh?
+It is, I see. Oh, how do you do, Cousin? I am
+so very, very glad to see you."</p>
+
+<p>They shook hands cordially, scanning each
+other with earnest and friendly eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I should have known you, of course, from
+your picture, if not from Peggy's ardent descriptions,"
+said Hugh Montfort.</p>
+
+<p>"And I ought to have known you, surely,"
+cried Margaret; "only, not knowing you were
+in this part of the country, you see&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle John did not get my letter? It
+ought to have reached him some days ago. I
+was coming on to Cambridge, and wrote as soon
+as I started. No wonder you were surprised,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>
+being hailed as cousin by an unheralded vagabond
+with a stick."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, why do you stand?" cried Margaret.
+"Sit down, Cousin Hugh; to think of its being
+really you; I have wanted to see and know you
+ever since&mdash;oh, for ever so long. Hark! there
+comes Uncle John now. How delighted he
+will be!"</p>
+
+<p>"Margaret, my dear!" called Mr. Montfort
+from the hall. "I have just had a letter&mdash;most
+surprising thing&mdash;from&mdash;hallo! what's
+all this? Hugh, my dear fellow, I'm delighted
+to see you. Got here before your letter, eh?
+How did that happen? Never mind, so long
+as you are here now. Well, well, well! sit
+down here, and let me look at you. This is a
+pleasure indeed. Your father's eyes; I should
+know them in a Chinaman; not that you look
+like a Chinaman. How are they all at home?
+How's your father? When did you leave
+home? Have you had anything to eat? What
+would you like? Margaret, my dear, get Hugh
+something to eat, he's probably starved."</p>
+
+<p>Hugh laughingly disclaimed starvation, and
+begged to wait till their tea-time. "I am not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
+hungry, truly I am not," he said. "There is
+so much to say, too, isn't there, Uncle John?
+Father is very well and hearty. I have a pipe
+for you in my bag. I brought a bag with me;
+do you suppose you could put me up for a few
+days, Uncle?"</p>
+
+<p>Reassured by Mr. Montfort's earnest assurance
+that he should keep him all summer, Hugh
+leaned back in his chair, and looked about him
+with eager eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"This is the library!" he said. "Uncle John,
+ever since I learned to read, one of my dreams
+has been to see this room. Father has always
+told us about it, and where his favorite books
+were, and where you all used to sit when you
+came here to read."</p>
+
+<p>He rose and, crossing the room, took a book
+from a shelf without a moment's hesitation.
+"Here is the 'Morte d'Arthur,'" he said; "you
+see I knew where to find it. And Father used
+to sit on top of that stepladder."</p>
+
+<p>"So he did!" cried Mr. Montfort, delighted.
+"I can see him now, with one leg curled under
+him, eating apples and shouting about Lancelot
+and Tristram."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And you sat in the great copper coal-hod&mdash;ah!
+there it is!&mdash;and read Froissart, the great
+folio with the colored prints. I see it, just in the
+place father described."</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle John," said Margaret, reproachfully,
+"you never told me that you sat in the coal-scuttle.
+I know papa's perch, the mantel-piece,
+because he could get at the little Shakespeares
+from there."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Leave me some remnant of dignity, Meg,"
+he said. "How can you expect me to confess
+that I sat in the coal-scuttle? Have you no reverence
+for gray hairs?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, a very great deal, dear Uncle; but there
+were no gray hairs in the coal-scuttle days; and
+my only regret about you is the not having
+known you when you were a boy."</p>
+
+<p>"Horrid monkey, I have been given to understand,"
+said her uncle, lightly. "Go on, Hugh;
+tell us some more of the things that Jim&mdash;your
+father&mdash;remembers. Old Jim! it's a great
+shame that he never comes to look up the old
+place himself."</p>
+
+<p>"It is indeed, sir!" said Hugh. "I've<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
+always thought so, and now that I see the place&mdash;oh,
+I shall send him, that's all, as soon as
+ever I get home. There are the Indian clubs;
+oh, the carved one&mdash;is it true that that was
+given to Grandfather Montfort by a Fiji chief,
+or was the Pater fooling us? He sometimes
+makes up things, he acknowledges, just for the
+fun of it."</p>
+
+<p>"True enough, I believe!" said Mr. Montfort,
+taking down the great club, covered from end
+to end with strange and delicate carving.</p>
+
+<p>"Did he ever tell you how near he came to
+breaking my head with this club? He may have
+forgotten; I have not. We used to keep it in
+our room, the great nursery up-stairs, Margaret;
+you must show that to Hugh by and by. I
+woke up one night, and was afraid the crow that
+I was taming in the back garden might be
+hungry. I got out of the window and shinned
+down the spout. The crow was all right; but
+when I came back, Jim woke up, and took me
+for a burglar, and went for me with the club,
+thinking it the chance of his life. I was only
+half-way through the bars when he caught me a
+crack&mdash;I can hear my skull rattle with it now."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Uncle John! and you held on?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, I held on; it would have been
+rather unfortunate for me to let go at the
+moment. I sung out, of course; and when I got
+through I fell upon my friend James, and Roger
+had to wake up and come and drag us from
+under the bed before he could separate us.
+Sweet boys! do you and your brothers indulge
+in these little endearments, Hugh? Jim was a
+glorious fighter."</p>
+
+<p>Hugh laughed. "Jim and George used to
+have pretty lively scraps sometimes," he said.
+"It wasn't so much in my line, but I took it out
+in airs, I fancy. The poor fellows couldn't
+punch my head, and it must have been hard
+lines for them sometimes. As for Max and
+Peter, they are twins, you know. I doubt if
+either of them knows exactly which is himself
+and which is the other, so they don't have real
+scraps, just puppy-play, rolling over and over
+and pounding each other."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what good times they would have with
+Basil and Susan D.!" cried Margaret. "What
+a pity they cannot know one another, all these
+dear boys!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"So it is! so it is!" said Mr. Montfort,
+heartily. "We must bring it about, one of
+these days; we must surely bring it about.
+Fond of dogs, Hugh? I've got a pair of nice
+puppies here; like to go and see them before
+tea, or shall Margaret show you your room?"</p>
+
+<p>Hugh elected in favor of the puppies, and
+uncle and nephew walked off together, well
+content. Margaret looked after them, thinking
+what a noble pair they made. Hugh walked
+lame, to be sure, yet not ungracefully, she
+thought; and though slender, still his shoulders
+were square and manly.</p>
+
+<p>Then her thoughts turned to matters of practical
+hospitality, and she sped to the kitchen,
+to tell the good news to Frances.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Frances, Mr. Hugh has come, my Uncle
+Jim's son; Miss Peggy's brother, Frances! He
+has come all the way from Ohio, and I want
+you to give him the very best supper that ever
+was, please!"</p>
+
+<p>Now Frances had that moment discovered
+that her best porcelain saucepan was cracked;
+she therefore answered with some asperity.
+"Indeed, then, Miss Margaret, what is good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
+enough for Mr. Montfort must be good enough
+for his nephew or any other young gentleman.
+My supper is all planned, and I can't be fashed
+with new things at this time of day."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Frances, don't be cross, that's a dear!
+I want you to see Mr. Hugh. Look, there he is
+this minute, crossing the green with Uncle John."</p>
+
+<p>Frances looked; looked again, long and earnestly;
+then straightway she fell into a great
+bustle. "Dear me, Miss Margaret, run away
+now, that's a good young lady. How can I be
+doing, and you all about the kitchen like a ball
+of string? He's lame, the beautiful young
+gentleman; you never told me he was lame. I
+did think as how we might be doing with the
+cold fowl, and French fried potatoes and muffins,
+but that's nothing to show the heart. Run
+away now, Miss, and if you was going up-stairs,
+be so good as send me Polly. She's idling her
+time away, I'll be bound, and not a soul to
+help me with my salad and croquettes. Dear!
+dear! I be pestered out of my life, mostly."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't kill us, Frances!" cried Margaret, as
+she ran away, laughing. "I really think the
+cold fowl will be quite enough."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Frances deigned no reply; and Margaret
+hastened up-stairs, to tell the good news to
+Elizabeth. Elizabeth was in the sewing-room,
+waiting, with plaintive dignity, till Margaret
+should please to go over the rest of the table-cloths;
+but at the tidings of the advent of a
+dear and honored guest, she dropped thimble
+and scissors, and rose hastily, declaring that the
+Blue Room must be cleaned instantly, and put
+in order for Mr. Montfort's nephew.</p>
+
+<p>"But you swept it yesterday, Elizabeth, and
+I dusted all the ornaments myself, and put
+them back in place. It only needs a few fresh
+flowers, I am sure," said Margaret.</p>
+
+<p>Elizabeth turned on her a face of affectionate
+reproach. "Miss Margaret, you don't mean
+that. Mr. Montfort's own nephew, and the
+room not touched to-day! I'll go this minute
+and see to it. But if you would pick out the
+towels you think he would like best, Miss,
+please; gentlemen do be that fussy about
+towels, as there's no pleasing some of them,
+though being Mr. Montfort's nephew, likely he'll
+be different. Give him the finest huckaback,
+and Mr. Montfort is easy satisfied, so long as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
+there's no fringes. He never could abide fringe
+to his towels, and there's no person with sense
+as wouldn't agree with him. And if you
+would see to the bureau-scarf and the flowers,
+Miss Margaret&mdash;there! she's gone, and not a
+word about what table-napkins I <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'be'">am</ins> to use! I
+like to see them young, so I do, but they're
+terrible heedless. I expect I'd best put the
+finest out, for Mr. Montfort's nephew."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<h3>UNCLE JOHN'S IDEA</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Margaret, I have an idea!"</p>
+
+<p>"I am so glad, Uncle John; your ideas are
+always pleasant ones, especially when they
+make your eyes twinkle. Is this about more
+dogs?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, child. Do you think I have no
+soul except for dogs? I was thinking&mdash;why,
+you see,&mdash;this is a delightful fellow, this nephew
+of mine."</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't he, Uncle? I never saw a more interesting
+person, I think. How well he talks, and
+how much he knows!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and right-minded, too; singularly right-minded.
+Jim has done well, certainly, by his
+children, and is very fortunate in them. H'm!
+yes. Who would have thought, thirty years
+ago, that things would have turned out in this
+way? Old Jim!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Here Mr. Montfort fell into a brown study,
+and only roused himself after some time, to ask
+Margaret what were her orders for the day.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Uncle John! And you have never
+told me your idea."</p>
+
+<p>"Bless me! so I haven't. Age, my dear
+child, age! Such a fine idea as it is, too.
+Listen, then! as I was saying, Hugh Montfort
+is a charming fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Uncle John."</p>
+
+<p>"And Peggy Montfort is a charming girl."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly she is. Dear Peggy!"</p>
+
+<p>"We may not unreasonably infer, therefore,
+that other members of the family may be charming
+also. Now, my idea is this. Peggy is not
+going home this summer; why would it not be
+a good plan to send for her nearest sister&mdash;Jean,
+isn't she?&mdash;to come here and meet her
+brother and sister, and all have a good time
+together? What do you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle John! I say that you are the very
+cleverest person in the world, as well as the
+dearest."</p>
+
+<p>"A little house-party, you see," Mr. Montfort
+went on, beaming with pleasure at the delight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
+that shone in Margaret's face. "And&mdash;we
+shall want another lad, it seems to me, possibly
+two lads. Why not ask young Merryweather
+and his brother for a couple of weeks? You
+liked the young fellow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, certainly, Uncle John!" Margaret suddenly
+became interested in tying up the Crimson
+Rambler that was straying over the verandah-rail.
+"Yes, indeed, I thought him very nice."</p>
+
+<p>"And you like the idea? You don't think
+it would make too much work, too much responsibility,
+my dear little niece?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret was still busy with the rose, which
+proved quite refractory, but it was clear that
+she thought nothing of the sort. It would be
+altogether delightful, she said; and as for care&mdash;why,
+she had been longing for something to
+take her mind off missing the children, and&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"And to see Jean, too!" she cried, suddenly
+emerging from the rose-vine, with an unusual
+flush on her delicate cheek, and her gray eyes
+shining; "I have always wanted so to know
+the other Peggypods, as you call them, Uncle
+John; and now to have Hugh here, and Jean
+coming&mdash;oh, Uncle John, you are <i>so</i> dear!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Then that is all right," said Uncle John;
+"and I will go and telegraph to old Jim and
+tell him to send the little girl along. Shall we
+tell Peggy, or leave it for a surprise, eh? What
+do you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"The surprise, by all means; Peggy loves a
+surprise, you know. Oh, how can I wait a
+whole week to see her?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort looked with pleasure at Margaret's
+sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks. He
+had hit on the right thing, evidently. Young
+people wanted young people; didn't he remember
+well enough&mdash;here he fell into a muse
+again, and said "Rose!" to himself two or
+three times. Perhaps he was thinking of the
+Crimson Rambler.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, about rooms!" he said, waking up
+after a few minutes. "And we must get more
+help, Margaret. Frances&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell Elizabeth first, I think," said Margaret,
+thoughtfully. "She has a way of breaking things
+gradually to Frances, and taking the
+edge off them; she is really very clever about
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Elizabeth is a treasure," said Mr. Montfort.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
+"So is Frances, of course, a treasure&mdash;only
+with dragon attachment."</p>
+
+<p>"And as for the room, Uncle John&mdash;let me
+see! Peggy's own room is big enough for her
+and Jean, and I am quite sure they would like
+to be together. Then there are the two little
+east rooms that are very pleasant&mdash;or we
+could give the two Mr. Merryweathers the big
+nursery."</p>
+
+<p>"That's it!" said Mr. Montfort, decidedly.
+"Boys like the nursery; it was made for boys.
+Nothing breakable in it except the crockery,
+and plenty of room for skylarking. Yes, my
+dear, get the nursery ready for them&mdash;if they
+come!" he added. "We are counting our
+chickens in fine style, Margaret. Suppose we
+find that Jean is in San Francisco and the
+Merryweathers in Alaska."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they won't be!" cried Margaret.
+"They wouldn't have the heart to spoil our
+party. I have read about house-parties all my
+life, and to think that I am going to have one!
+Why, it is a fairy tale, Uncle John."</p>
+
+<p>"So it is, my dear; so it is. You are the
+fairy princess, and I am the old magician&mdash;or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
+the bear, if you like better, that used to be a
+prince when he was young."</p>
+
+<p>"The king that used to be a bear would be
+more like it," said Margaret, gaily. "How
+about John Strong, Mr. Montfort?"</p>
+
+<p>"John Strong was a useful fellow!" said her
+uncle, gravely. "I had a regard for John; he
+is getting lazy now, and rheumatic besides, and
+he neglects his roses shamefully, but there are
+still points about John. Bring me my old hat,
+and the pruning-shears, and you shall see him
+in the flesh, Miss Margaret."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret enjoyed nothing more than what
+she called a "rose-potter" with her uncle. He
+was never weary of tending his favorite flowers,
+and handled and spoke of them as if they were
+real persons. Coming now to join him, with
+the great shears, and the faithful old straw hat
+in which, as John Strong the gardener, she had
+first seen the beloved uncle, she found him
+bending over a beautiful "La France" with
+anxious looks.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, this lovely person is not looking
+well to-day. Something is wrong with her."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Uncle, I am sorry. She had her bath<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
+last night, I know, for I gave it to her myself.
+What do you think is the matter? To me, she
+looks as silvery-lovely as usual; but you have a
+special pair of eyes, I know, for roses."</p>
+
+<p>"I fear&mdash;I think&mdash;ah! here he is, the
+beast! Yes, Margaret; a caterpillar, curled
+up&mdash;see him! Right in the heart of this
+exquisite bud. No wonder the whole plant
+has sickened; she is very sensitive, La France.
+There, Madame, he is gone. Now, a little
+shower of quassia, just to freshen you up; eh?
+See, Margaret, how gratefully the beautiful creature
+responds. Now, Jack here,"&mdash;he passed
+on to a Jacqueminot rose, covered with splendid
+crimson blossoms,&mdash;"Jack is thick-skinned,
+quite a rhinoceros by contrast with La France
+or the Bride. Here are&mdash;one&mdash;two&mdash;five&mdash;my
+patience! here are seven aphides on his
+poor leaves, and yet he has not curled up so
+much as the edge of one. Take him for all in
+all, Jack is as good a fellow as I know. Responsive,
+cordial, ready for anything&mdash;not
+expecting to have the whole world waiting on
+him, as some of these people do&mdash;ah, Hugh!
+Finished your letters? That's right!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Hugh Montfort, who had come in unobserved,
+was leaning on his stick, watching them with
+some amusement.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is this Jack, if I may ask, Uncle John?
+He seems to be a rather remarkable sort of
+chap."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort looked slightly confused.
+"Only my fantastic way of speaking of my
+roses," he said. "They seem like real people
+to me, and I am apt to call them by their
+names. A shame, to be sure, to take such
+liberties with the General. Permit me to present
+you in due form! M. le G&eacute;n&eacute;ral Jacqueminot,
+I have the honor to present to you Mr.
+Hugh Montfort, my nephew, and&mdash;may I say
+admirer? The General is sensitive to admiration."</p>
+
+<p>"You may indeed!" said Hugh, bowing
+gravely to the splendid plant. "General, your
+most obedient servant! I have known others
+of your family, some of them, I may say, intimately,
+and I can truly say that I never saw a
+finer specimen of the race."</p>
+
+<p>The General glowed responsive, and Mr. Montfort
+glowed too, with pleasure. "Fond of roses?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
+he said; "that's good! that's good! why, boy,
+you seem to have a great many of my tastes.
+How's that, hey? your father never knew one
+flower from another."</p>
+
+<p>There was a very tender light in Hugh's eyes
+as he returned his uncle's look. "When I was
+a little chap, sir," he said, "my father used to
+tell me a good deal about you and Uncle
+Roger, the two best fellows he ever knew. I
+used to think&mdash;and I think still&mdash;that if
+I could be like them in anything I should do
+well; so I took to flowers because you loved
+them, and to books because they were Uncle
+Roger's delight. The big things seemed pretty
+big, but I thought the little ones would be better
+than nothing."</p>
+
+<p>The glow deepened on John Montfort's cheek,
+and the light in his eyes; in Margaret's eyes
+the quick tears sprang; and with one impulse
+she and her uncle held out their hands. Hugh
+grasped them both, and there was a moment of
+silence that was better than speech. Hugh was
+the first to break it. "I have two new friends!"
+he said, in his sweet, cordial voice. "This day
+is better than I dreamed, and that is saying a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
+good deal. But now, go on with the roses,
+Uncle John, please; there are several kinds
+here that I do not know. What is this cream-colored
+beauty?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, that, Hugh, is my special pride. That
+is a sport of my own raising; Victoria, I call
+her. She took a first prize at the flower
+show last year. We were proud, weren't we,
+Margaret?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed we were, Uncle John. Think, Hugh,
+she had two hundred and seven buds and blossoms
+when we sent her. She looked like a
+snow-drift at sunrise; didn't you, Victoria?"</p>
+
+<p>"Could you send a plant of this size without
+injury? Ah! I see; pot sunk. Well, she is a
+marvel of beauty, certainly. I have some slips
+coming from home for you, Uncle; the box
+ought to be here to-day or to-morrow. There
+are one or two things that I think you may not
+have. But you have a noble collection; what a
+joy a rose-garden is!"</p>
+
+<p>"Mine used to be the greatest pleasure I
+had," said Mr. Montfort, "until I took to cultivating
+another kind of flower, the human variety."
+He pinched Margaret's ear affectionately,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
+and she returned the pinch with a confidential
+pat on his arm.</p>
+
+<p>"For many years," he continued, "I lived
+something of a hermit life, Hugh. There were
+reasons&mdash;no matter now&mdash;at all events I preferred
+solitude, and save for my good aunt,
+your great-aunt Faith, about whom Margaret
+will have a great deal to tell you, I saw practically
+no one from year's end to year's end.
+Very foolish, as I am now aware; criminally
+foolish. I have got beyond all that, thank
+Heaven! During this secluded period, my garden,
+and my roses in particular, were my chief
+resource, next to my books. Indeed, in summer
+time the books had to take the second place, and
+it should be so. You remember Bacon, Hugh:
+'God Almighty first planted a garden; it is the
+purest of human pleasures,' etc. I used to
+know that essay by heart. In summer time, the
+Great Book, sir, the Book of Nature, is opened
+for us, spread open by a divine hand; it were
+thankless as well as stupid to refuse to study it.
+So I studied my garden first, and after that, my
+fields and woods and pastures. Great reading
+in a broken pasture! When I wanted human<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
+companionship&mdash;apart from that sweet and
+gracious influence of her who was my second
+mother&mdash;I found it in my friends between the
+covers, who were always ready to talk or be
+silent, as my mood inclined. I thought I did
+well enough with Shakespeare and Montaigne
+and the rest; I have learned now that one living
+voice, speaking in love and kindness, is
+worth them all for 'human nature's daily
+food.'"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret listened, wondering. Her uncle had
+seldom said so much about his own life even to
+her, his housemate and intimate companion these
+two years; while Hugh, without a word, simply
+from some power of silent sympathy that lay
+in him, had drawn out this frank speech a
+few hours after their first meeting. She wondered;
+and then asked herself, why should she
+wonder, since she herself felt the same drawing
+toward her new-found relative. "This must be
+what it is like to have a brother!" she said to
+herself; and felt her heart quicken with a new
+sense of comfort and happiness. "Such a
+pleasant world!" said Margaret.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<h3>A VISION</h3>
+
+
+<p>Hugh Montfort was having a delightful
+morning. He had been at Fernley three days
+now, and already knew every nook and corner
+on the place. With his uncle's consent he had
+appropriated for his own use the little summer-house,
+covered with clematis and York and Lancaster
+roses, that looked out over the south wall
+of the garden, and away toward the sea. Here he
+had brought his desk (an old one belonging to his
+father, that Margaret had found in the garret),
+and had tacked up a shelf for a few favorite
+books; and here he was sitting, on the fairest
+of June days, with a volume of Greek plays
+open before him, considering the landscape, and
+enjoying himself thoroughly.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh was no less delighted with his uncle
+and cousin than they with him. Always and
+necessarily a student and observer rather than a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
+man of action, he felt an instant sympathy with
+the man and woman of books and thought. He
+loved dearly his own family, active, strenuous
+people, overflowing with strength and energy;
+but he often felt himself out of place among
+them, and reproached himself with the frequent
+languor and headache that so often kept him
+from sharing in their full-throated, whole-hearted
+mirth. He had graduated from a Western
+university, and was now going to study for
+a post-graduate degree at Harvard; he was
+tired, and the quiet at Fernley, the sense of perfect
+congeniality with his uncle, and Margaret's
+serene face and musical, even-toned voice, were
+like balm to his over-strung nerves.</p>
+
+<p>This morning his head ached, and he did not
+feel like study. The book open before him gave
+him a kind of moral support, but he did hardly
+more than glance at it from time to time. His
+eyes roved far and wide over the lovely prospect
+that lay outside, broad stretches of sunny, rolling
+meadows, dotted with clumps of trees, and
+framed in the arched opening of the summer-house.
+This summer-house had been a favorite
+playhouse of his father and uncles in their boyhood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
+He knew a dozen stories about it; and
+now his eyes turned to the lattice walls, carved
+everywhere with the familiar initials, and the
+devices of the four brothers Montfort: John's
+egg and Jim's oyster, Roger's book and Dick's
+ship. What glorious boys they must have been!
+This was where they used to play Curtius, and
+Monte Cristo, and all manner of games; leaping
+over the wall into the meadow below, deep in
+fern and daisies, or swinging themselves down
+by the hanging branches of the old willow that
+peeped round one side of the arch. Glorious
+boys! And then Hugh thought of his own
+brothers, and said "Good old Jim!" under his
+breath.</p>
+
+<p>Thus musing, he was aware of a voice under
+his latticed bower, as of some one in the meadow
+below; a woman's voice, calm and melodious as
+Margaret's own, but with a deeper and graver
+note in it.</p>
+
+<p>"What did he want then, a Lovely Person?
+Did he want her to love him? Well, she did,
+ardently; so that is all right."</p>
+
+<p>A rustling followed, and the voice spoke
+again:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No, he mustn't kiss her; that is not permitted.
+He may lie at her feet, and gaze at her
+with his large, brown eyes, Philip her King, but
+no kissing. She is surprised at his suggesting
+such a thing."</p>
+
+<p>Hugh sat mute, in great perplexity. What
+interview was this, at which he was unwillingly
+assisting? Were two rustic lovers below, taking
+their ease under the old willow, whose twisted
+roots made an admirable seat, as he knew?
+And, if so, should he be guilty of the greater
+offence by keeping still, or by going away?
+He knew every board in the summer-house
+floor, and there was not one that would not
+betray him with a loud creak; on the whole,
+it seemed best to sit still; after all, they need
+never know that any one was there. Hark!
+the young woman&mdash;the voice was certainly
+young&mdash;was speaking again:</p>
+
+<p>"He was perfectly beautiful, that was what
+he was. Yes! he had the loveliest eyes in the
+world, without any exception; and his ears
+were a dream of perfection, and, as for his
+coat and waistcoat, words fail her to describe
+them. Now if he will sit still, she will tell him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
+something; no, not on her dress; a little farther
+off, a precious Poppet!"</p>
+
+<p>A curious sound followed; something between
+a loud sneeze and an equally loud yawn, accompanied
+with lively and prolonged rustling of the
+willow branches; but no articulate word from
+her companion. She seemed satisfied, however,
+for she went on,&mdash;a delightful quality of
+voice; Hugh felt it creeping in his ears like
+music:</p>
+
+<p>"That is right. Yes, she understands perfectly;
+she knows all about it, and she loves
+him to distraction. Well, Lovely One, that
+Lady is a Cat; that is what she is."</p>
+
+<p>Another sneeze and yawn, louder than before.</p>
+
+<p>"Precisely; you think so, too. A cat! 'cat,
+puss, tit, grimalkin, tabby, brindle; whoosh!'
+was he fond of Dickens, a Pink-nosed Pearl?
+She is no more sick than you are, Beloved. She
+has been, no doubt, and now she has forgotten
+how to be anything else, but she is liable to find
+out. Your Aunt, beloved, proposes to put this
+lady through a Course of Sprouts. Tu-whit!
+your Aunt has spoken. We may also remark,
+in this connection only, tu-whoo!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Her companion's only reply to this speech
+was a loud breathing, which might be caused
+by emotion, or by heat and fatigue; at all
+events, he did not seem inclined to speak. A
+thought flashed through Hugh's mind,&mdash;the
+man might be a deaf-mute. What a terrible
+affliction! It was bad enough to be lame; but
+to be deaf, and in company with a girl with a
+voice like that! Hark! she was speaking again,
+slowly and meditatively, rather as if talking to
+herself than to some one else:</p>
+
+<p>"Your Aunt has not got her plan entirely
+laid out yet. She knows what must finally
+happen: the patient must be got out of that
+house, and away on a sea-voyage; but there
+will have to be various occurrences first. Your
+Aunt's ingenuity, Adonis, will be put to a severe
+strain. At present your Aunt is alone, and in
+difficulties. Many oxen come about her, fat
+bulls of Bashan compass her on every side, as
+the Scripture hath it; you are not acquainted
+with the Scripture, Adonis, so there is no earthly
+use in your putting on that look of keen intelligence.
+But there may be balm in Gilead; I
+think Gilead may be in this very place above<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
+our head, my Popolorum Tibby. Now, what is
+the matter with him?"</p>
+
+<p>At this moment a sound was heard,&mdash;a bark,
+distant at first, but coming momently nearer;
+a loud, joyous, inquiring bark. It was answered
+from below by a sound combining bark, sneeze,
+and snort; there was a violent shaking of the
+branches, and, next moment, a brown and white
+setter sprang out from under the wall, and
+stood at gaze. Another instant, and a second
+dog, his exact image, appeared on the brow
+of the slope, careering toward him. There
+was a rapturous duet of barking and sneezing,
+and then the two swept away over the brow,
+and were gone.</p>
+
+<p>"That is the most heartless puppy I ever
+saw," the voice said, slowly. "A woodchuck,
+I suppose. 'Twas ever thus. The moral is,
+don't make love to strange puppies, however
+beautiful; but he was lovely, and he understood
+me. No more of him! The question
+is, what should I find at the top of this beanstalk&mdash;I
+should say, willow-tree? There is an&mdash;answer
+to&mdash;every question&mdash;if&mdash;you only
+ask it&mdash;quick enough!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The last words were spoken so low that Hugh
+did not catch their import. Alarmed, however,
+by the continued rustling of the willow branches,
+he rose hurriedly to his feet, and was about to
+steal away as quietly as might be; but at that
+moment a hand was laid on the coping of the
+wall,&mdash;a brown hand, slender but muscular;
+the next moment an arm followed, and a young
+woman swung herself across the opening, and,
+leaning on the wall, looked full in his face.</p>
+
+<p>It was the vision of an instant only; the
+lithe figure, the face full of careless power, the
+deep-set blue eyes, startling into black as they
+met his, while the slender brows met above
+them in angry amazement; then one hand
+reached back to the willow branch, the girl
+dropped from sight, and he heard her rustle
+from branch to branch, and then heard the
+light, swift sound of running feet through the
+fern, and dying away in the distance.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"Is this a pleasant neighborhood, Margaret?"
+asked Hugh, as they sat on the verandah
+after dinner. "Have you any pleasant&mdash;a&mdash;friends,
+of your own age?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"None of my own age," said Margaret. "Indeed,
+our only near neighbor is Mrs. Peyton, an
+invalid lady, whom I go to see quite often. She
+is very charming, but&mdash;no, there is no one else;
+the places are large and scattered, you see, all
+about here. The next one on the other side
+belongs to Miss Desmond, and she is always
+abroad, and has not been here at all since I
+have."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't think she may have returned
+lately, without your knowing it?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I am sure she cannot; I heard of her
+only a few days ago, in Egypt; Uncle John had
+a letter from her. Why do you ask, Hugh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;idle curiosity; or curiosity, whether
+idle or not. And&mdash;there are no other young
+girls?"</p>
+
+<p>"None; that is why I missed Peggy and Rita
+so terribly, as I was telling you last night.
+Then the dear children came, and they were
+my comfort and joy; I shall have them again
+when the summer is over; happy day it will be
+when they come back. But, you see, having
+first the girls and then the children has rather
+spoiled Uncle John and me, and that is why it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
+was so very particularly nice of you to come,
+Cousin Hugh."</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose we drop the 'cousin,' and be just
+Hugh and Margaret?" suggested her cousin.
+"I am used to having sisters about me, you
+know, and don't know how to get along without
+them; some day it may be 'Sister Margaret.'
+Should you mind?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret colored high with pleasure, and
+again the foolish tears came into her eyes. "I
+have wanted a brother all my life!" she said,
+simply; and again Hugh's smile told her that
+he understood all about it. He was certainly a
+most wonderful person.</p>
+
+<p>They sat in comfortable silence for a few
+minutes; then&mdash;"I did not tell the exact
+truth," said Margaret, "when I said there were
+no young people here. Just now it happens
+there is one, a newcomer, a girl of my own
+age."</p>
+
+<p>She paused. "Yes?" said Hugh, suggestively.
+"Some one you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;and no! I have met her once. She
+is a Miss Wolfe, who has come to be a sort of
+companion to Mrs. Peyton. A singular-looking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
+girl, with a most interesting face. I want to
+see her again; and yet,&mdash;somehow,&mdash;I am
+rather afraid of her."</p>
+
+<p>"Is she formidable, this she-wolf?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not formidable, but&mdash;well, I don't know
+how to describe her. She impresses me as different
+from anybody I have ever seen. Wild is
+not the word; Rita was wild, but it was something
+totally different."</p>
+
+<p>"Peggy is wild, too," said Hugh, "wild as a
+mountain goat, or was, before you took her
+in hand, Margaret. Is this young lady like
+Peggy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, not in the very least. She is not shy,
+not a bit; not shy, and yet not bold. She
+seems simply absolutely without self-consciousness;
+it is as if she said and did exactly what
+she felt like doing, with no thought as to
+whether it was&mdash;well, customary or not. I
+am afraid I am rather conventional, Cousin&mdash;I
+mean Hugh; not in thought, I hope, but&mdash;in
+temperament, perhaps. This girl strikes me
+very strangely; that is the only way I can
+describe her. Yet she attracted me strongly,
+the only time I saw her, which was the very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
+day you came, by the way. I ought to have
+gone over to see her before this. I think I will
+go this evening, while you and Uncle John are
+having your after-supper smoke."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I would," said Hugh Montfort.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<h3>ALI BABA</h3>
+
+
+<p>Margaret went over duly that evening,
+meaning to be very friendly to the strange
+young woman; but it happened to be one of
+Mrs. Peyton's bad times, and she sent down
+word that she needed Miss Wolfe, and could
+not possibly spare her. Margaret left a civil
+message, and went home disappointed, and yet
+the least bit relieved: she had rather dreaded
+a long t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te with her new neighbor.</p>
+
+<p>"How absurd you are, Margaret Montfort,"
+she said, severely, as she walked across the
+park. "Here you have been longing for a girl
+to talk to, and the moment one comes, you
+are seized with what Peggy calls 'the shyies,'
+just because she happens to be cut from a different
+pattern from your own."</p>
+
+<p>Hugh was on the verandah, waiting for her,
+and seemed really disappointed when he heard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
+that she had not seen Miss Wolfe; that showed
+how wide and cordial his interest was, and how
+much thought he took for others, Margaret told
+herself. What could he care about the meeting
+of a cousin he had just begun to know with a
+girl whom he never had seen?</p>
+
+<p>Next day, however, she forgot all about Miss
+Wolfe, for the time being. Gerald and Philip
+Merryweather had accepted Mr. Montfort's invitation
+with amazing alacrity, and Jean had
+telegraphed her rapture of anticipation from
+Ohio. Uncle John and Hugh were left to their
+own devices, while she plunged, with Elizabeth
+and Frances and Polly, into intricacies of hospitable
+preparation. Stores must be ordered,
+linen examined, silver and china looked out.
+In regard to the silver, Margaret had an experience
+that showed her that, even after two
+years, she did not know all the resources of
+Fernley House. Her uncle called her into his
+study after breakfast, and handed her a key of
+curious pattern. "This is the key of the iron
+cupboard, Margaret," he said. Seeing her look
+of surprise, he added, "You surely know about
+the iron cupboard, my dear?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No, Uncle John. I remember hearing
+Aunt Faith speak of something of the kind
+once, but I did not rightly understand, and,
+being shy then,&mdash;it was before I knew our
+Dear so well,&mdash;I did not like to ask."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, there is no mystery, my child. No
+secret staircase this time, no ghosts in velvet
+jackets. But in a house like Fernley, that has
+been inhabited for many generations, there is
+necessarily an accumulation of certain kinds of
+things, above all, silver. We keep out all that
+an ordinary family would be likely to use, and
+the rest is stored in this safe cupboard, in case
+of fire or robbery. Very stupid of me not to
+have told my careful little housekeeper of this
+before. To tell the truth, I forget all about
+this hoard most of the time, and might not
+have thought of it now, if Elizabeth had not
+come to me with an important face and asked
+me if I did not think Miss Margaret ought to
+have the opportunity of putting out The Silver
+if she wished to do so, being as the house was
+to be full of company. That meant that Elizabeth
+herself wanted to display to the astonished
+eyes of Hugh and the Merryweather boys the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
+resources of the house that she and Frances
+rule (on the whole, wisely), through you and
+me, their deputies and servants. I see no
+reason why the good souls should not be gratified
+do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"On the contrary, I see every reason why
+they, and I too, should be gratified. Uncle John,
+I am glad I did not know about it before. It is
+the most delightful thing about Fernley, that
+one never seems to come to the end of it. I
+thought I knew everything by this time, and
+here is another enchanting mystery; for say
+what you will, Uncle John, an iron cupboard
+full of old silver, that nobody knows about,&mdash;or
+hardly anybody,&mdash;<i>is</i> a mystery. Now I am
+sure there are others, too; I shall never feel
+again that I know all about the house. Some
+day, when I am old and gray, I shall come upon
+another secret staircase, or a trap-door, or a
+hidden jewel-casket, or a lost will."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, as to jewel-caskets," said Mr. Montfort,
+smiling, "there is perhaps something that
+might be said; but as you say, it would never
+do to find out everything at once, May Margaret.
+Run away now, and examine your tea-kettles;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
+there are about forty, if I remember
+rightly."</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle John! is there really a jewel-casket?
+What do you mean? There cannot be any more
+than those Aunt Faith had, surely."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't there?" said Mr. Montfort, with a provoking
+smile. "Doubtless you know best, my
+dear." And not another word would he say on
+the subject; but he told Margaret where to find
+the iron cupboard, and she ran off in such a
+flutter that Peggy would hardly have known
+her model and mentor. Old silver was one of
+Margaret's weak points; indeed, she had a
+strong feeling about heirlooms of every kind,
+and treasured carefully every scrap of paper
+even that had any association with past times.</p>
+
+<p>Seeing Hugh in the library, she called to him.
+"Hugh! come with me and see the Treasure
+Chamber of the Montforts. Don't you want to
+see the ancestral silver?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do!" said Hugh, laying down
+his book and coming to join her. "Ancestral
+silver? My mother went to housekeeping with
+six teaspoons and a butter-knife, and thought
+herself rich. Uncle John wanted to send a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
+trunkful of family silver, I have been told, but
+the Pater refused to be bothered with it. Poor
+Mother would have been glad enough of it, I
+fancy, but in those days he was masterful, and
+bent on roughing it, and would not hear of anything
+approaching luxury, or even convenience.
+Where is this wonderful treasury?"</p>
+
+<p>"Come, and you shall see. Uncle John has
+told me how to find it. Come through this
+door; here we are in his own study, you see.
+Now&mdash;let me see! I will light this lamp&mdash;for
+the cupboard is dark&mdash;while you look and find
+Inigo Jones."</p>
+
+<p>"Inigo Jones?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. A tall blue morocco quarto, about the
+middle of the fourth shelf of the bookcase behind
+Uncle John's desk. Ah! I see him!"</p>
+
+<p>Springing forward, Margaret drew the stately
+volume from its place. "Look!" she cried.
+"A keyhole. Hugh, isn't this exactly like the
+'Mysteries of Udolpho?' 'Inigo Jones' is his
+joke, you see, or somebody's joke. Do you
+mind if I turn the key, Hugh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Turn away!" said Hugh, much amused at
+the excitement of his staid little cousin.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>With a trembling hand Margaret turned the
+key, and gave a pull, as she had been told. A
+section of the bookcase, with its load of books,
+swung slowly forward, revealing a dark opening.
+Margaret stepped in, and Hugh followed,
+holding the lamp aloft.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, upon my word!" he said. "I never
+heard of anything like this, out of the 'Arabian
+Nights.'"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret was looking about her, too much
+absorbed for words. The Iron Cupboard was a
+recess some ten feet deep and seven or eight
+wide, lined with shelves. These shelves were
+literally packed with silver, some in boxes,
+much in bags, glimmering in the half-light
+like dwarfish ghosts; but the greater part uncovered,
+glittering in tarnished splendor wherever
+the lamplight fell. Rows upon rows of
+teapots, tall and squat, round and oval, chased,
+hammered, and plain; behind them, coffee-pots
+looking down, in every possible device. There
+were silver pitchers and silver bowls; porringers
+and fruit-dishes, salvers and platters. Such an
+array as might dazzle the eyes of any silversmith
+of moderate ambition.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, Margaret," said Hugh, somewhat impressed,
+but more amused, at sight of all this
+hoarded treasure, "what do you say? I shall
+leave the expression of emotion to you."</p>
+
+<p>But Margaret was in no jesting mood. With
+clasped hands she turned to her cousin. "Oh,
+Hugh," she cried, "isn't it wonderful? to think
+of all those beautiful things living here alone,&mdash;I
+don't mean alone, but all by themselves&mdash;year
+after year, with no one to see them, or
+take them out and polish them. Oh, I never
+saw such things! Look at this perfect pitcher,
+will you? did you ever see anything so graceful?
+This must come in, if nothing else does.
+The milk shall be poured from it from this
+day forward, as long as I am the Mistress of
+Fernley. That is just a play-name, of course,"
+she hastened to explain, blushing as she did so.
+"Uncle John gave it to me in sport, when I
+first began to try to keep house."</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to me a most appropriate name,"
+said Hugh. "There has never been another,
+has there? in this generation, I mean. Uncle
+John was never married, was he?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; isn't it a pity? I have so often wondered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
+why. I asked Aunt Faith once,&mdash;well,
+Hugh, of course she was Mistress of Fernley as
+long as she lived, though she would always
+speak of herself as a visitor,&mdash;and she only
+sighed and shook her head, and said, 'Poor
+John! poor dear lad!' and then changed the
+subject. But&mdash;do you suppose any one can
+hear us here, Hugh?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not, Margaret. I should say that you
+might safely tell me anything, of however fearful
+a nature, in this iron-bound retreat."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it really isn't anything&mdash;or perhaps it
+is not&mdash;but my own fancy. I have built up a
+kind of air-castle of the past, that is all. You
+know Uncle John's passion for roses? Well,
+and sometimes, when he is sitting quietly and
+has forgotten that any one is near, he will say
+to himself, 'Rose! Rose!' softly, just like that,
+and as if it were something he loved to say. I
+have wondered whether he once cared a great
+deal for some one whose name was Rose.&mdash;What
+do you think, Hugh? and she died, and that is
+why he has never married. There! I have
+never spoken of this before, not even to Peggy.
+Don't tell any one, will you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She looked anxiously in her cousin's face, and
+met the grave, sweet look that always made
+her feel safe and quiet; she did not know how
+else to express it.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell any one? No indeed, my dear little
+cousin. It is a young girl's fancy, and a very
+sweet and graceful one."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you don't think it may be true?"
+asked Margaret, disappointed.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly it may be true; I should think it
+highly probable that something of the sort had
+happened, to keep a man like Uncle John single
+all his days; but&mdash;well, I don't see that anything
+can be done about it now, do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hugh, I am afraid you are practical, after
+all!" said Margaret. "And I was hoping you
+would turn out romantic."</p>
+
+<p>Hugh only laughed, and asked her if she had
+chosen all the silver she wanted. This question
+put a stop at once to Margaret's romantic visions.
+Enough? but, she had only just begun,
+she said. Did he think she was going to take
+one pitcher and leave all the rest of these enchanting
+treasures?</p>
+
+<p>"And we have not explored the boxes yet!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
+she cried. "See, they all have dear little ivory
+labels. Do reach me down that fat square box,
+please! 'Col. Montfort's Tankard, 1814.' Oh,
+that was our great-great-grandfather, Hugh!
+Do let us open this!"</p>
+
+<p>The black leathern box, being opened, revealed
+a stately glass-bottomed tankard, with a
+dragon's curling tail for a handle. On the front
+was an inscription, "Presented to Col. Peter
+Montfort, in token of respect and affection, by
+the officers of his mess, July, 1814."</p>
+
+<p>"His portrait is up in the long gallery," said
+Margaret. "Don't you remember, with the high
+ruffled stock? I don't see how he could speak,
+with his chin so very high in the air. Now I
+must have that oval green case; I am sure that
+is something interesting. 'General Washington's
+Gift.' Oh, Hugh!"</p>
+
+<p>This time Hugh was as much interested as she,
+and both bent eagerly over the box as Margaret
+opened it. The case was of faded green
+morocco, lined with crimson satin. Within was
+an oval cup or bowl, of exquisite workmanship;
+it was what is called a loving-cup, and Margaret
+looked in vain for an inscription.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"There must be one!" said Hugh. "<i>Papa
+Patri&aelig;</i> would not have been so unkind as to
+leave such a thing unmarked. Look on the
+bottom, Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret looked, and there, to be sure, was a
+tolerably long inscription, in minute script.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold the light nearer, please; I can hardly
+read this, it is so fine. Oh, listen to this, Hugh!
+'For my worthy Friend and Host, Roger Montfort
+Esquire, and his estimable Lady, in grateful
+Recollection of my agreeable Stay beneath
+their hospitable Roof. From their obliged
+Friend and Servant, G. Washington. 1776.'"</p>
+
+<p>"That <i>is</i> a treasure!" said Hugh, handling
+the bowl with reverent care. "I knew that
+General Washington had spent some days at
+Fernley, but I never heard of this relic of his
+stay. Margaret, this is really extremely interesting.
+Go on, and open more of them. Perhaps
+we shall find tokens of all the Continental Congress.
+I shall look for at least a model of a
+kite in silver, with the compliments of B. Franklin.
+Suppose we try this next. It looks very
+inviting."</p>
+
+<p>He took down an oblong box of curious pattern,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
+and opened it. "What upon earth&mdash;Margaret,
+what are these? Grape-scissors?
+Asparagus-tongs? They don't look like either."</p>
+
+<p>"I should think not!" said Margaret, taking
+the object from his hand. "Why, it is a pair
+of curling-tongs. What queer things! No inscription
+on these; there isn't room for one.
+Here is a piece of paper in the box, though."</p>
+
+<p>She took up a yellowish scrap, and read:
+"'My niece Jemima's curling-tongs, with which
+she, being impatient to make a Show above her
+Sisters, did burn off one Side of her Hair. Preserved
+as a Warning to young Women by me,
+Tabitha Montfort. 1803.' Poor Jemima! She
+was punished enough, without being held up to
+posterity in this way."</p>
+
+<p>"She was an extravagant young lady," said
+Hugh, "with her silver tongs; I think it may
+have been good for her soul, if not her hair, to
+suffer this infliction. Are you going to keep
+these out, Margaret, for use? I do hope you will
+be more careful than Aunt Jemima was. Your
+hair&mdash;excuse me!&mdash;looks as if you had not
+used the irons for some time."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret laughed, and patted the smooth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
+waves of her hair. "It <i>is</i> some time!" she said.
+"Yours, on the other hand, Hugh, has more
+curl than may be altogether natural. I may
+have suspected you of the tongs, but at least I
+have had the charity to keep my suspicions to
+myself."</p>
+
+<p>"You are extremely good, Miss Montfort.
+What have you got hold of now?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Dear Johnny's Rattle!'" said Margaret,
+reading the label on a small box. "I wonder
+if that was Uncle John. See! silver bells; what
+a sweet tone!"</p>
+
+<p>She shook a merry peal from the tiny bells.
+Hugh, who had been rummaging at the other
+end of the cupboard, replied with a clear blast
+blown on a small silver trumpet, which he now
+held up in triumph. "Here we are!" he cried.
+"This is the instrument for me. This was
+presented to Captain Hugh Montfort of the
+navy. What on earth could the gallant commander
+do with this at sea?"</p>
+
+<p>"Whistle for a wind, of course," said Margaret,
+merrily. "What else? Come here and
+look at Grandfather Montfort's gold-bowed
+spectacles; they are big enough for an ox."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>So the talk went on merrily, and box after
+box, bag after bag, was opened, sometimes with
+astonishing results. The bygone Montforts
+seemed to have been fond of silver, and to
+have vied with one another in their ingenious
+applications of it to domestic uses.</p>
+
+<p>Many of the objects had historic or personal
+interest, and the two cousins might have spent
+the day there, if Mr. Montfort had not suddenly
+appeared, asking whether he was to have any
+dinner or not. Margaret had her arms full by
+this time, while Hugh was trying his best to
+carry a splendid fruit-bowl, a salver, two pitchers,
+and three vases, all at once. Mr. Montfort
+burst out laughing at sight of the pair.
+"Cassim and Ali Baba!" he cried. "And I,
+the Robber Captain, with not a single one of all
+the Forty Thieves at my back. Margaret, for
+charity's sake! you are not going to bring all
+that rubbish into the house? Isn't there enough
+already? I'm sorry I told you anything about
+it."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret looked up, guilty but happy, from
+her effort at capturing a fourth vase with her
+little finger, the only one left unencumbered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>
+"Dear Uncle, you never would be so cruel!"
+she said. "See! I have only taken one chocolate-pot,
+and there are five, such beauties!
+Yes, I know we don't drink chocolate, but some
+of our guests might, and you would not have
+me neglect the guests, would you, Uncle
+John?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sooner than have a guest take his chocolate
+from a china pot," said Mr. Montfort, gravely,
+"I would go to the stake. At present, if you
+will pardon a very old joke, my dear Margaret,
+I should prefer to go to the beefsteak, which I
+have reason to think is on the table at this
+moment. Come out, both of you young thieves,
+and let Inigo Jones go in again!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
+</p><h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<h3>MORE ARRIVALS</h3>
+
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 146px;">
+<img src="images/gs04.png" width="146" height="300" alt="&quot;SHE WAS A SLENDERER PEGGY, WITH THE SAME BLUE, HONEST EYES.&quot;" title="&quot;SHE WAS A SLENDERER PEGGY, WITH THE SAME BLUE, HONEST EYES.&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;SHE WAS A SLENDERER PEGGY, WITH THE SAME BLUE, HONEST EYES.&quot;</span>
+</div><p>The great day came, the day of the arrivals.
+Jean was the first to come, by an early train,
+having arrived in New York the night before,
+where Hugh met her and brought her in triumph
+to Fernley. Margaret was at the door to
+receive her, and Peggy's sister had no cause
+to complain of the warmth of her reception.
+She was a slenderer Peggy, with the same blue,
+honest eyes, the same flaxen hair and rosy
+cheeks. Her dress, however, was far more
+tasteful and neat than Peggy's had been on
+her first arrival. Margaret recalled the green
+flannel, all buttoned awry, and looked with approval
+on Jean's pretty gray travelling-dress.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Jean!" she said, kissing her cousin
+warmly. "Most welcome to Fernley, dear
+child! Oh, I am so glad to see you! I have
+been counting the days, Jean."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, so have I!" said Jean, looking up with
+a shy, sweet smile,&mdash;Peggy's very own smile.
+Margaret kissed her again for it. "The last
+day did seem awfully long, Cousin Margaret&mdash;well,
+Margaret, then! I'm sure I never call
+you anything but Peggy's Margaret when I
+think of you. Peggy hasn't come yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet. She will be here this afternoon,
+on the three o'clock train. She knows nothing
+about your coming, Jean. In her very last
+letter, she was talking about being glad to
+come here, and so on, and she said the only
+thing wanting would be you."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, goody! I'm awfully glad&mdash;that she
+doesn't know, I mean. It will be just lovely
+to surprise her. Dear old Peg!" Jean relapsed
+into bashful silence when Margaret took her
+into the library to greet her uncle; but Mr.
+Montfort's smile and cordial greeting soon put
+her at her ease.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't he just lovely?" she whispered to
+Margaret, as they went up-stairs. "I was
+afraid he would be awful, somehow, but he
+isn't a bit; he's just lovely."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret assented, making a mental note<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
+of the fact that this child seemed to have but
+two adjectives in her vocabulary. "Peggy will
+see to that!" she said to herself. "Peggy has
+improved so wonderfully in her English this
+last year. She will be quicker than I to notice
+and take up the little mistakes."</p>
+
+<p>This was not strictly true, though modest
+Margaret meant it so. Peggy certainly had
+learned much at school, but her teachers had
+no expectation of her becoming an eminent
+English scholar.</p>
+
+<p>"I have put you with Peggy," said Margaret,
+leading the way into the pretty room, hung
+with red-poppy chintz, where Peggy had spent
+a few sad and many happy hours. "I thought
+you would rather be together."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, indeed! You are awfully kind,
+Cous&mdash;Margaret. I haven't seen Peggy for
+a year, you know. We missed her awfully at
+Christmas, of course, but she had a lovely time
+here; and it would have been awful if she
+had come home and got the measles, wouldn't
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we did have a very good time. The
+children were here,&mdash;Basil and Susan D.,&mdash;and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
+they and Peggy were fast friends. Oh, yes, it
+was a great holiday. Now, dear, you will want
+to rest a little, so I will leave you. Peggy will
+not be here till after lunch, so you will have
+time for a good rest, and to explore the garden,
+too, if you like. I am going now to arrange
+my flowers."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, might I help? I am not a bit tired, and
+I just love to arrange flowers. Do let me help,
+Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," said Margaret, with a little
+inward sigh. She had her own ideas, and very
+definite ones, about the arrangement of flowers,
+in which she had exquisite taste; and her recollection
+of the way in which Peggy used to
+squeeze handfuls of blossoms tight into a vase,
+without regard to color or form, made her dread
+the assistance so heartily proffered; but Jean
+was quicker than Peggy had been at her age,
+and one glance at Margaret's first "effect," a
+rainbow combination of sweet-peas, showering
+over the side of a crystal bowl, filled her with
+ambition to emulate its beauty. The morning
+passed happily and busily, the more so that
+Hugh came in presently, with a chapter of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
+Thoreau that Margaret "really must hear!"
+He read well, and his taste and Margaret's
+being much alike, they spent many pleasant
+hours together, he reading aloud, she with her
+flowers or her work. Jean, who had never
+heard of Thoreau, and was not bookish, tried
+to listen, but did not make much of it. She
+fell to meditating instead, and her bright eyes
+wandered curiously from one intent face to the
+other. Hugh never thought of reading aloud
+at home. To be sure, he was the only one who
+cared about reading, or had time for it. He
+and Margaret seemed to know each other very
+well, seeing what a short time he had been here.
+Jean, with all the eager romance of fifteen,
+straightway began the building of an air-castle,
+which seemed to her a fine structure indeed.
+Meantime, Hugh and Margaret, all unconscious
+of her scrutiny, were enjoying themselves extremely.</p>
+
+<p>"'As polishing expresses the vein in marble
+and grain in wood, so music brings out what of
+heroic lurks anywhere.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. When we are in
+health, all sounds fife and drum to us; we hear
+notes of music in the air, or catch its echoes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
+dying away when we awake in the dawn.
+Marching is when the pulse of the hero beats
+in unison with the pulse of Nature, and he steps
+to the measure of the universe; then there is
+true courage and invincible strength.'"</p>
+
+<p>"How beautiful that is!" said Margaret.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; that is the particular passage I wanted
+to read to you. Have you ever had that feeling,
+fancying that you wake to the sound of music?
+I often have, when I have been sleeping out in
+the open&mdash;never within doors."</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Margaret, "I don't think I ever
+have, Hugh; but what a pleasant thing it must
+be! I have never slept in the open, but even if
+I should, I fear my waking would be plain prose,
+like myself."</p>
+
+<p>Hugh laughed, and glanced at her affectionately.
+"I haven't found much prose about you,
+Margaret," he said. "If I had, I should not
+have read you my secrets when Thoreau tells
+them for me. That reminds me, do you sing?
+I have not heard you, have I?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; I wish I did, for I love music very
+much. Oh, I sing a very little, enough to
+join in a chorus&mdash;if there ever were a chorus<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
+at Fernley. I used to enjoy Rita's singing intensely;
+she has a very sweet voice."</p>
+
+<p>"Some one was singing last night," Hugh
+went on; "I don't know why, but this passage
+reminds me&mdash;I heard a woman's voice singing,&mdash;a
+remarkable voice."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed? Where were you? Not in your
+room? I am sure there is no one in the house
+who sings."</p>
+
+<p>"No; it was pretty warm, and the moon&mdash;well,
+you remember, it was all you could do to
+go to bed yourself, Margaret. After Virtue, in
+the shape of yourself and Uncle John, had gone
+to bed, Vice, in my shape, wandered about the
+garden, I don't know how long. It was wonderful
+there, with the trees, and the smell of
+the roses and box, and&mdash;and the whole thing,
+you know. Down at the foot of the garden,
+over in the meadow below, some one was singing;
+some one with a remarkable voice; rather
+deep-toned, not loud, and yet full, with an extraordinary
+degree of melody; or, so it seemed
+at a distance. I wondered who it was, that
+was all. You have no idea, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"No! I wonder too, very much. No one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
+from this house, I am sure of that. Now that
+I think of it, though, Polly sings&mdash;Polly, the
+under housemaid; she has a pretty little bird-like
+voice, but nothing such as you describe.
+I'll make inquiries, though&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, pray don't!" said Hugh, hastily, "I'd
+rather not! I&mdash;I mean, of course, it is not
+of the smallest consequence, Margaret. It is
+pleasant to hear singing at night, but perhaps
+all the pleasanter when the singer is unseen
+and unknown. Now let us go on with our
+Thoreau."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"Margaret! Margaret! Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>It was all Peggy could say at first. All the
+way up the avenue her heart had been beating
+high; at sight of the brown chimney-stacks of
+Fernley, it seemed to give a great jump up in
+her throat; and when the carriage swept round
+the curve, and she saw the whole front of the
+great house, and Margaret, her own Margaret,
+standing on the steps, with arms outstretched
+to welcome her, there was nothing for it but to
+cry out, with the full power of her healthy
+lungs. Almost before Bannan could stop the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
+horses, she had scrambled out, and was on her
+cousin's neck, strangling her with hugs, and
+smothering her with kisses at the same instant.
+"Margaret! Margaret! I am really here! Do
+you know that I am really here?"</p>
+
+<p>Speech was impossible for Margaret, but a
+voice from behind broke in:</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come! what is all this? My niece
+done to death on my own doorstep? Let go,
+Peggy, and come and kill me instead. I am
+older, and shall be less missed."</p>
+
+<p>Peggy loosed her hold, somewhat abashed,
+but received an embrace from her uncle so
+warm that she brightened again instantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Uncle John, how do you do? It was
+only that I was so glad to see my darling Margaret.
+Did I hurt you, dearest? I have pulled
+all your lovely hair down; Margaret, I am more
+clumsy than ever, I do believe."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Peggy! as if I cared whether you are
+clumsy or not! though it is convenient to have
+the use of my windpipe, I confess. Well, and
+here you are, indeed. Why, Peggy!"</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Margaret?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Why, Peggy!</i>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear! what is the matter? Is my hat
+wrong side before? I know my necktie is
+crooked, but I couldn't help that, truly I
+couldn't, Margaret; the strap is broken, and
+it will work round under my ear. I'll mend
+it&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I wasn't looking at your necktie, child.
+Peggy, you are taller than I am! How dare
+you, miss?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Margaret! I really thought I had
+done something&mdash;why, yes, so I am taller; but
+only just the least little bit, Margaret."</p>
+
+<p>"And your shoulders&mdash;why, Peggy, you are
+a great big creature! How can any one grow
+so in six months? We shall have to call you
+Brynhild."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" asked Peggy, simply. "I
+haven't grown enough to understand outlandish
+words, Margaret, so you need not try them
+on me. Oh,"&mdash;she looked around her with
+delighted eyes,&mdash;"how beautiful everything
+looks, Uncle John. Why, the yellow birch has
+grown as much as I have; it is quite a fat
+tree. And&mdash;you have put out more chestnuts,
+haven't you? And&mdash;oh, Uncle John, I haven't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
+told you my great news! The most wonderful
+news! I wouldn't write about it, because
+I wanted to surprise you. Hugh, our Hugh,
+is coming East. He is&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"What is he?" said another voice, and
+Hugh came forward laughing, and took his
+sister in his arms. "Well, little girl,&mdash;big,
+enormous, colossal little girl, how are you?
+Shut your eyes, Peg of Limavaddy, or they will
+drop out, and then what should we do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hugh! what does it mean? When&mdash;how
+did you get here? You weren't to start till
+next week."</p>
+
+<p>"So I wasn't," said Hugh, composedly. "But
+you see I did. If you are not glad to see me,
+Margaret will let me stay in the back kitchen,
+I am sure, till you go away."</p>
+
+<p>Peggy's only reply was a hug as powerful as
+the one she had given Margaret; it set her
+brother coughing and laughing till the tears
+came to his eye. "My dear sister," he said,
+"have you been studying grips with a grizzly
+bear? I felt one rib go, if not two."</p>
+
+<p>"Not really, Hugh? I didn't really hurt
+you?" cried Peggy, anxiously.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No, no! not really. See now, Margaret
+wants you. Run along, Samsonina."</p>
+
+<p>Peggy ran into the house, casting delighted
+glances all about her.</p>
+
+<p>"How beautiful the hall looks! Oh, Margaret,
+what flowers! why, it is a perfect flower
+show! Did you do them all yourself? for
+me? Oh, you darling!" and again Margaret's
+breath was extinguished by a powerful embrace.
+"And, oh, the surprise of seeing Hugh!
+You know I love a surprise. You planned
+it for me, didn't you, darling Margaret? You
+are the most angelic&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Peggy! Peggy! Peggy! no extravagance!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Margaret, I won't. Only how can I
+help it, when I am so happy, and you are
+so&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But here Margaret fairly laid her hand over
+Peggy's mouth. "I did not plan Hugh's coming,"
+she said. "I was as much surprised, and
+as pleasantly, as you, Peggy. He came earlier
+than he had expected, on account of some business
+for Uncle James. Only, we all agreed
+that we would not tell you, because we knew
+your fondness for surprises. Do you think you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>
+could bear another, Peggy, or is this enough
+for to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, Margaret? There
+can't be anything more. Nothing could count
+after the joy of seeing Hugh. Oh, Margaret,
+isn't he dear? Don't you love him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I do!" said Margaret, heartily.
+"You never said half enough about him, Peggy.
+Oh, we are such friends, Uncle John and Hugh
+and I. But is there no other thing you can
+think of that you would like, Peggy, dear? No
+one else you would like very, very much to
+see?"</p>
+
+<p>They were now at the door of Peggy's room,
+and Margaret's hand was on the door. Peggy
+turned and looked at her in wonder. "What
+do you mean, Margaret? Why do you look
+like that?" At this moment a sound was
+heard on the other side of the door, something
+between a cry, a sniffle, and a sob.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is in there?" cried Peggy, her eyes
+opening to their fullest and roundest extent.</p>
+
+<p>"Go in and see," said Margaret, and she
+opened the door and pushed Peggy gently in,
+and shut it again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She heard a great cry. "Jean! my Jean!"
+"Oh, Peggy! Peggy!" then kissing and hugging;
+and then sounds which made her open
+the door and come quickly into the room.
+Peggy and Jean were seated on the floor, side
+by side, their heads on each other's shoulder,
+crying as if their hearts would break.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>
+</p><h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Well, Jean!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Peggy!"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think of them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I think they are just lovely. I like the
+tall one best, don't you? Though the red-haired
+one is awfully nice, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Goose! I didn't mean them. I meant
+Uncle John and Margaret. Aren't they dear?
+Did I say half enough about them, Jean?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not half. Margaret is just too lovely
+for anything, and Uncle John&mdash;well, of course,
+I am awfully afraid of him, but he is just lovely,
+too."</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, young one!" said Peggy the
+Venerable, gravely. "Can't you say anything
+except 'awful' and 'lovely?' I would enlarge
+my vocabulary, if I were you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Jean opened her eyes to their roundest.
+"Vocabulary! What's that? Don't tell me
+that you are going to set up for a school-teacher,
+Peggy. Why, you used to say 'awful'
+yourself, all the time."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, Jean, not quite all the time."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, awfully often, anyhow. I know you
+did."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Jean, I know I did. But first Margaret
+told me about it, and then I began to notice for
+myself. I've been taking Special English this
+year, and I find I notice more and more. It's
+really a pity, as Margaret says, to have only two
+or three words and work them to death, when
+there are so many good ones that we never
+use at all. Grace used to call it 'Cruelty to
+Syllables.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what shall I say? I don't know
+anything else."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you do; don't be absurd, child. Margaret
+made me a list of adjectives and adverbs
+once, I remember, the first time I was here; I
+was just your age then, Jean, and I have no
+doubt I <i>did</i> say 'awfully' most of the time;
+anyhow, I did it enough to trouble Margaret<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>
+aw&mdash;very much indeed. Let me see: there is
+'very,' of course; 'remarkably, extremely, uncommonly,
+exceedingly, and excessively;' then
+for adjectives, 'charming, delightful, pretty,
+exquisite, pleasant, agreeable, entertaining,'&mdash;well,
+there were a great many more, but that is
+all I can think of now; all these will do instead
+of 'awful' and 'lovely,' Jean."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Peggy, dear, you are a regular school-ma'am.
+Please don't let us talk about all these
+horrid things, the first night I am here. I am
+perfectly dying to know what you think about
+the two Mr. Merryweathers, and about Hugh
+and Margaret."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I think the Merryweathers seem very
+nice boys indeed. I like the funny one best, I
+think; Gerald, is his name? But the other
+one is nice, too. He has such kind eyes, and
+such a pleasant voice. Somehow he looks more
+like Gertrude than Gerald does, even though
+Gerald has her hair. Oh, Jean, I wish you could
+see my Snowy Owl! She is so dear, and beautiful,
+and strong; next to you and Margaret,
+she is the very dearest girl in the world, except
+one."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"May I come in?" said Margaret's voice at
+the door. She was greeted by a duet of "Come
+in, do!" and entering, found her two cousins
+seated on the floor, hair-brush in hand, brushing
+out their long fair hair.</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"'Maud and Madge in their robes of white,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The prettiest nightgowns under the sun!'"</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='unindent'>quoted Margaret. "How comfortable you look,
+girls! May I do my hair here, too? I knew
+you would be sitting up, chattering. Who is
+the very dearest girl in the world except one,
+Peggy? And who is the one? I heard the
+end of your sentence before I knocked."</div>
+
+<p>"Yes, but you didn't hear the beginning,"
+said Peggy, "or you would know that you two
+here are the <i>very</i> dearest, and that the others
+only come after you. I was speaking of Gertrude
+Merryweather; oh! how you and she will
+love each other, Margaret! I don't see how I
+can wait to have you know each other. And
+by the 'except one,' I meant Grace Wolfe, our
+Horny Owl, and our Goat, and a good many
+other things."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Where is she now?" asked Margaret.
+"Have you heard from her lately?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Peggy, sadly. "None of us
+have heard at school. She wrote Miss Russell
+some time ago that she was going to try a new
+departure, and expected either to go mad or
+make her fortune; but she didn't say what it
+was. She never writes many letters, you know.
+We have all written again and again, but it
+makes no difference. Hark! what is that
+noise?"</p>
+
+<p>"What noise? I heard nothing," said
+Margaret.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I heard some one speak, outside
+the window."</p>
+
+<p>They listened for a moment, but all was
+quiet.</p>
+
+<p>"It may have been Uncle John and Hugh in
+the garden," said Margaret. "It is early yet,
+you know, not ten o'clock; they often walk
+about for an hour and more after we come up.
+Speaking of Grace Wolfe, Peggy,&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Tu-whit!" said a voice. "In this connection
+only, I may be permitted to remark, tu-whoo!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"<i>Grace!</i>" cried Peggy, in such a voice that
+the other girls sprang to their feet. Peggy was
+at the window before them, snatching back the
+curtain. The night was warm, and the upper
+sash had been lowered completely. Leaning
+over the sash was a slender figure shimmering
+white in the moonlight. "Any admittance for
+the Goat?" said a deep, melodious voice.
+"Peace, Innocent!" for Peggy was trying to
+drag her in over the sash by main force.</p>
+
+<p>"I address the mistress of the dwelling. Is
+there admittance for a miscellaneous quadruped,
+Margaret Montfort?"</p>
+
+<p>But now Margaret had her other hand, and
+laughing and crying, the girls had her in, and
+again Peggy displayed the powerful development
+of her muscles in a strangling embrace,
+from which Grace emerged panting, but unruffled.
+Giving Peggy a sedate kiss, she turned
+to Margaret, who still held her hand, gazing in
+wonder and bewilderment; for this was Mrs.
+Peyton's companion.</p>
+
+<p>"You pardon the informality?" she said;
+and her smile was like light in the room. "I
+could not come to call on Peggy, or on Peggy's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>
+Margaret, with my bonnet on. And it is a
+<i>great</i> wall to climb!" she added, wistfully.
+"I don't know when I have enjoyed myself so;
+there is little climbing in these sad days. Now
+you see why I did not want to be Miss Fox."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my dear!" cried Margaret. "How
+could you keep me in the dark? How stupid&mdash;how
+utterly stupid of me, not to know you!
+And yet, how could I have guessed that Mrs.
+Peyton's companion was Peggy's own beloved
+Grace? You must be my Grace, too, please;
+I will have neither wolves nor foxes, but only
+Grace, or the Horned Owl."</p>
+
+<p>She kissed Grace, who returned the kiss
+warmly. But now Peggy, who had been silent
+for a moment in sheer amazement, broke in:</p>
+
+<p>"What does this all mean?" she cried.
+"Have you dropped from the moon, Grace
+Wolfe, or where do you come from? You and
+Margaret have met before? Where, and how,
+and when? I must know all about it, this very
+instant."</p>
+
+<p>The situation was soon explained. Jean, who
+had hung back, shy and frightened, was brought
+forward and introduced; and soon all four girls<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>
+were seated comfortably on the floor, talking as
+if nothing astonishing had happened. Only
+every few minutes Peggy would put her hand
+out and touch Grace's shoulder, as if to make
+sure that she was genuine flesh and blood, and
+not some phantom conjured up out of the moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>"I have tried twice to see you," Margaret
+said. "Both times I seemed to have come just
+at the wrong moment. Do tell me how you are
+getting on, Grace! How has Mrs. Peyton been
+since you have been there? It is very seldom
+that I am so many days without seeing her."</p>
+
+<p>"Singular lady!" said Grace. "Beautiful,
+but singular. She thinks me mad, so matters
+are equal. Why, we get on&mdash;somewhere! I
+am not sure where. At present, I am in disgrace.
+She did not like her chocolate this
+morning, and being in a pet, bade me throw it
+out of window; I obeyed. It appears the cup
+was valuable, which was a pity, as its bones are
+scattered far and wide."</p>
+
+<p>"You threw the cup, too? Grace!"</p>
+
+<p>"Naturally I threw the cup. I am going on
+the principle of doing exactly what she tells me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
+to do; thus she may discover the unreason of
+her conduct. Tu-whit! Yesterday she was displeased
+with an embroidered muslin jacket, and
+said she never wanted to see it again. I tore it
+up; she was displeased. To-night she took a
+dislike to my dress, and told me not to come
+near her till morning. Behold me here; I think
+it probable that at this moment she is raising the
+house for me and desiring greatly to be rubbed.
+These things are instructive to her. I have
+put her to sleep every night by rubbing, and
+now she will not sleep. Poor lady; so sad for
+her!"</p>
+
+<p>All this was said quietly, pensively, with an
+air of mild consideration. Margaret looked at
+her, wondering. No one had ever crossed Mrs.
+Peyton before. One "companion" after another
+had been engaged, been tyrannized over
+for a few weeks, and then dismissed. What
+would be the effect of this opposite treatment?
+Timid herself, she had always met the vagaries
+of her beautiful friend with, at most, a gentle
+protest. If matters were too bad, she stayed
+away for a week, and was sure to find the lady
+in her most winning mood at the end of that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>
+time; but she had never attempted any more
+severe measure than this.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think&mdash;do you feel as if you were
+getting hold of her at all, Grace?" she asked.
+"She is really very fascinating, when she wants
+to be."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not fascinated!" said Grace; and for
+a moment the half-whimsical, half-reckless look,
+which was her usual expression, gave way to one
+that was stern enough. "Mrs. Peyton appears
+to me to be a wholly selfish person; a thing
+rarely met with in such entirety. I have promised
+my Good Physician that I will try to rouse
+her, and see if there is any scrap of woman left
+inside this pretty shell; I am going to do my
+best. I think it doubtful if there is, but I am
+going to do my best."</p>
+
+<p>Peggy gazed at her with adoring eyes
+and felt absolute assurance that Mrs. Peyton
+would shortly be converted into an angel.
+Did not Grace always do what she undertook
+to do?</p>
+
+<p>With one of her sudden movements, Grace
+turned to her, and put her hands on her shoulders.
+"Behold my Innocent happy!" she said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
+"What of the other Owls, Babe? Do they hoot
+happily, and flap friskily?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Grace, they want to hear from you so
+much! The Snowy is really anxious. She is
+afraid you are sick, or&mdash;or something. Do
+write to her, dear; won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Snowy," said Grace, "is one of the few
+wholly satisfactory persons in the world. I have
+an immense respect for the Snowy, as well as a
+strong affection. If I could write to anybody, I
+think it would be to her. It may even be done,
+Innocent. Who knows?"</p>
+
+<p>"She was afraid&mdash;" Peggy hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"She was afraid," said Grace, coolly, "that I
+was going on the variety stage. Yes; but you
+see, I did not. But I admit there are grounds&mdash;yes,
+I will write, Innocent. And now I must
+go," she added, rising. "I may come again, Margaret?
+Tie a white ribbon on the window-tassel
+when you do not want me. Good night!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but, my dear, you are not going out in
+that way!" cried Margaret, in distress. "Why
+not go down-stairs and out of the door, like a
+Christian?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing distinctively unchristian, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>
+hold, in going by way of the window," replied
+Grace, her hand already on the sash. "Consider,
+I pray you, the rapture of the one method, the
+futile stupidity of the other. Enough! I am
+gone."</p>
+
+<p>She slipped lightly over the sill and was gone,
+leaving the others staring at each other. Peggy
+ran to the window and looked after her. "She
+is all right, Margaret!" she cried; for Margaret
+was visibly distressed and alarmed. "The woodbine
+is very thick and strong, and there is the
+spout, too. There! She is down now, all safe.
+Good night! oh, good night, dear Goat!"</p>
+
+<p>About this time, Hugh Montfort, having said
+good night to his uncle and the two Merryweathers,
+sauntered down the garden walk, for
+one more turn, one more look at the night. It
+was a wonderful night. The moon was full,
+and Fernley lay bathed in a flood of silver light,
+that seemed to transform the old brown house
+into a fairy palace, stately and splendid. There
+was no wind, and no sound broke the stillness;
+yes, it might well be an enchanted palace, where
+every living thing lay fast bound by some
+mighty spell. The leaves drooped motionless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>
+from the branches; beyond the dark masses of
+trees, the broad lawns lay in green and silver.</p>
+
+<p>"It's more like something Greek!" said
+Hugh. "Tempe, or some such place. If a
+dryad, now, were to come out from that great
+tulip-tree&mdash;good heavens!"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped short, in the deep shadow of a
+clump of chestnut-trees. Something moved,
+behind the very tree he was looking at. A
+figure came lightly out into the open; a woman's
+figure, slight and supple, clad in shadowy white.
+A dryad? No! the girl he had seen in the
+summer-house. He knew the face, as it shone
+upturned in the moonlight; knew the firm
+mouth and chin, the blue eyes, the look of careless
+power; seen once only, it was as if he had
+known the face all his life.</p>
+
+<p>What was she doing? A smile lighted her
+grave eyes suddenly. She extended her arms,
+her face still raised to the moon. Her whole
+figure, light as thistle-down, began to sway, to
+drift hither and thither over the silver-green
+lawn. Dancing, was she? It was no human
+dance, surely; the name was too common for
+this marvel of motion. A wave cresting and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>
+curling toward its break; a cloud blown lightly
+along a summer sky by a gentle wind; a field of
+grain, bending and rippling under the same wind.
+Hugh thought of all these things, and rejected
+each in turn, as unworthy of comparison to this,
+the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He
+watched her, as if in a dream of delight; each
+moment it seemed that he must wake, and find
+the lovely vision gone. It was too rare, too
+perfect to be real. It seemed as if all the moonlight
+in the world were drawn to this one spot,
+to shine on that white figure, dancing, swaying,
+hither and thither&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Ah! it was over. She stopped; threw, it
+seemed, some words upward toward the moon,
+accompanying them with a wave of her hand.
+Then she turned away, and passed slowly out of
+sight, under the dark trees. As she went, she
+began to sing; softly at first, a mere breath of
+sound; but as she passed farther and farther on,
+her song rang out clear and sweet; the voice
+and the song that he had heard the night before,
+in the field beyond the wall:</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"Trois anges sont venus ce soir,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">M'apportaient de bien belles choses!"</span><br />
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+
+<h3>ABOUT NOTHING IN PARTICULAR</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Jerusalem!" said Philip Merryweather.</p>
+
+<p>"And Madagascar!" responded his twin
+brother. "Well, what did I tell you, old
+Towser?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know; but last night, you see, I was
+half-asleep, and didn't see it all. This is what I
+call a room."</p>
+
+<p>Phil sat up in bed, and looked about the great
+nursery, into which the early sun was shining
+brightly.</p>
+
+<p>"The bigness of it!" he said, "if nothing
+more. You could have quite a track round this,
+do you know it? Most rooms are all walls; I
+hate walls. Shove the furniture into the middle,
+and chalk a six-foot track&mdash;hey? What
+do you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"This!" replied Gerald, throwing a pillow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
+with accurate aim. "Does it occur to your
+arboreal, if not river-drift mind, that there are
+people under this room? Heehaw! excuse me
+for not sooner addressing you in your own language.
+Here, belay that! I want to know
+what you think of them all."</p>
+
+<p>"Jolly!" was Phil's brief but emphatic verdict.
+But Gerald seemed to demand something
+more. "Isn't Mr. Montfort the most corking
+person you ever saw?"</p>
+
+<p>"Except three, I should say he was. That
+lame chap is a corker, too. Reminds me a bit
+of the Codger, I don't know why."</p>
+
+<p>"So he does!" said Gerald, eagerly. "I
+didn't see it before. Queer stunt, too, because
+she always makes me think of Hildegarde."</p>
+
+<p>"Who? Miss Peggy? I don't&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no! Who said anything about Miss
+Peggy? Miss Montfort, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"They are all Miss Montforts. You mean
+Miss Margaret? Well&mdash;I see what you mean.
+She hasn't Hildegarde's beauty, though. Very
+attractive, but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That's what I mean!" said Gerald, eagerly.
+"There's something of that quiet way, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>
+takes hold of you and&mdash;oh, I didn't mean
+that they would be taken for sisters. Look
+here, Elderly Ape, was you thinking of getting
+up, or should I bring his gruel, and feed him
+wiz a 'poon, a pretty toddlekins?"</p>
+
+<p>"A pretty toddlekins will break your pretty
+noddlekins," replied Philip. "Avast there, and
+heave sponges!" And the conversation ended
+in a grand splashing duet executed in two enormous
+bath-tubs that stood in different corners of
+the great room.</p>
+
+<p>It was a merry party that met at breakfast.
+John Montfort looked round the table with
+pleasure, and wondered how he had ever sat
+here alone, year after year, when this kind of
+thing was to be had, apparently for the asking.
+Margaret's sweet face, opposite him, was radiant;
+it struck Mr. Montfort that he had never
+seen her look so pretty before. The delicate
+rose-flush on her cheek, the light in her eyes,
+an indescribable air of gaiety, of lightness,
+about her whole figure&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Why, this is what she needed!" said Mr.
+Montfort to himself. "The children were all
+very well; I am all very well myself, for an old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
+uncle, but children and old uncles are not all
+that a lassie needs. Ah, well, it is all as it
+should be. We remember, Rose!"</p>
+
+<p>Gerald, at Margaret's left hand, was talking
+eagerly. If her face was radiant, his was
+sparkling. For the first time in his life, it
+is probable, he seemed to take little heed of
+his breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you remember the thunder-storm, Miss
+Montfort? and the way that little chap ran
+around the long corridor? He's going to make
+a great runner some day. Cork&mdash;very nice
+little fellow. You say he isn't here now? I'm
+sorry! I wanted the Ape to see him."</p>
+
+<p>"The Ape?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Old Un. My brother, Long-leggius
+Ridiculus. Christian name Philip, but what
+has he done that I should call him that?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret laughed. She did not fully understand,
+but everything Gerald said seemed to her
+funny. "What does he call you?" she asked.
+"Or do you invent new names every day? Last
+night I heard you calling him&mdash;what was it?
+Ornithorhynchus Paradoxus?"</p>
+
+<p>"It might have been!" said Gerald, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
+modest pride. "I can 'gleek upon occasion.'
+I can also sling a syllable with the next man.
+It is only at monosyllables that I draw the
+line. When I call him Ape, I have to tack an
+adjective to it, or things happen. Miss Montfort,
+you don't know how glad I was to come.
+It was awfully kind of Mr. Montfort to ask us.
+I've always wanted to come again, and I didn't
+know when I should have a chance. There&mdash;there
+isn't any other place like this in the world,
+I believe. I've told the Ape a lot about it, and
+he was keen to see it, too. What a cork&mdash;that
+is, what an extremely fine fellow your cousin
+appears to be."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mind if I ask," said Margaret; "is
+'cork' a complimentary term?"</p>
+
+<p>Gerald blushed. "Why, you see," he said,
+rather ruefully, "I made up my mind that I
+would drop it when I came here. 'Corker,'
+and 'corking'&mdash;well, it means that a person
+is all right, don't you know? That he's awfully
+jolly, and&mdash;and&mdash;corking, in short. It's the
+thing fellows say nowadays. I get into the way
+of it, and then I go home, and the Mater says
+things to me. She doesn't like slang, and of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>
+course you don't either, Miss Montfort. I'll try
+not to do it again, truly I will."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I don't mind that kind of slang!"
+said Margaret; and she wondered at herself
+even as she spoke. "It&mdash;it seems so funny,
+somehow. I suppose when slang is really
+funny&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She looked up and caught her uncle looking
+at her with an expression of amusement. She
+blushed in her turn, stammered, and took refuge
+behind her coffee-urn.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime Peggy and Philip had fallen deep
+in conversation. He was the brother of Gertrude
+Merryweather, the beloved Snowy Owl
+of Peggy's happiest school-days; that was
+enough for Peggy. She was used to boys and
+brothers, and felt none of the shyness that
+often made Margaret's tongue trip and stammer
+in spite of her two years' advantage. Peggy
+was full of eager questionings:</p>
+
+<p>"How is she looking? dear lovely thing!
+Do you think she will go to college this fall?
+Oh, do try to make her! I do so want to have
+her back again,&mdash;near us, I mean. The Fluffy
+enters this fall, you know; the Snowy ought to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>
+come, too. Do try to make her, won't you,
+Mr. Merryweather?"</p>
+
+<p>Phil looked grave. "Said the kangaroo to
+the duck, this requires a little reflection!" he
+said. "The child Toots has her good points, as
+you observe, Miss Montfort. She is a rather
+nice child, and we like to have her at home.
+She has been at this old school three years, and
+I don't see the good of sisters if they are somewhere
+else all the time. Not that I should wish
+to stand in the way of the child Toots; but you
+see, Bell is off, too, and the Mater has been
+having things the matter with her,&mdash;rheumatism
+and that,&mdash;and the child Toots is useful at
+home,&mdash;uncommon useful she is."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! but&mdash;of course I'm aw&mdash;dreadfully
+sorry your mother isn't well; but&mdash;but Gertrude
+wants to come, doesn't she? Oh, well,
+I shall hope it will be all right. And oh! what
+do you think, Mr. Merryweather? The most
+astonishing thing happened last night. I must
+write and tell Gertrude all about it. The Horny
+is near here."</p>
+
+<p>"The Horny? Not&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Grace Wolfe. Think of it! Do you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>
+know her? Well, of course Gertrude has told
+you all about her. She is the most wonderful
+person in the world, and she is living close by
+here, taking care of some one,&mdash;you know she
+means to be a nurse. You know how wonderful
+she was when that poor girl was so sick at school&mdash;and
+she has been staying at Doctor Flower's,
+and he persuaded her to come and take care of
+this lady. You must see her,&mdash;I want everybody
+to see her. She isn't like anybody else,
+you know. Why, just when you look at her
+you feel that; I don't know what it is,&mdash;I can't
+explain,&mdash;but it's there. And then her voice!
+When she sings, it's&mdash;it's like magic, somehow.
+Oh, dear! I wish I could express myself; I never
+know how to say things."</p>
+
+<p>"You are saying them beautifully!" said
+gallant Philip. "Besides, of course, Toots has
+told me a good deal about your wonderful friend.
+Does she still go climbing all about, disdaining
+doors and stairs, and using windows instead?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, hush!" said Peggy. "I don't know
+whether we are to speak of it or not, but&mdash;she
+came up the wall, and in at our window last
+night."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, she did. Don't tell anybody, because
+she might not like it. She fluttered in like a
+bird, and stayed awhile, and then fluttered out
+again. And then&mdash;we heard her singing in
+the distance as she went back, and really and
+truly, it seemed like fairy music."</p>
+
+<p>Something made Peggy look up at this moment,
+and she caught Hugh Montfort's eyes
+fixed on her with so intent a gaze that she
+stumbled and blushed, and thought she had
+said something wrong. "Don't ask me anything
+about it," she murmured to her neighbor.
+"Perhaps&mdash;they may not like to have people
+climb up the walls here; I wouldn't get Grace
+into trouble for twenty worlds."</p>
+
+<p>"Hugh," said Mr. Montfort, "I am going to
+get you to do the honors of the garden and
+stables to these young gentlemen, as I am busy
+this morning. The girls have a dozen plans, no
+doubt; but perhaps Peggy and Jean would like
+to go with you and see the puppies, while Margaret
+sees to her housekeeping. How does that
+suit you all?"</p>
+
+<p>Every one acquiesced in the arrangement,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>
+and, as they went out into the garden, Peggy
+managed to slip beside her brother.</p>
+
+<p>"What did I say that was wrong, Hugh?
+You were looking at me as if I had done all
+kinds of things. Would Uncle John mind her
+climbing up the wall, do you think? She
+couldn't possibly hurt it; she is light as a
+feather; and Margaret didn't say anything
+about her not doing it again."</p>
+
+<p>A faint color crept into Hugh's brown cheek.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear little Peggy," he said, "you must
+not be so imaginative. It is a new trait in
+you. What possible objection could there be
+to a young lady climbing up the wall if she
+enjoys it? It seemed&mdash;a little unusual, I suppose,
+and so I was interested. Was I indiscreet?
+I hardly supposed you would be having
+confidences with young Merryweather quite so
+soon."</p>
+
+<p>"Hugh, don't be ridiculous. Then it's all
+right, and I am so glad! Thank you, dear."</p>
+
+<p>She was springing away, but Hugh called her
+back.</p>
+
+<p>"One moment, Peggy. This&mdash;this friend
+of yours seems to be a remarkable person. Has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>
+she other accomplishments besides climbing?
+Did I hear you speak of singing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Hugh, I wish you could hear her sing!
+You might have heard her last night, if you had
+only been out. It was full moon, and the moon
+makes her mad, she says. Anyhow, when the
+moon is out she is wilder than ever, fuller of&mdash;whatever
+it is that she is full of; I don't know,
+something like a spirit, or a bird. Once I saw
+her dance in the moonlight, and I shall never
+forget it as long as I live."</p>
+
+<p>"No more shall I," said Hugh, under his
+breath. "Thank you, Peggy," he said aloud.
+"Don't let me keep you, my dear; or were you
+coming with us?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know, Hugh; I want to do so
+many things, all at once. I want to show Jean
+the house, and the garden, and the summer-houses,
+and&mdash;oh! oh, you darlings! you beauties!
+Hugh, do look at these lovely duckies!"</p>
+
+<p>The "lovely duckies" were Nip and Tuck,
+who came leaping and dancing up the walk,
+wagging and sneezing, with every demonstration
+of frantic joy.</p>
+
+<p>"Which is which? Nip, oh, you dear! Give<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
+a paw! Do they know how to give a paw,
+Hugh?"</p>
+
+<p>"They know how to fetch," said Hugh.
+"Here, Tuck! here, boys! What have I
+got?"</p>
+
+<p>He held up a stick; straightway the dogs
+went mad, and yelled and danced, sneezed and
+yapped, like wild creatures. "Fetch!" said
+Hugh, throwing the stick. Together the puppies
+flashed off in pursuit; fell upon the stick
+and each other, and rolled over and over, still
+in frenzied voice and motion; finally came to
+an understanding, and, taking each an end in
+his mouth, came cantering abreast up to Hugh,
+and, laying the stick at his feet, looked up and
+asked for more, as plainly as ever did Oliver
+Twist. Here was a pleasant amusement for young
+people. The grave Hugh and the gay Merryweathers,
+Peggy and Jean, all became absorbed
+in picking up sticks and throwing them. There
+was no end to the puppies' enthusiasm, apparently;
+they yelled, and rushed, and yelled and
+rushed again; and when Margaret came out an
+hour afterward, anxious lest her guests should
+find time hang heavy on their hands, she found<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
+one and all flushed and breathless, hurling sticks
+and stones, and making almost half as much
+noise as the dogs themselves. At sight of Margaret,
+cool and pearly in her white dress, Gerald
+and Peggy dropped their sticks, and looked
+abashed; but Hugh called to her merrily:
+"Margaret, they are making great progress. I
+think my pupil has got farther than yours,
+though. Miss Margaret and I are training them
+for a prize contest," he added, turning to
+Gerald. "This is an extension of their usual
+practice, that is all."</p>
+
+<p>"Hurrah!" said Gerald, much relieved. "I
+was afraid she would think&mdash;I didn't know
+whether she would approve," he concluded,
+somewhat lamely.</p>
+
+<p>It <i>was</i> amazing. It was rather as if the
+Venus of Milo had begun to sing light opera,
+Gerald thought; but after all, how much pleasanter
+if she should, than to stand there all day
+and wonder how she was going to eat her breakfast
+without any arms. With this shocking
+reflection, Master Gerald betook himself once
+more to the throwing of sticks, and the sport
+went on till Margaret called the puppies off, declaring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>
+that they would be too tired for their
+afternoon run.</p>
+
+<p>"She takes care of everything, you see!"
+said Gerald, aside to his brother. "All without
+any fuss; that's just like Hilda, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Phil. "Appears to be a corker!"</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you wouldn't talk so much slang,
+Phil!" said Gerald. "What kind of word is
+that to use in speaking of Miss Montfort?"</p>
+
+<p>Philip looked up in amazement, and saw his
+brother flushed, and evidently annoyed in
+earnest.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, may I be split and buttered!" said
+Phil.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you were!" said Gerald, forcing a
+laugh. "Come along, and don't be an ass!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+
+<h3>GRACE'S SYSTEM</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mrs. Peyton."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that door shut? lock it, will you? and&mdash;just
+go and look out of the window, please. No
+one there? Thank you!"</p>
+
+<p>She sank back on her pillows with a sigh of
+relief.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" asked Margaret, soothingly.
+"What troubles you, dear Mrs. Peyton?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am frightened!" said Emily Peyton.</p>
+
+<p>"Frightened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I am afraid of that girl, Margaret."</p>
+
+<p>"What girl? You cannot possibly mean
+Grace?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Peyton glanced around her. Evidently
+she did mean Grace.</p>
+
+<p>"She behaves so!" she said, in a low voice.
+"I don't think she is in her right mind, to begin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>
+with; it is terrible to be with a person who
+may break out into madness at any moment."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear," said Margaret, "you are absolutely
+and wholly mistaken. Grace is as sane
+as I am. She is one of the sanest persons I
+have ever known, it seems to me. Of course
+she is singular&mdash;eccentric, if you like. But
+what has she been doing, to disturb you so?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Peyton glanced around her again, with
+an apprehensive glance. "Well!" she said,
+"I&mdash;I suppose I may as well tell you, Margaret.
+I have been ill so long, I may have become&mdash;a
+little unreasonable. There is nobody
+who cares; I never saw any reason why I should
+be reasonable. Having to lie here, it is a pity
+if I may not have my own way, don't you think
+so? I have had it, at any rate; I don't say
+that it has always been a sensible way; I detest
+sensible things and people. I can't imagine
+how I have endured you so long. I should not,
+if you were not pretty and prim."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you!" said Margaret, soberly.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't interrupt me! This has been on my
+mind for two weeks, and I want to get rid of
+it. There is nobody else I can tell. Doctor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>
+Flower, like a veritable fiend, after sending me
+this firebrand, goes off to Europe. A physician
+should be indicted for going to Europe. Well&mdash;I
+don't know what to tell you, or where to
+begin. She&mdash;she frightens me, I say. I never
+know what she is going to do next. Yesterday&mdash;I
+felt wretchedly yesterday, Margaret; I was
+in acute pain all day. I suppose I was pretty
+impatient. I&mdash;well, I threw something out of
+the window in a pet,&mdash;my amethyst rope it was,&mdash;and
+she stood and looked at me quietly, as if
+she were taking notes of my appearance. I
+couldn't bear it; I told her to go after it. Just
+a little impatient cry, it was. My dear, in an
+instant she was out of the window. Gone, out
+of sight like a flash. I shrieked; no one heard
+me. I&mdash;you will not believe this, Margaret&mdash;I
+got out of bed, and dragged myself to the
+window, expecting to see her dead and shattered
+at the bottom. There she stood, cool as crystal,
+shaking the leaves from her dress. She looked
+up and saw me, and if ever I saw an elfish look&mdash;do
+you believe in witchcraft, Margaret? my
+nurse did; she told me some strange tales when
+I was a child."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No need of witchcraft in this case," said
+Margaret, smiling. "Grace is as active as a
+cat, and her special delight is to climb up and
+down walls. There is a grape-vine under this
+window, isn't there? That would be quite
+enough for the Goat, as they called her at
+school."</p>
+
+<p>"That isn't all," said Mrs. Peyton. "She's
+not right, I tell you; not canny, as Nurse used
+to say. You may laugh, Margaret Montfort. I
+tell you, lying here year after year, one gets to
+thinking all kinds of things. I could tell you&mdash;who
+knows the old woman was not right
+after all?&mdash;listen to this. Yesterday, this very
+yesterday, she was standing there by the mantel-piece,
+talking as quietly as we are talking
+now. Suddenly, without a word, down she
+falls in a swoon, or trance, or something unearthly.
+I had let the maids go out; we two
+were alone in the house. There she lay, and I
+thought she was dead. I got up again! No
+one knows what it cost me, Margaret. I have
+forgotten how to walk; I merely dragged myself
+across to where she lay. She was breathing;
+I could not see that she was paler than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>
+usual&mdash;she never has any color, you know. I
+called and screamed; I raved and wept, I believe;
+you cannot fancy how terrible it was, that
+living, breathing form, lying there, the lips
+almost smiling, but no sign, no twitching of an
+eyelid, only the beating of the heart, to tell me
+that she was not dead. Hush! do you know
+the story of Christy Moran? My nurse's grandmother
+used to know her. She was&mdash;I don't
+know what she was&mdash;but she used to do this
+very thing. They would find her sitting in her
+chair, breathing, but without speech or motion,
+and afterward they would hear of some devilish
+act or other, committed at that very hour, in
+some distant town or village, by a figure wearing
+her likeness. Don't laugh! don't laugh!
+I tell you, we don't know everything in this
+civilization that we talk so much about. I
+tried to say a prayer, Margaret,&mdash;I used to
+say them regularly,&mdash;but&mdash;and I had hardly
+begun before she opened her eyes and smiled at
+me like a child. 'Did you ever hear of catalepsy?'
+she says, and she went out of the room
+without another word, and left me to get back
+to bed as best I could."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Margaret was silent, not knowing what to
+say. She had no doubt that Grace was acting
+upon some theory of her own, and was playing
+these wild pranks in the hope of rousing her
+patient to action and exercise. Certainly, to
+get Mrs. Peyton out of bed twice in two days
+was no small feat; still, Margaret's gentle mind
+shrank from the thought of forcing one so frail,
+so enfeebled by years of invalidism, into sudden
+activity which might be injurious, or even fatal
+to her. She could not betray Grace&mdash;what
+should she say? But there was no need of her
+saying anything, for Mrs. Peyton went on, hurriedly,
+hardly glancing at her auditor. Evidently
+it was a relief to her to free her mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't I send her away, you may
+ask. Margaret, I ask myself the same question
+twenty times a day. My dear, she is too
+fascinating! She interests me so! Have you
+heard her sing, and tell stories? I have not
+been so interested for years. She makes me
+restless, I tell you; she makes me think of
+things I had forgotten, or that I said good-by
+to years and years ago. Look! she sits down
+on the floor here, beside the bed&mdash;in the night,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
+often, when I cannot sleep, and she has been
+rubbing me&mdash;that is another reason why I do
+not let her go, Margaret; her touch is like healing
+balm; there is magic in it, I tell you. She
+sits down there, with her long hair falling all
+about her, in the moonlight, looking like nothing
+earthly, and she talks&mdash;or chants, rather,&mdash;there
+isn't anything like it, so I don't know
+what to call it&mdash;about foreign countries. She
+has never seen them, or she says she never has.
+That is a little matter to her; she knows all
+about them, twenty times as much as I do,
+though I used to travel till I hated the sight
+of a railway or a steamer. She tells me things
+about Sicily, and Norway, and the Hebrides,&mdash;old
+Icelandic legends,&mdash;about Burnt Njal, and
+those people; she makes me want to see the
+places, actually. There are plenty of places I
+have not seen. She says Iceland is a flower-garden
+in summer. Margaret, don't laugh at
+what I am going to say!"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, I am not laughing, dear Mrs.
+Peyton."</p>
+
+<p>"She says&mdash;this girl says&mdash;she thinks I
+could&mdash;get up. Get up and do things, I mean,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>
+like other people. Did you ever hear of such
+nonsense?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Peyton laughed; but she looked eagerly
+at Margaret, and there was something in her
+eyes that had never been there before.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret leaned over her, and kissed the
+beautiful forehead. "I am sure you could!"
+she said; and at the moment she did feel sure.
+Something of Grace's spirit seemed to pass into
+her, and she felt a hope, a confidence, that
+had never come into her mind before. Why
+not? Why should it not be? Mrs. Peyton was
+still in middle life; she ought to have years of
+life before her. Why might she not be roused,
+be taught over again how to live, and to enjoy
+the good and glorious earth? Margaret's eyes
+kindled.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure you could!" she repeated. "Let
+us try! Let me help Grace, and let us all try
+our very best, dear Mrs. Peyton. Just think how
+wonderful it would be to get well; to go about
+again, and be alive among live people. Oh, my
+dear, let us try!"</p>
+
+<p>But the lady's mood changed. In a flash,
+even as Margaret was gazing at her with eager,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
+loving eyes,&mdash;eyes in which stood tears of affection
+and anxiety,&mdash;she changed. The mocking
+smile crept back to her lips, the light of
+interest died from her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Bah!" she said. "Little goose, what do
+you know about life and live people? It was
+to get away from them that I took to my bed,
+do you hear? There, go away! I have been
+talking great nonsense; forget all about it!
+Sick folks often talk nonsense. Give me something
+to play with, and go away! I had a new
+toy yesterday, an amber ball. It's in the top
+drawer. Ah! isn't that a beauty? Give it to
+me! See, how smooth and cool it is, Margaret!
+Do you think an amber necklace would be becoming
+to me? I can wear yellow, you know;
+blondes of my type rarely can, but it always
+suited me. Do you remember a story about
+the Amber Gods? It is one of the few stories
+I ever cared for. To-morrow I'll order a
+set of amber jewelry, bracelets and necklace,
+and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She stopped suddenly, seeing the grave compassion
+in Margaret's eyes.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 310px;">
+<img src="images/gs05.png" width="310" height="400" alt="&quot;SHE LOOKED UP, AND SAW GRACE SITTING ON A BROAD, LOW BRANCH.&quot;" title="&quot;SHE LOOKED UP, AND SAW GRACE SITTING ON A BROAD, LOW BRANCH.&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;SHE LOOKED UP, AND SAW GRACE SITTING ON A BROAD, LOW BRANCH.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Don't speak to me!" she cried, angrily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
+"You are thinking&mdash;I know what you are
+thinking&mdash;that I cannot wear necklaces in
+bed. You think I am a wretched, helpless,
+faded old woman. I hate you! Go away!"
+and Margaret went.</p>
+
+<p>As she passed along the garden-walk with
+bent head, musing soberly enough, something
+struck her lightly on the head,&mdash;a cherry,
+which fell at her feet. She looked up, and
+saw Grace sitting on a broad, low branch.</p>
+
+<p>"Come up!" said the Goat.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret smiled, and shook her head. "My
+dear Grace, I never climbed a tree in my life.
+I should not know where to begin."</p>
+
+<p>"Time you learned!" said Grace, gravely.
+"There is no knowing when the race will
+return to arboreal habits. Come, Margaret, I
+want you!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret hesitated, and was lost. She looked
+about, half fearing, half hoping that somebody
+was in sight. No! no gardener came with his
+watering-can, no boy with his wheelbarrow.
+She turned back, to meet once more the compelling
+glance, and see the hand stretched out to
+help her. How it was accomplished, Margaret<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
+never knew, but, after a breathless moment, she
+found herself seated on the branch, too, clinging
+fast to the rugged bark, and not daring to look
+below.</p>
+
+<p>"All right!" said Grace, composedly. "See,
+now, what good cherries these are! I have permission
+from Madame to kill myself with them,
+and am doing my best. They are white oxhearts,
+the finest cherry that grows!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I daren't let go my hold of the
+branch," said poor Margaret; "and my head
+is so dizzy. Dear Grace, how shall I ever
+get down again? Won't you help me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not now! Now it is necessary that you
+should stay for a space, and learn to accept this,
+as other situations. Begin gradually to look
+down and about you. Fix your eye on that
+apple-tree, the one with the hump-back; then
+let your eyes travel slowly, slowly, over the
+ground, till they come here, under our feet.
+There! you see it is easy. Is the dizziness
+gone?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is certainly much better. I think perhaps,
+in a little while, I may get used to it, but
+I am quite sure I never shall like it. Why do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>
+you like to climb so, Grace? Why is it more
+comfortable to sit in a tree than on a pleasant,
+safe seat on the grass?"</p>
+
+<p>Grace shrugged her shoulders. "Who can
+say?" she said. "I have always supposed
+that the soul of my grandam inhabited a bird.
+Shakespeare! And you know I am an owl myself
+in regular, if not in good, standing. What
+would you? It is my nature. And how do we
+find the Patient to-day? Did she tell you that
+she left her bed twice yesterday?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Grace, it frightens me, all this wild
+work. Are you sure what you are doing?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure that there is nothing the matter
+with this lady. I think she can be brought
+back to health by foul means, but not by fair.
+I think that in this case the end justifies the
+means. <i>Voil&agrave;!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret looked at her earnestly; she met a
+gaze so full, so clear, so brave, that her own
+spirit rose to meet it.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Grace held out her hand. "Come!"
+she said. "Trust me, Margaret! I am not a
+hobgoblin, though I may pose as one now and
+then. Trust me; and&mdash;by and by&mdash;try to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
+love me a little, for I loved you before ever I
+saw you."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret took the slender hand and pressed
+it cordially. "I will trust you!" she said. "I
+have doubted, Grace, I confess; doubted and
+feared; but now I shall not fear any more.
+Only&mdash;oh, my dear, don't frighten her more
+than you have to. She really thinks you are&mdash;not
+right; and some of the things she told me
+were certainly rather terrifying. That trance,
+or whatever it was&mdash;well&mdash;what was it,
+Grace?"</p>
+
+<p>Grace laughed, a laugh so merry and clear
+that the robins left off eating cherries to see
+what the sound might be. "What was it?
+My child, it was nothing. I fell down, I shut
+my eyes&mdash;again, <i>voil&agrave;!</i> Her mind was prepared
+for the marvellous, and she found it.
+Nothing simpler than that."</p>
+
+<p>"But you said something about&mdash;catalepsy!
+the very sound of that word always frightens
+me, because of a story I read once. I don't
+wonder it frightened Mrs. Peyton."</p>
+
+<p>"I asked her if she had ever heard of it. A
+simple question! Apparently she had. Come,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>
+let us eat cherries, and strive to approximate
+the lettuce. Do you feel any green crinkles
+in your veins yet? And how is the Innocent to-day?
+I love that child."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Peggy! I left her trying to teach
+Tuck to keep a biscuit on his nose while she
+counted twenty. When I left, he could not get
+beyond ten, when it was devoured with yelps of
+joy. But I have no doubt Peggy will succeed
+in time; she has plenty of patience, and plenty
+of perseverance."</p>
+
+<p>Grace nodded sagely. "Plenty of patience and
+plenty of perseverance!" she repeated. "Great
+qualities, Margaret. I wonder if I have them.
+I am going to find out. Now&mdash;who is the tall
+person who is lame, and sits in a summer-house?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret laughed. "He doesn't sit in a
+summer-house all the time," she said. "That is
+Peggy's brother, Hugh Montfort. I want you to
+know him, Grace; he is so delightful; I know
+you will be friends. Come over to tea this evening,
+won't you? Mrs. Peyton promised me you
+should; you know we have been trying for you
+ever since Peggy came. Do come! Uncle John<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
+is planning something for us; he will not tell
+me what, but it is sure to be something delightful.
+Promise that you will come; and then you
+must really help me get down, my dear, for the
+girls will be wondering where I am."</p>
+
+<p>"Your hands here&mdash;so! Let yourself swing
+clear&mdash;don't be afraid; hang still&mdash;now drop
+easily! There! was that so very dreadful?
+Good-by, cool, green, lovely one! I will come
+to-night; good-by!"</p>
+
+<p>"What will Rita say," Margaret questioned
+herself as she took her way homeward, "when I
+write her that I have been climbing cherry-trees,
+and getting down from them without a ladder?"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE MYSTERIES OF FERNLEY</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Now, Uncle John!"</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be tormenting, sir! You know that
+you promised us a new Mystery of Fernley, if
+we would all be good. We have been good;
+virtue shines from every one of us, doesn't it,
+Hugh?"</p>
+
+<p>"My eyes are dazzled," replied her cousin.
+"Most of it seems to come from the feminine
+side of the house, though, I fear. All that the
+boys and I have done has been to abstain from
+actual crime."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, cherries!" said Phil.</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"Up into the tree of cherry,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Who should climb but little Jerry?"</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Pooh! pooh!" said Mr. Montfort. "What
+are cherries for except to eat, I should like to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
+know? Yes, you have all been good children,
+and it is true that I promised&mdash;something.
+Sit down now, all of you, and I will tell you
+the story of the Lost Casket."</p>
+
+<p>The young people clustered about him, sitting
+on the floor, on cushions and footstools, on anything
+rather than the prosaic seat of an ordinary
+chair. Mr. Montfort looked around on their
+bright, eager faces. Margaret sat next him,
+his own Margaret, fair and sweet in her white
+dress, with the bright, joyous look that had
+grown so habitual to her of late. Next to her
+was Gerald Merryweather; it struck Mr. Montfort
+suddenly that Gerald Merryweather usually
+was beside Margaret. Beyond them again,
+Peggy and Jean, with Phil between them; Phil,
+who as yet preferred his sister Gertrude's society
+to that of any girl he had ever seen. At
+the other side of the ring, Grace Wolfe, sitting a
+little apart, with the curious air of solitariness
+that seemed to surround her even in company.
+Hugh Montfort was not far off, though, and his
+deep brown eyes were gazing at her intently.</p>
+
+<p>"Once upon a time," Mr. Montfort began,
+and was greeted with a chorus of disappointment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>
+"Oh, Uncle John! You said it was
+true."</p>
+
+<p>"Not a fairy story this time, sir, please; give
+us the real thing!"</p>
+
+<p>"Will you be quiet, you impetuous creatures?"
+asked Uncle John. "It is true, so far
+as I know. And if you interrupt me again&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"We will not!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hear us swear!" cried the young people.</p>
+
+<p>"Once upon a time, then, some hundred and
+fifty years ago, there lived here at Fernley Mr.
+Peter Montfort, the great-great-grandfather of
+some of you. He was a worthy gentleman,
+with a pretty taste for engravings; that Raphael
+Morghen print of the Transfiguration, Margaret,
+that you are so fond of, is from his collection.
+He travelled about Europe a good deal, buying
+engravings; that is the only thing I know
+about him, except the fact that he married
+twice; and on this marrying twice hangs our
+story. Listen now, and you shall hear. His
+first wife (she was a Miss Rhinefels) died, leaving
+him with an only daughter, Christina Montfort.
+The only time the name Christina appears,
+I believe, in the family annals. At the time<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>
+of her mother's death Christina was a woman
+grown; a handsome person, to judge from her
+miniature, and of strong feelings. She kept
+house for her father, and expected to do so all
+her days, as an early disappointment had disinclined
+her for marriage. When, after a couple
+of years, her father, being then a man of seventy,
+brought home a wife of twenty-five, Christina
+was, not unnaturally, incensed. She refused
+to speak to the newcomer, shut herself up in her
+own apartments, and had a special servant to
+wait upon her. This uncomfortable state of
+things continued for some time, when she sickened
+of some acute distemper, and died in a short
+time. She possessed some fine jewels, which she
+had inherited from her mother, and she was
+heard to say repeatedly that her stepmother
+should never lay a finger on one of them. It is
+supposed that she, or her servant acting under
+her orders, hid the casket containing these
+jewels somewhere in this house; at all events,
+they were never found after her death, and have
+never, it is said, been seen to this day."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Uncle John! but has any one looked
+for them?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My dear Peggy, every one has looked for
+them. I cannot tell you how many Montfort
+ladies, in all these generations, have fretted
+their nerves and worn out their finger-nails,
+hunting for this Lost Casket. I specially requested
+your Aunt Faith, Margaret, not to
+mention it to you or your cousins when you
+were here together. I had seen so many vain
+searches, and heard of so many heart-burnings,
+in connection with it, that I thought it best to
+defer the information till&mdash;till later. This,
+however, seems a very favorable time. You
+are all too sensible, girls, to be unhappy if you
+do not find it. To tell the truth, I used to
+hunt for it when I was a boy. But you can
+have a grand game of hide and seek, with an
+object, imaginary or actual, at the end of it;
+and I wish you a merry game, young people,
+and I return to my conversation with the Sieur
+de Montaigne."</p>
+
+<p>He was surrounded in an instant, kissed,
+caressed, and thanked till he declared his life
+was in danger, and threatened to take up the
+hearth-broom in self-defence; finally they
+trooped off, to hold a consultation in the hall.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 267px;">
+<img src="images/gs06.png" width="267" height="400" alt="&quot;ON THE SECOND LANDING THEY PAUSED TO SALUTE THE OLD PORTRAITS.&quot;" title="&quot;ON THE SECOND LANDING THEY PAUSED TO SALUTE THE OLD PORTRAITS.&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;ON THE SECOND LANDING THEY PAUSED TO SALUTE THE OLD PORTRAITS.&quot;</span>
+</div><p>"Shall we divide our forces and go in small
+parties?" inquired Hugh, looking at Grace.</p>
+
+<p>"I say we go just as it happens," said Peggy.
+"I think that will be much more exciting."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it will," said Hugh, becoming resigned,
+as he saw Peggy link her arm in Grace's.
+"Come on, then, girls and boys! Suppose we
+begin with the garret; Margaret has been promising
+to show me its wonders ever since I
+came."</p>
+
+<p>On the second landing they paused to salute
+the old portraits, and Hugh must point out this
+or that one that had a familiar look.</p>
+
+<p>"This might be Margaret's self, I always
+think, Miss Wolfe; this sweet-faced lady in the
+silvery green gown. See! she has the same
+clear, quiet, true eyes, and her hair is the same
+shade of soft brown. A lovely face."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you looking at the Sea-green Me?"
+asked Margaret over his shoulder. "Our dear
+Rita liked it, and used to call it her Sea-green
+Margaret. But come now and look at the
+glorious Regina, who actually has a look of
+Rita herself. And I want Grace to see Hugo,
+too."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She passed on, and Grace was about to follow,
+but Hugh detained her. "Just one moment,"
+he said, speaking low. "This is a fine collection,
+Miss Wolfe, but I see no portrait of the
+Wood-nymph."</p>
+
+<p>"The Wood-nymph?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Do you not know that a dryad haunts
+this garden of Fernley? Sometimes she is not
+seen, only heard in the dusk, singing magical
+songs, that fill whoever hears them with a
+strange feeling akin to madness. But sometimes&mdash;sometimes
+she leaves her tree, and
+comes out in the moonlight, and&mdash;dances&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He paused. Grace had started, and now
+looked up at him with a curious expression, in
+which anger, mirth, and fear seemed struggling
+for the upper hand. Before she could reply, a
+terrific scream rang through the gallery, startling
+the whole party. Turning, they saw Jean,
+who had run on before the rest in her eagerness
+to explore, standing at the farther end
+of the corridor, with open mouth and staring
+eyes, the very image of terror.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear child," cried Margaret, running
+toward her, "what is it? Are you hurt?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Jeanie?" said Peggy, who was
+the first to reach her sister, and already had
+her in her arms. "Jean, don't gasp so! You
+have seen something; is that it? Margaret,
+what did I always tell you?"</p>
+
+<p>Jean nodded, still gasping, and clung to
+Peggy with eager, trembling hands. "Oh!"
+she moaned. "Peggy, save me! take me
+away! the closet; oh, the closet!"</p>
+
+<p>"What closet, dear? This one? Why, this
+is the broom closet. There is nothing here to
+frighten you, Jean."</p>
+
+<p>"The woman!" murmured Jean. "The
+dreadful dead woman! Peggy, I saw her eyes,
+and her long hair. Oh, I shall die, I know I
+shall!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you poor lamb!" cried Margaret, laughing
+in spite of her compassion. She hurried to
+the closet and flung the door wide open. "It
+is only Mrs. Body!" she said. "Come and look
+again, Jean; it is the lay-figure, dear, nothing
+else in the world."</p>
+
+<p>"Lay figure?" faltered Jean, still trembling
+and hanging back.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, the model. Grandmother Montfort<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>
+used to paint a great deal, and she had this
+creature made to stand for the figure. Come
+and look at it, dear child."</p>
+
+<p>Gently and persuasively she drew the trembling
+girl forward; the others all pressed behind
+her.</p>
+
+<p>There on the floor of the closet lay a figure
+which might at the first glance have alarmed a
+stouter heart than fifteen-year-old Jean's,&mdash;the
+figure of a woman, scantily draped in white.
+The arms were stretched out stiffly, the face,
+with its staring eyeballs, over which fell some
+lank wisps of hair, was turned toward the door.
+No wonder Jean was terrified.</p>
+
+<p>"I am so sorry!" said Margaret. "The
+children, Basil and Susan D., found her in the
+garret last winter. They begged to be allowed
+to have her for a plaything, so they kept her in
+here, and had great fun with her. Her name
+is Mrs. Body, but she can take any part, from
+Ophelia to Simple Susan. She took tea with us
+once, when Uncle John was away, and she behaved
+beautifully; so you see you really must
+not mind her, Jean, dear."</p>
+
+<p>"It's no wonder she was frightened, though,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>
+said Gerald. "My right arm cleaves to the
+roof of my mouth, even now that I know who
+she is. Mrs. Body, my respects to you, ma'am,
+and I desire you of less acquaintance."</p>
+
+<p>While they were all laughing over Mrs. Body,
+and commenting upon her various points, Gerald
+slipped round to Margaret's side.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Montfort," he said, speaking in a low
+tone, "do you remember the roarer?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I do, Mr. Merryweather. Do you
+know, you never showed me the place. You
+had to go away the next day, you remember."</p>
+
+<p>"That is just what I was thinking," said
+Gerald. "I have never forgotten that burning
+moment when Mrs. Cook and I foregathered in
+the dark. I was thinking, what if the Lost
+Casket should happen to be somewhere about
+that place in the wall? and anyhow, it would
+be fun to explore it, and I promised to show it
+to you, and I like to keep my promises, because
+virtue is my only joy. Won't you come with
+me now, and let the rest go on? Awfully nice
+in the garret, I am sure, but&mdash;won't you come,
+please?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh," said Margaret, "that would be delightful!
+But&mdash;it is quite dark, isn't it? and
+they have all the candles."</p>
+
+<p>"All except this," said Gerald, drawing a
+slender cylinder from his pocket. "Electric
+candle; you have seen them, of course. I
+brought it with me, intending some such exploration,
+if permitted. I ran up and got it, at
+Mr. Montfort's first word of this search. Come!
+the down-stairs hall. This way; oh, please,
+this way."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret hesitated, looking doubtfully at
+him. "I&mdash;don't know if I ought," she
+said. "I should like it of all things, if I
+thought&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't think!" said Gerald, hastily. "Great
+mistake to think; wastes the tissues awfully.
+Action first, thought afterward! aphorism! Or
+if you must indulge in the baneful pursuit, think
+how much poor Jerry wants you. Poor Jerry!
+child of misfortune!"</p>
+
+<p>"Is that the way you get everything you
+want?" said Margaret, laughing, as she followed
+him half-reluctantly down-stairs.</p>
+
+<p>"One way; there are others. This is the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
+best, since it procures me your company. See,
+now! in this niche here, behind the big picture!"</p>
+
+<p>He passed his hand along a panel; it swung
+back, revealing blackness.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret stared. "I never knew that was
+a door!" she said. "Mr. Merryweather, do
+you know, I think the person who built this
+house must have been a smuggler, a magician,
+and a detective, all in one."</p>
+
+<p>"Fine combination!" said Gerald. "I should
+like to have known the old codg&mdash;I mean
+gentleman. No deep mystery here, though,
+beyond the secret door. He did love secret
+doors, that ancestor of yours. He may have
+been an architect, and have thought door-handles
+unsightly, as they are. But see!"</p>
+
+<p>They were now standing in a deep recess, and
+he waved his candle to and fro. "This would
+appear to have been originally used as a kind
+of store-room, or drying-room. See those hooks;
+probably for hams&mdash;if not for hanging," he
+added. "If you prefer tragedy, Miss Montfort,
+you shall have it. There is room for ten persons
+to hang here, without touching. Their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
+ghastly upturned faces, their blood-stained robes,
+glimmering spectral white in the&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't!" said Margaret. "You really
+frighten me. Yes, they must be for hams; now
+I think of it, I have heard Frances speak of the
+drying-closet. This wall is warm; it must be
+close against the kitchen chimney."</p>
+
+<p>"Jerusalem!" exclaimed Gerald. "Here are
+steps, Miss Montfort. Stone steps, leading down
+to a trap-door. Shall I help you down, or&mdash;no,
+I will go alone. When I open the door, a
+hollow groan will be heard, and the clank of
+iron fetters. Would you rather have me descend
+to Hades with a loud squeak, or shall a headless
+spectre arise, grinning and&mdash;beg pardon! anatomy
+at fault; grinning requires a head. That's
+the way! my genius is always checked in its
+soaring flight, and pulled back to earth by idiot
+facts."</p>
+
+<p>Running on thus, Gerald descended the stone
+steps, Margaret following to their top, timidly.
+Sure enough, there was a trap-door at the
+bottom, with a ring in it; a perfectly orthodox
+trap-door, suitable for the Arabian Nights or
+anything else. Gerald took hold of the ring,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
+prepared for a vigorous pull; then paused, and
+looked at his companion. "I hear voices!" he
+said. "Hark!"</p>
+
+<p>They listened. A low murmur came up from
+below; the voices were muffled, by distance
+or intervening substances, and could not be
+distinguished.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do you think we'd better open it?"
+said Margaret, who had such a wholesome awe
+of the Mysteries of Fernley that she was
+prepared for anything in the way of the
+marvellous.</p>
+
+<p>"That is what I think!" said Gerald, cheerfully.
+"That's what it was made for, you see.
+A door that does not fulfil its destiny might just
+as well be something else, skittles, or a pump,
+or&mdash;other things. Now this&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, he gave a vigorous pull; the
+door lifted, but at the same instant the candle
+slipped from his hand, and fell rattling into
+some unseen depth below, leaving them in
+blank darkness. Margaret uttered a cry of
+alarm. "Don't fall! Oh, pray be careful,
+Mr. Merryweather!"</p>
+
+<p>"All right!" said Gerald. "Stay just where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
+you are, for a moment, while I explore this&mdash;aperture.
+Ha! the steps continue. You don't
+mind if I leave you in the dark for just a
+minute, Miss Montfort?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret did not mind, once assured that her
+companion was not engaged in the congenial
+pursuit of breaking his neck. She began feeling
+about her in the darkness, darkness so
+thick it was like black velvet, she said to
+herself. She found the wall; it was warm,
+as she said; she began passing her hand mechanically
+along the bricks, counting them.</p>
+
+<p>A cheerful voice came up from below: "I
+have found the doughnuts&mdash;good ones!&mdash;and
+the&mdash;seem to be&mdash;yes! sweet pickles. Corking!
+And&mdash;now you've done it, my son! Jam,
+by all that's adhesive! Put my whole hand in.
+Jerusalem and Mad&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>At this instant there was a sound as of a door
+thrown violently open; a flood of light filled
+the place; light, and an angry voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Who's this here in my pantry? Come out
+of that, ye rascal, before I set the dogs on
+ye!"</p>
+
+<p>Gerald Merryweather uttered a yell of delight.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
+"Destiny!" he shouted. "My fate
+cries out. Quits, Mrs. Cook, quits! Come to
+my arms!"</p>
+
+<p>And Margaret, peeping fearfully down
+through the trap-door, beheld her guest waving
+one hand, a crimson one, in the air, and
+with the other embracing the ample form of
+Frances the cook; while behind them the grave
+Elizabeth looked wide-eyed, shading her candle
+with her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"For shame, sir!" said Frances. "Do behave,
+now, Mr. Gerald! I never see such a bold boy
+since born I was."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no! not bold; don't say bold, Mrs.
+Cook! Witness my blushing eyes, my tearful
+cheek, my stammering nose! Hush, listen,
+there's a good soul. Your doughnuts are food
+for the gods; also for Jerry. Poor Jerry; never
+had enough doughnuts in his life. You weep
+for him; let him dry the starting tear!"</p>
+
+<p>Drawing out his pocket-handkerchief, he
+gravely applied it to Frances's eyes and went
+on. "We are looking for the Lost Casket,
+Miss Montfort and I. If you can help us to it,
+Mrs. Cook,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"I'll dress thee all in pongo silk,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And crown thee with a bowl of milk;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And hail thee, till my last breath passes,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The queen of sugar and molasses.</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='unindent'>A poet, as you observe. Nothing to what I
+can do, give me time and a yard measure. Now
+tell me&mdash;"</div>
+
+<p>Margaret's voice from above interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Merryweather, there is a loose brick
+here. I can pull it quite out; and&mdash;yes&mdash;there
+is a space behind it, and&mdash;oh, can you
+bring the light?"</p>
+
+<p>To snatch the lamp from Frances's hand, blow
+her a kiss, and scramble up the steps again, was
+the work of an instant with Gerald. He found
+Margaret pale, with shining eyes, holding something
+in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"No!" cried Gerald. "I say, you haven't&mdash;you
+have! eccentric Jiminy, you have found
+it!"</p>
+
+<p>"I think I have!" said Margaret, who was
+fairly trembling with excitement. "Look! the
+letters on the lid! oh, Mr. Merryweather!"</p>
+
+<p>The object she held was a box some eight
+inches square, of ebony or some other dark<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>
+wood, banded with silver. On the lid were inlaid,
+also in silver, the letters C. M.</p>
+
+<p>"Christina Montfort!" said Margaret. "Oh,
+to think of my being the one to find it!"</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to know who else had the right
+to find it!" said Gerald. "Punch their&mdash;I
+mean, of course, if they were fellows; I beg
+your pardon, Miss Montfort."</p>
+
+<p>"It is locked," said Margaret. "We must
+wait, and try some of Uncle John's keys."</p>
+
+<p>"Take care!" exclaimed Gerald. "The bottom
+is dropping out. Hold your hand under it!"</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, the bottom of the box, which
+was of some soft wood and had rotted through,
+dropped, and something rolled out and fell into
+Margaret's hand. She held it up to the light.
+It was a hawk's egg, neatly blown.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE EGG OF COLUMBUS</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Why, yes!" said Mr. Montfort. "It is my
+egg, certainly."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Uncle John!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir, then&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Then you know all the&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Was it&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell am what&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort put his hands resolutely over
+his ears, and shut his eyes. "When you are
+still," he said, "I will tell you all about it; till
+then I am a blind deaf-mute, with no benefit of
+modern instruction."</p>
+
+<p>A swift rustle, followed by dead silence.
+Cautiously opening his eyes, Mr. Montfort saw
+the whole company seated on the floor around his
+chair, gazing at him with imploring eyes, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
+motionless and mute. He laughed heartily, and
+threw himself back in his chair.</p>
+
+<p>"I promised you a merry game," he said.
+"Have you had it?"</p>
+
+<p>The young people nodded like mandarins,
+but uttered no sound.</p>
+
+<p>"I promised you nothing more. In fact, I
+warned you not to expect anything more. On
+your own heads be egg and emptiness.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well!" he added, "since you are so
+good and dutiful, you shall have the whole
+truth. I found the box some forty years ago,
+when I first stumbled on that closet. My dear
+mother was timid, and had a great dread of the
+Mysteries of Fernley, imagining a secret staircase
+in every wall, and an oubliette under every
+floor. Somebody had frightened her when she
+came here as a child, by showing her I forget
+what dark passage or closet. So we were
+never officially told of the various pleasant
+places devised by the eccentric old ancestor,
+Peter, who, I have always believed, was a
+smuggler before he was a patriot, and hid kegs
+as well as commanders in his smoke-closet. You
+know the story of General Blankley and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
+hams, Hugh? Remind me to tell you some
+day. Well, this being so, of course we youngsters
+were keen set on discovery; and we
+formed a league, called the Hovering Hawks.
+Each of us had his private totem or sign; and
+when he made a discovery, he left a totem to
+tell that he had been there. Jim's was an
+oyster-shell, because he considered the world his
+oyster; Dick's was a ship, because he always
+meant to be a sailor; Roger's was a book, of
+course, for obvious reasons; and mine was an
+egg, Columbus's egg, because I meant to find
+things out. You see there was no overstock of
+modesty among us, more than there is among
+most healthy boys. We were ready for anything
+and everything. I dare say some of you
+may have found oyster-shells about, in various
+inaccessible places?"</p>
+
+<p>Grace started, and blushed; then hung her
+head. "I&mdash;I found one," she admitted. "It
+was in a cubbyhole in the parapet of the roof.
+I thought of bringing it away, but it seemed as
+if some one had wanted to leave it there, so I
+didn't touch it."</p>
+
+<p>"Jim's Retreat," said Mr. Montfort. "He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>
+stayed up there two days once, in a fit of sulks,
+and frightened my poor dear mother almost into
+an illness. Father Montfort was away from
+home the first day; the second day he came
+home, and went up after Master James. He was
+a powerful man, Father Montfort, and an excellent
+climber. Yes, poor old Jim! he did not
+climb again for several days. Well, as I was
+saying, after all this very egotistical digression,
+I found the box in question some forty years
+ago. I withdrew the&mdash;a&mdash;contents&mdash;and
+substituted for them my totem. The contents
+I put&mdash;elsewhere."</p>
+
+<p>He looked round the circle, smiling. Margaret,
+gazing earnestly at him, saw his face, for
+the second time since she had known him,
+change from that of a grave, thoughtful man
+into that of a mischievous boy, the eager eyes
+alight with fun, the lips twitching with laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't&mdash;you&mdash;like&mdash;to&mdash;know?" he
+began slowly, his eyes turning from one to the
+other. Suddenly he broke off.</p>
+
+<p>"There! the play is over, children. Margaret,
+you found the casket, you shall find the&mdash;run<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>
+your hand along the back of my chair
+here, my dear; where it feels cold, press downward."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret obeyed. A long narrow box or
+drawer shot out from the rolling back of the
+great mahogany chair. Obeying Mr. Montfort's
+gesture, Margaret lifted out of the nest of silky
+cotton something that sparkled and glittered in
+the firelight. There was a long-drawn sigh
+from the girls, a grunt of surprise from the
+men, but still no one spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"The pearls are for you, Margaret. I always
+meant them for you, my dear. I have taken
+them out every birthday and Christmas and
+looked at them, but there was always something
+else I wanted to give you just then, so I put
+the pretty playthings back again. Peggy, these
+pink topazes were made expressly for you, even
+if they have been waiting some time. No earrings,
+thank heaven! I could not see my girls
+in earrings. The diamonds I sent to Rita as
+a wedding present; you remember them, Margaret.
+Deceitful, was I, not to tell you their history?
+My child, I said they were family jewels,
+and so they were. The turquoises must be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
+Jean's; put them on at once, little girl! Very
+pretty; very becoming. Now,&mdash;any more? It
+seems to me I remember one more article&mdash;ah!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret drew out a long, delicate, glittering
+chain. At sight of it, Grace uttered a low cry
+of delight. "What is it?" she said. "I never
+saw anything so beautiful. Water and moonlight?
+What are the stones, Mr. Montfort,
+please?"</p>
+
+<p>"Aquamarine," said Mr. Montfort. "They
+are beautiful, though not of great value. Now
+what shall I do with this last trinket, I
+wonder?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is only one person who can possibly
+wear it," said Hugh, under his breath. His
+uncle heard him, and shot a keen, quizzical
+glance at him, which caused the philosopher
+to retire suddenly behind the shadow of the
+curtain. Margaret glided to her uncle's side,
+and whispered in his ear. Mr. Montfort
+nodded, smiling. "Just what I was thinking,
+Margaret," he said. "You read my thoughts
+accurately. My dear Miss Grace&mdash;by the way,
+isn't it time for me to leave off the 'Miss,' considering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>
+my age, and how well we know each
+other? 'Miss Grace' suggests 'disgrace,' which
+can have no possible connection with you. My
+dear Grace, then, as Margaret and others have
+said, there is only one person present who ought
+to wear this chain, and that person is yourself.
+Will you accept it as a little gift from Margaret
+and me, and from Cousin Christina?"</p>
+
+<p>Grace drew back, her eyebrows coming together
+in a look Peggy knew well. "I&mdash;You
+must excuse me," she began; but Mr. Montfort,
+going to her, took her hand kindly: "My
+child, do not refuse me this little pleasure.
+You surely do not expect me to wear the chain
+myself? and Margaret has more trumpery than
+is good for her already. Besides, as I said, the
+thing was manifestly made for you, and for you
+alone. And, besides, again, Grace,"&mdash;he drew
+her nearer, and spoke low,&mdash;"besides, again,
+you are an explorer, too; if you had lived
+twenty-five years ago, we should have had great
+excursions together. Take it, my dear, if for
+no other reason, because it is the gift of the
+boy who put the egg in the box!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN THE TWILIGHT</h3>
+
+
+<p>"How strange it seems without the boys!"
+said Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"And Uncle John!" said Margaret.</p>
+
+<p>"And Hugh!" said Peggy. "I wish they
+hadn't gone."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, you don't, Peggy!" said Margaret.
+"It was such a great chance, to have the day
+on that wonderful yacht. Just think what a
+good time they are having! I only wish you
+could have gone too, but it is a bachelor party,
+you see."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course! Oh, I want them to have the
+fun, and it was very good of Captain Storm to
+let Uncle John take them all. Yes, they will
+have a glorious time; only&mdash;well, we miss
+them so horribly. Dear me, Margaret, isn't it
+strange that you should get to know people so
+well in such a short time? Why, I seem to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
+know Gerald and Phil as well&mdash;better, in some
+ways, than I know Hugh. But then, I never
+feel as if I understood Hugh, he is so&mdash;he
+knows so much. Margaret, dear, it makes me
+happy all through to have you and Hugh know
+each other, and be such friends."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, it cannot make you so happy as it
+does me, Peggy," said Margaret, smiling. "He
+is a wonderful person, that brother of yours.
+Yes, he does know a most amazing amount, but
+he never makes one uncomfortable with his
+knowledge, as some clever people do. He is
+like a delightful book, that you can read when
+you want to, and when you don't it stays quiet
+on its shelf. When I want to know about anything,
+and Uncle John is somewhere else, or is
+busy, I just turn over a page of Hugh, and
+there I have it. Oh, by the bye, Grace, what
+was that stanza he was quoting to you this
+morning, just before he went away? Don't
+you remember? we were coming through the
+orchard, he and I, and we met you, and he said
+this. I have been trying all day to recall it."</p>
+
+<p>"Keats!" said Grace, briefly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know that; it was from 'La Belle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
+Dame sans Merci,' but I cannot get the whole
+stanza. Won't you repeat it? I know you
+have almost the whole of Keats by heart."</p>
+
+<p>Grace hesitated, and murmured something
+about "a time for everything," but finally, half-reluctantly,
+she repeated the stanza:</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"'I met a lady in the meads,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Full beautiful, a fairy's child;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Her hair was long, her foot was light,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">And her eyes were wild.'"</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Margaret. "Well&mdash;thank you,
+Grace! I just wanted to hear it in your voice;
+what I was thinking of was, that Hugh always
+knows just what to say about everything and
+everybody. He has the whole Golden Treasury
+in his head, and he always turns the right page.
+Do you remember the other day, when Michael
+was so stupid!"</p>
+
+<p>"Michael is always stupid!" said Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Michael! He is not very clever."
+(Michael was the stable-boy at Fernley, a new
+importation from Ireland, with a good deal of
+peat-bog still sticking to his brains.) "Well,
+the other day he was more stupid than usual,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
+for he was sent in town to get some rolled oats
+that Frances wanted. Well, he brought back
+just plain oats; and when Frances wanted to
+know what he meant by that, he said, 'Sure,
+it's meself can rowl 'em about for yez, as well
+as that feller in the white jacket.' Frances
+explained the situation to him with more force
+than amiability. She was in a perfect storm,
+and poor Michael stood meekly, feeling of his
+ear as if she had actually boxed it, though really
+she only threatened to, and wondering what it
+was all about. Well, Hugh and I came along,
+and Hugh just looked at him, and said:</p>
+
+<div class='poem'>
+"'The ass upon the pivot of his skull<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Turned round a long left ear!'</span><br />
+</div>
+
+<div class='unindent'>There is no other quotation in the English
+language that would have fitted the case so
+perfectly."</div>
+
+<p>"You and Grace seem to know Hugh about a
+hundred times as well as Peggy and I do," said
+Jean, pouting a little.</p>
+
+<p>"Because they are clever, my dear, and we
+are not," said Peggy, cheerfully. "If you would
+learn things, Jean, English literature and all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
+that, you might be able to talk to Hugh. As
+it is&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I think Phil and Gerald are ever so
+much more fun, anyhow!" said Jean, saucily.
+"Hugh is poky!"</p>
+
+<p>Seeing an elder-sisterly cloud gathering on
+Peggy's brow, Margaret hastened to interfere.
+"Girls," she said, "I have a confession to make.
+I was just going to make it, when the quotations
+turned me off the track. You know what
+Peggy was saying, about our all getting to know
+each other so well from staying in the house
+together. That reminded me of something,
+something I am very much ashamed of; and
+I think it would be good for my soul to confess
+it. But you must promise never to tell."</p>
+
+<p>"We promise! We promise!" cried all the
+girls.</p>
+
+<p>"Margaret," said Grace, "I have been looking
+for your sins ever since I came, but you
+were too clever for me; now I shall learn."</p>
+
+<p>"Not my fault," said Margaret, merrily, "if
+you are a bat as well as a dozen other animals,
+my dear. Well, girls&mdash;oh, I am ashamed, and
+it really is most astonishingly virtuous of me to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>
+tell you about it. Peggy, just before you came,
+I was very blue; deeply, darkly, most unbeautifully
+blue!"</p>
+
+<p>"Margaret! you, blue?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hear Peggy making rhymes! Yes, I, blue.
+You see, the children were gone, and I did miss
+them so, I hardly knew how to bear it. It is
+impossible for any one to have any idea, girls,
+how children, children that are little enough to
+need one's care, you know, and&mdash;and watching,
+and thinking about, and all&mdash;how they get
+inside your heart and just live there, all curled
+up in it, bless them! and these particular children
+are the very dearest ones that ever lived, I
+do believe. Well, so they were gone, and my
+heart seemed empty; wickedly and abominably
+empty, for there was my own dearest uncle, and
+there were you, my own Peggy, coming to spend
+the whole summer with me, and as if that were
+not joy enough for three people, let alone one,
+I made all kinds of plans, about studying, and
+teaching you housekeeping, and embroidery, and
+all kinds of things. We were going to read
+so many hours a day, and work so many hours,&mdash;my
+poor Peggy! you would have had an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>
+unmerciful kind of time!&mdash;and everything was
+going to be quiet and regular and cheerful; I
+never got beyond cheerfulness in my brightest
+dreams of the summer. But even the cheerfulness
+was far ahead, and just then&mdash;before you
+came&mdash;I really had difficulty sometimes in
+keeping a cheerful face for Uncle John when
+he came in. Why&mdash;must I tell the whole?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Margaret, every word!"</p>
+
+<p>"I used to go up to Susan D.'s room and cry
+over her little pinafores and things. As for my
+pincushion, I fairly soaked it with tears when
+I first found it. I told you about the pincushion,
+didn't I? Why, that little lamb, for
+days before she went, was working away at
+something, she would not let me see what.
+After she was gone, I went up to my room
+for a quiet cry, and there was a gorgeous new
+pincushion, and 'I love you,' on it in pins. My
+dear little girl! Well, girls, so&mdash;that was the
+way I felt, and the way I acted, most absurdly;
+and then&mdash;all this happened. First Hugh
+dropped from the skies; and then Uncle proposed
+the house party, and you came, Jean,
+and the Merryweathers; and then you, Peggy;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>
+and we discovered our dear Grace; and so,
+instead of a quiet, rather humdrum summer,
+I am having the most enchanting, Arabian-nights
+kind of time that ever was. And how
+do you think I feel?"</p>
+
+<p>"Phil would say 'like thirty cents!'" said
+Jean, who was certainly a little inclined to be
+pert.</p>
+
+<p>"If I hear you say anything of the kind,
+young one, I'll swat&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Peggy, dearest!" murmured Margaret,
+softly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll speak to you very severely. I am
+ashamed of you, Kidderminster!"</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Peggy, I won't stand that!"
+said Jean. "You promised me, when I first
+came, that you wouldn't call me that."</p>
+
+<p>"Then don't behave like a kid!" retorted
+Peggy. "There, that's enough. Yes, Margaret,
+it has all been perfectly delightful and fairy-like;
+and then the Mysteries, too, and the
+hunting, and the Silver Closet, and all. Oh,
+I am so glad we didn't find out everything that
+first summer. I suppose Uncle John thought
+we were too young and silly then; not that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>
+you were ever silly, you dear darling thing.
+But, Margaret, there is one thing wanting to
+it all, and only you and I know what that is."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret nodded. "Yes," she said, with
+a little sigh. "We want our Princess, Peggy.
+Oh, Grace, if you only knew our Rita! How
+you and she would love each other! Peggy,
+you said that just at the right moment, for
+I have her last letter in my pocket, on purpose
+to read to you, and I am sure the others would
+like to hear it, too. Would you, girls?"</p>
+
+<p>There seemed no possible doubt on the subject.
+All the girls gathered about Margaret,
+sitting on the floor, as they liked best to do.
+Margaret herself took possession of her favorite
+low chair, and drawing the letter from her
+pocket, began to read:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Beloved Marguerite</span>:&mdash;I am of return only yesterday
+from an expedition to the hills, and I find your
+precious letter waiting for me. No need to tell you
+that I pressed it to my heart, covered it with kisses.
+Jack says your letters are the sole thing of which he is
+jealous. I grieve to hear that you must lose those little
+ones whom you love so well, even for a short time; but
+courage, <i>Margarita mia;</i> there are other flowers besides
+roses, and summer is a pleasant time. You will have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>
+Peggy with you, dear Peggy! She sends me a photograph,
+which shows her little changed in the face; still
+the dimples, still the soft roundness of cheek and chin.
+Best of Peggys; if I had her here, what great joy!
+But I must tell you of our ride. We went, Jack and
+I, up to the hill camp, where we went last year, after
+the terrible ride you know of. There we spent three
+happy days, camping in the green hollow among the
+hills, with only Juan to cook for us and care for
+the horses. Ah, Marguerite, what a time was that!
+We visited every spot made sacred to us by our love.
+The hiding-place, near poor Don Annunzio's house,
+where I first saw my hero, swinging in his hammock.
+Have I told you that I thought him a skulker, a coward
+hiding to escape warfare? How often we have laughed
+over that! Then we passed along the road, so peaceful
+now, so wild and horrent then (how is this word, 'horrent,'
+Marguerite? I find it in a poem, it seems to me
+noble; I tell Jack, he laughs, and says something like
+'high falu&mdash;' I cannot tell what!). We paused to weep
+over the gray heap where once smiled the <i>residencia</i>,
+where that kind old woman and her good vast husband
+sheltered the wandering maiden, protected her at the
+risk of their own lives, and&mdash;one of them, as you know&mdash;died
+to save her and others. Then farther, to Carlos's
+old camp, where Manuela and I lived, and where I first
+learned to be of a little use in the world. Ah, the memories,
+how they came crowding back! I have told you
+that Manuela is married to Pepe? Yes; two months
+ago. The wedding was charming! I gave her her
+wedding-gown, of finest muslin, suitable to her condition,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>
+with plenty of lace and ribbons, which the poor
+child values highly, and I dressed her hair (poor Manuela!
+She would have done it far better herself; she
+has a wonderful gift. My present maid is a poor creature,
+but Manuela is to give her lessons), and arranged
+the veil and wreath. She was a vision of enchantment,
+and really thrown away on poor Pepe, who never looked
+at either dress or veil. Jack says 'neither did he.'
+My dear, these men! To what purpose do we adorn
+ourselves, exhaust the treasure of our souls, in efforts to
+please them? But I wander from my story. My child,
+this expedition, carrying back heart as well as body to
+the scenes of before our marriage, has told me over again
+the story of my happiness. Marguerite, how to deserve
+it, this wonderful bliss? I study, I try, the dear Saint
+teaches me always many things&mdash;in vain! I am debtor
+to the whole world, and how much more to the gracious
+Power above worlds! But enough of this, my Pearl!
+Your time will come; till then you know nothing of it.
+I pant for your awakening, I burn, Marguerite, but I am
+powerless. If I had you here, there is a friend of ours,
+a paladin, a Roland, second only to my Jack&mdash;no! This
+makes you laugh, I feel it, I see your cool, pearly smile.
+I am angry with you for laughing, yet I laugh, too. So!
+now of other things. I think of you always; Jack also;
+I have told him so much, he assassinates himself with
+desire to see you all. The time will come! Marguerite&mdash;no
+matter! One word only! Our beloved Uncle's
+birthday; I remember the day, the Fourteenth. You
+will honor it, I know, as such a day should be honored,
+the day which blessed the earth with the best man&mdash;except<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>
+one&mdash;that breathes mortal breath. Marguerite,
+if on that day a trifle should come from the far-away
+cousins, you will receive it kindly? Ah, how well I
+know the answer! Bless you, my treasure! I must
+go to my housekeeping. Dear Donito Miguelito is staying
+with us now; you can fancy the joy of tending this
+saintly old man in his feebleness. I prepare myself the
+little dishes that please him; it is a sacred task; it is
+like feeding a holy butterfly.</p>
+
+<div class='sig'>
+<span style="margin-right: 6em;">"Adios, my Marguerite!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-right: 2em;">"Ever and ever your devoted</span><br />
+"<span class="smcap">Rita</span>.<br />
+</div>
+
+<p>"You ask of Concepcion. She is married to Diego
+Moreno, and, as I hear, is very unhappy. Poor woman,
+I compassionate her!"</p></div>
+
+<p>After the reading of the letter, Grace slipped
+away to return to her patient, and the three
+cousins sat together, talking in low tones of Rita,
+and of Grace herself. Jean maintained stoutly
+that Rita could not be so fascinating as Grace.
+Peggy and Margaret insisted that, though
+totally different in quality, neither could outdo
+the other in amount of charm.</p>
+
+<p>"They are both the kind of girls you would
+do anything for!" said Peggy; "just anything
+in the world, no matter how foolish, just because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>
+they wanted you to. It isn't a thing you can
+describe; it just <i>is</i>, and nobody can help it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I should think the difference would
+be in the kind of thing they would ask you to
+do," said Jean, with wisdom beyond her years.
+"Grace wouldn't ask you anything foolish, and
+I should think Cousin Rita might."</p>
+
+<p>"Grace!" exclaimed Peggy; and then
+checked herself loyally. "Grace wasn't always
+so wise as she is now, young one!" she said,
+simply.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, she's a dear, anyhow; I think Mrs.
+Peyton might have let her stay all night. It's
+horribly poky, with Uncle John and the boys
+and everybody away. Why, Margaret, there
+isn't a single man about the place, is there?
+Bannan drove them over, and then he was going
+to the cattle-show, and so was Michael. Suppose
+there should be robbers, or anything!"</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose there should!" said Peggy, coolly.
+"If Frances and I and the dogs could not
+arrange matters with a robber, it would be a
+pity. Margaret&mdash;what is this queer light?
+Has everything turned red, all of a sudden?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
+<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/gs07.png" width="400" height="249" alt="&quot;A TALL, SLENDER FIGURE HALF RAN, HALF TOTTERED INTO THE ROOM.&quot;" title="&quot;A TALL, SLENDER FIGURE HALF RAN, HALF TOTTERED INTO THE ROOM.&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;A TALL, SLENDER FIGURE HALF RAN, HALF TOTTERED INTO THE ROOM.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"The moon rises late to-night," said Margaret.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>"I have no idea what time it is now.
+It seems an hour since Grace went."</p>
+
+<p>"The moon isn't red, anyhow!" said Peggy.
+"I believe&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke, she rose and went to the
+window. "Girls!" she cried. "There is a fire
+somewhere near. Come and look!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret and Jean pressed hastily forward to
+the window. It was a strange scene on which
+they looked. All of a sudden, the world seemed
+turned to red and black. A crimson light suffused
+the sky; against it the trees stood black
+as ebony. Even as they looked, a crest of flame
+sprang up above the tree-tops, wavered, and
+broke into a shower of sparks; at the same instant
+their nostrils were filled with the acrid,
+pungent smell of wood smoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what is it? Where can it be?" cried
+Margaret.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe it's only a bonfire!" said Jean.</p>
+
+<p>Peggy shook her head. "Too big for a bonfire!"
+she said. "I'll go out and see, Margaret.
+What a pity the boys should miss it! I'll come
+back and let you know&mdash;mercy! what's this?"</p>
+
+<p>The door opened, and a tall, slender figure<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>
+half ran, half tottered into the room. "Margaret!"
+cried a wild voice of terror. "Margaret
+Montfort, save me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good heavens! Mrs. Peyton!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Emily Peyton. My house is burning.
+I ran all the way here. I&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret and Peggy caught her as she fell
+forward, and laid her on the sofa, and while
+Jean ran for water and Elizabeth, chafed her
+hands and her temples, looking the while
+anxiously at each other.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you tell us what happened?" asked
+Margaret, trying to keep her voice quiet and
+even, for Mrs. Peyton was in the wildest agitation.
+"You escaped, thank Heaven! but&mdash;is
+the fire serious? Who is there now? Where is
+Grace Wolfe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't leave me!" said the sick woman, with
+a ghastly look. "Margaret, if you leave me I
+shall die. She&mdash;she went back for the jewels.
+She is in the house now."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE FIRE</h3>
+
+
+<p>The three girls reached the door in the same
+instant, but Mrs. Peyton followed, and still held
+Margaret's arm in a desperate clutch.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't leave me!" she repeated. "Margaret,
+don't leave me to die!"</p>
+
+<p>But Margaret put the clinging hands away.
+"You are not going to die," she said. "You
+are going to sit down in this chair, Mrs. Peyton,
+and be quiet till I come back. See, here
+is Elizabeth, with water and cologne, and everything
+comfortable. By and by you shall go
+up-stairs, but rest here now; nothing can happen
+to you, and I will come back as soon as I can."</p>
+
+<p>Wondering at her own hardihood, Margaret
+ran out, shunning the wild pleading of the beautiful
+eyes which she knew were bent upon her.
+Jean was waiting for her on the step, but Peggy
+had disappeared.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"She said we were to go on," said Jean,
+"and she would catch us up. Which way,
+Margaret? I don't know the way."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret led the way through the garden,
+running as she had never run before. They
+had not gone a hundred yards when Peggy was
+at their side. She had a coil of rope slung
+over her arm.</p>
+
+<p>"It may be wanted," she said. "I remembered
+where it always hung. Oh, if the boys
+were only here!"</p>
+
+<p>They ran on in silence, Margaret echoing the
+cry in her heart. At every step the glare grew
+brighter, the rolling smoke thicker. Margaret
+noticed, and wondered at herself for noticing,
+that the under side of some of the leaves above
+her head shone red like copper, while others
+were yellow as gold. Every patch of fern and
+brake, every leaf of box or holly, stood out, clear
+as at noonday.</p>
+
+<p>On, down the long cedar alley, the dew dripping
+from the branches as they closed behind
+them; over the sunk fence, and across the
+lower garden to the summer-house, Hugh's
+summer-house. Once Margaret would have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
+shuddered at the drop into the meadow below,
+but Grace's climbing lessons had not been given
+in vain, and, without a moment's hesitation, she
+followed Peggy down the old willow-tree, landing
+knee-deep in fern below.</p>
+
+<p>Now they could hear the roar of the flames,
+the crackling and snapping of burning wood,
+and, looking up, they saw on the brow of the
+rise beyond, the flames tossing and beckoning
+over the dark firs of Silverfield.</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes more, and, breathless with
+running, they stood on the lawn before the
+burning house.</p>
+
+<p>The side facing them was already wrapped in
+flames. Long wavering tongues shot through
+the open windows, and curled round the woodwork,
+lapping it; they purred and chuckled like
+live creatures over their food; they leaped up
+toward the roof, running along its edge, feeling
+their way higher and higher, while now and
+then one sprang aloft, tossing its scarlet crest
+over the rooftree itself. Evidently the fire had
+started in the upper story, for in the lower one,
+though the smoke poured dense and black
+through the open windows, there were no flames<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
+to be seen yet. Furniture, books, and knick-knacks
+of every description were scattered about
+the lawn in wild confusion, and two men, half
+stifled with smoke, were struggling frantically
+with a grand piano, one hacking at the window-frame
+with an axe to widen the opening, the
+other trying desperately to unscrew the legs, as
+if that would mend matters. Seven people out
+of ten, at a fire, will leave untouched pictures
+and books that can never be replaced, and spend
+their time and energies in trying to save the
+piano.</p>
+
+<p>The group of frightened women huddled together
+on the lawn had made their attempt, too,
+to save some of their mistress's property. Even
+in her terror and anguish, Margaret could hardly
+keep back the thought of a smile at their aspect.
+One clasped a sofa-pillow, one a pair of
+vases. A stout woman, evidently the cook, had
+a porcelain kettle on either arm, and another on
+her head, while her hands clutched a variety of
+spoons, ladles, cups, and dippers. She evidently
+had her wits about her more than the others,
+and she was scolding the parlor-maid, a trembling,
+weeping creature, who was holding a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
+small china bowl in both hands, as if it were
+a royal treasure.</p>
+
+<p>"She likes her malted milk in it, you know
+she does, Mary," said the girl. "Only yesterday
+she was telling me never bring her any
+bowl except this. It's cruel of you to harry me
+for trying to save what she likes."</p>
+
+<p>"You green goose! What will she want wid
+the bowl and you not leaving her a spoon to
+sup wid! Where is the key of the safe, I'm
+askin' ye! Maybe James could get it out
+yet."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know! I don't know! I expect
+I dropped it. I was going to get the silver
+myself; I'd ha' got all of it, without you telling
+me, but when I opened the pantry door, the
+fire leapt out at me, roaring like the pit, and I
+dropped the key and run. I'm awful sorry, but
+I've got the bowl, and I do wish you'd let me
+be."</p>
+
+<p>A little apart stood Antonia, the French maid,
+bearing on her outstretched arms a superb tea-gown
+of violet velvet, embroidered with pearls.
+On it lay a pile of costly laces, slightly blackened
+by smoke, but uninjured. Antonia had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
+done her best, and had saved the treasure of
+her heart. Margaret ran up to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Antonia, where is Miss Wolfe?"</p>
+
+<p>The woman did not seem to hear the question,
+but burst into agitated speech. "Oh, mademoiselle,
+mademoiselle!" she cried. "Ah, the
+tragedy! of all the robes arrived from Paris
+last week, but only last week, this only remaining!
+It was all I could save, all! I tried;
+I burned myself the hands, mademoiselle, to
+rescue the others, the blue crape, the adorable
+lace <i>jacquettes</i>, the <i>satin rose-th&egrave;</i>&mdash;in vain,
+all gone, all devoured! <i>Mon Dieu</i>, and madame
+had not even had them on! But the lace,
+Mademoiselle Montfort, the point d'Alen&ccedil;on, the
+Valenciennes, all, I have it safe. See, mademoiselle,
+regard for yourself, <i>un peu noirci</i>, a leetle
+blackened, <i>voil&agrave; tout!</i> It is without price, the
+point d'Alen&ccedil;on, you know, Mademoiselle Marguerite."</p>
+
+<p>"Antonia, do you hear me? What do I care
+about the laces? Where is Miss Wolfe?"</p>
+
+<p>"She's mazed, miss!" said Mary, the cook.
+"She can't talk about nothin' but that stuff.
+Sure Miss Wolfe is at Fernley wid the mistress.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
+It's wondher ye didn't meet them on the
+way, miss. She went wid Mrs. Peyton, and me
+and the other girls stopped behind to see what
+we could save."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no!" cried Margaret. "Mrs. Peyton
+came alone. She said Miss Wolfe came back&mdash;for
+the jewels. She said she was in the house
+now."</p>
+
+<p>"Lord help her then!" said the parlor-maid.
+"If she's in the house now, she's as good as
+dead, and worse, too. The stairs has fallen in;
+Thomas seen 'em fall. Oh, dear! oh, dear! what
+an awful time!"</p>
+
+<p>"Be still, Eliza!" said the cook. "Where's
+Jenny? She was in the sewing-room, next to
+Miss Wolfe's; maybe she'd know something.
+Who saw Jenny since we come out? Good
+Lord, where is the child? I thought she come
+with me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Jenny's all right!" moaned Eliza.
+"She'll have gone straight home. She was
+going home to spend the night anyway, Mary;
+don't be scaring us worse. It's bad enough to
+lose Miss Wolfe, poor young lady, and she so
+bold and daring!"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Hold your tongue!</i>" said Peggy. "Listen
+to me, girls, and answer plainly, and not all at
+once like a flock of foolish sheep. Did any one
+see Miss Wolfe go into the house?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, miss, no; we see her go with Mrs.
+Peyton, and we never thought but she was all
+right."</p>
+
+<p>"She may not be there after all!" said
+Peggy. "Her room is on the other side, isn't
+it, Margaret? Come on!"</p>
+
+<p>They ran round to the other side of the
+house. This was apparently still untouched,
+though the fiery tongues came darting over the
+rooftree every now and then, hissing and lapping,
+and the roof itself was covered with
+sparks and great patches of burning tinder,
+fragments of the costly stuffs and tissues that
+the house-owner had so dearly prized. The
+windows were closed and silent, but all was
+bright as day in the red glare of the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Call, Peggy!" whispered Margaret. "I
+have no voice."</p>
+
+<p>Even as she spoke, a window in the second
+story was thrown up, and there stood Grace
+herself, very pale, but quiet as usual.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a young woman faint here," she
+said. "Too much smoke. The stairs are gone.
+Is there a ladder, Peggy? Ah, rope! Much
+better. Clever child! When I say three&mdash;throw!"</p>
+
+<p>Oh, the good days on the Western farm, when
+little Peggy, on her rough pony, scampered here
+and there, lassoing the sheep and calves, and
+getting well scolded in consequence! Oh, the
+other good days at school, where nerve and
+muscle learned to follow the quick eye, so that
+thought and action seemed to flash together!</p>
+
+<p>The rope hissed upward like a flying snake,
+but a cloud of smoke drove past the window, and
+the outstretched hands missed it. Again it flew,
+and this time it was caught, drawn up, and
+knotted tight inside the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Now if I had a ladder!" muttered Peggy.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw one," cried Margaret; "I am sure
+I did. Wait!"</p>
+
+<p>She flew off, and returned followed by a
+boy with a ladder. It proved short by several
+feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what shall we do!" cried Margaret.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold the ladder steady!" said Peggy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
+"She'll see to that end, and I can manage
+this. Hold it!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret and the boy grasped the ladder;
+Peggy ran up it, and stood on the top rung,
+holding the lower end of the rope.</p>
+
+<p>"All ready, Goat!" she called.</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, ay!" said the quiet voice within.
+"Coming, Innocent!"</p>
+
+<p>The women had followed Margaret and
+Peggy, and now a cry broke from them.</p>
+
+<p>"She's got her!"</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis Jenny! She was in there all the
+time!"</p>
+
+<p>"She's dead!"</p>
+
+<p>"She's not; she's living, I see her move. Oh,
+Mother of Mercy, they'll both be killed before
+their own eyes!"</p>
+
+<p>What was Grace doing? The form she held
+in her arms was that of a slight girl of fifteen
+or so. She was knotting something round her,
+under arms and over breast; something half
+sling, half rope; towels, perhaps, tied strongly
+together. Now she brought the ends over her
+own shoulders, bending forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Peggy!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Now!"</p>
+
+<p>With the unconscious child bound to her
+back, Grace leaned out and grasped the rope;
+another moment and she was swinging on it,
+clinging with hands and feet, the old school way.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret covered her face with her hand and
+prayed. Peggy, steadying the rope with one
+hand, held out the other, and waited.</p>
+
+<p>Down, hand over hand! Slender hands, to
+bear the double burden. Delicate shoulders,
+to carry the dead weight that hangs on them.
+Are they elastic steel, those fingers that grip
+the rope, never slipping, never relaxing their
+hold?</p>
+
+<p>Down, hand over hand! the hands are bleeding
+now; no matter! the white dress is black
+with smoke, and blood drips on it here and
+there; what of that? it is nearly over.</p>
+
+<p>"Now?" Peggy asked, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"Now!"</p>
+
+<p>Steadying herself, Peggy left the rope, and
+received the burden in her arms. Grace, holding
+the rope with one hand, with the other
+loosed the knot, and laid the limp arms over
+Peggy's neck.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"All right?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"All right!"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Ainsi long!</i>" and as Peggy carefully
+slowly descended the ladder, Grace turned and
+began quickly and steadily to climb the rope
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"Grace! Grace!" cried Margaret. "For
+God's sake, what are you about? Come down!
+There is no time to lose; come down!"</p>
+
+<p>"And behold, all is vanity!" said Grace;
+and she disappeared inside the burning house.</p>
+
+<p>But Margaret could bear no more. She helped
+to take the senseless girl from Peggy's arms
+and lay her on the grass; then the world seemed
+to slip from her, and she dropped quietly with
+her head on Jenny's shoulder.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+
+<h3>JEWELS: AND AN AWAKENING</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Are you better?" said Gerald. "Are you
+truly better, Miss Margaret? I am going to
+drown myself anyhow in the first bucket I find,
+and if you don't feel better I shall make it a
+dipper, and that would be so inconvenient, don't
+you know?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret looked at him, only half hearing
+what he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am better; I am very well, thank
+you. What happened? Did I faint?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes! you fainted, just as we came up.
+They wanted to pour water over you, but I
+always think it's such a shame, in books,
+to spoil their clothes, and you have such
+pretty clothes. So I wouldn't let them. It
+wasn't Peggy, it was a lot of fool cooks and
+things."</p>
+
+<p>"Did something hurt me?" asked Margaret,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>
+vaguely, still feeling that she was somebody
+else making friendly inquiries about herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I&mdash;I pinched you, you dear, sweet,
+pretty&mdash;at least, I don't mean that! at least
+I do mean it, every word, only highly improper
+under the circumstances, but I don't care so
+long as you are better."</p>
+
+<p>Making a strong effort, Margaret sat up and
+looked about her. She was still on the Silverfield
+lawn, but some one had drawn her away
+from the neighborhood of the burning house,
+now a shapeless mass, though still burning
+fiercely, and had pillowed her head on a rolled-up
+coat. Her companion was in his shirt-sleeves,
+so it was evident whose coat it was.</p>
+
+<p>As she gazed at the blazing ruins, memory
+came back in a flood.</p>
+
+<p>"Grace!" she cried, wildly. "Where is
+Grace?"</p>
+
+<p>"Safe," said Gerald, quickly. "Safe and
+sound. Not a hair singed, though it sounds
+impossible. Most astonishing person I ever
+saw in my life. Came down the rope like a
+foretopman, hung all over with jewels:
+brooches, chains, and owches, you know,&mdash;Scripture,&mdash;kind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>
+of rope-walking Tiffany. You
+never saw such a thing in your life. Hadn't
+much more than touched the ground, when the
+roof fell in. Standing luck of the British Army,
+I call that!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, thank God! thank God! but where is
+she? where are they all?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mostly gone to take the fainted girl home.
+She didn't come to just right; choked with the
+smoke, Hugh thought. Phil and Peggy are
+carrying her, and Miss Wolfe giving moral
+support. Hugh has gone for the nearest doctor.
+The fool cooks have gone in search of
+their wits, I suppose; they didn't seem to be
+anywhere round here."</p>
+
+<p>"And&mdash;Jean? she was here too; is she all
+right?"</p>
+
+<p>Gerald hung his head. "She was left to
+take care of you," he said. "I told her I was
+a medical man, which is strictly untrue, and
+asked her to go back to Fernley to get something,
+cologne, or rum, or mustard,&mdash;I forget
+what I did say. The women bothered and
+made a noise, so I advised them to proceed
+in the direction of Jericho. Great place, Jericho!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
+They went&mdash;there or elsewhere. Don't get up
+yet, please don't! it's always better to lie still
+after a fire, or a faint; how much more after
+both combined!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I must!" said Margaret. "I must go
+home at once, Mr. Merryweather, truly. Oh,
+thank you, but I can get up perfectly well&mdash;only
+my head is queer still. I wish&mdash;why did
+you send Jean away?"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't want her," said Gerald, meekly.
+"You looked so pretty&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Please don't talk nonsense!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not. It's my truthful nature. It
+comes out in spots, like measles, in spite of me.
+When I was only six years old, I told my
+nurse she was a hideous old squunt, and she was.
+Fact, or at least justifiable fiction. If you must
+get up, won't you take poor Jerry's arm? just
+once, before he drowns himself? it's your last
+chance!"</p>
+
+<p>"What <i>do</i> you mean? Why should you drown
+yourself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I missed all the fun, and let you
+faint, and Miss Wolfe get nearly burned up, and
+Miss Peggy a sight to behold with smoke and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>
+water, and Hugh all tied up in t l k's, and all
+for a day's yachting. Not that it wasn't great
+yachting, but there is a sense of proportion."</p>
+
+<p>"What are t l k's?" asked Margaret, smiling
+faintly. She was recovering her composure,
+and Gerald noted with inward thankfulness her
+returning color. His running fire of nonsense,
+kept up in the hope of rousing her to interest,
+covered an anxious heart, but he gave no sign.</p>
+
+<p>"T l k's? true lover's knots! none of my
+business, of course, but the professor appears to
+be interested in the fair acrobat&mdash;acrobatess&mdash;acrobatia&mdash;what
+you will! Give you my
+word, when he came round the corner and saw
+her coming down that rope, I thought he would
+curl up into knots himself. Jolly stunt! when
+I first came I was awfully afraid&mdash;" Gerald
+pulled himself up suddenly, and blushed scarlet.</p>
+
+<p>"Afraid?" said Margaret, innocently. "Afraid
+of what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of bats! When they squeak, I desire to pass
+away."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Merryweather!"</p>
+
+<p>"If you call me Mr. Merryweather any more,
+I <i>shall</i> pass away, without benefit of buckets.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>
+Say Gerald! just try it, and see how pretty it
+sounds. Gerald! 'tis a melting mouthful! Sentimental,
+if you will, but what then?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret laughed in spite of herself. "I
+must say, as Frances did, I never see such a
+bold boy since born I was!" she said. "Well,
+Gerald, then; and now, Gerald, here we are at
+the house, and would you please go round the
+north way, and not come into the library just
+now? Thank you ever so much for helping me!
+No, I must go in, I truly must."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Mrs. Peyton was sitting bolt upright on the
+sofa on which they had laid her. Her face was
+absolutely colorless; it might have been an ivory
+statue, but for the ghastly look of the blue eyes.
+She fixed her eyes on Margaret, but said nothing.
+Margaret ran to her, and put her arms
+round her. "Oh, how could they leave you
+alone?" she cried. "She is safe; every one is
+safe, dear Mrs. Peyton. No one hurt, only
+Jenny overcome with the smoke a little. I
+thought Jean would have told you."</p>
+
+<p>The ivory figure began to tremble. With
+shaking hands she tried to put Margaret away<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
+from her; then, with a sudden revulsion of feeling,
+she clung to her and burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>"I sent them away!" she whispered through
+her sobs. "I would not have them look at me.
+Margaret&mdash;are you sure? that girl, is she truly
+safe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Truly and honestly, dear Mrs. Peyton. It
+was a most marvellous escape, but she is absolutely
+unharmed, and she saved another life
+beside her own. But for Grace, poor little
+Jenny must have been lost. She is a heroine,
+our Grace!"</p>
+
+<p>"I did not mean to kill her!" said the poor
+woman. "I did not realize what it meant. I
+said, 'My jewels! my jewels!' and I don't know
+what other nonsense. She never said a word,
+just turned and went back. Then&mdash;oh! then,
+when you were all gone, I understood, I saw,
+that I had sent her to her death for those&mdash;those
+horrible things. Never&mdash;never let me see them
+again! I have been sitting here&mdash;years, it
+seems to me&mdash;waiting to hear that she was
+dead; perhaps to see her body brought in, all&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, hush, hush, Mrs. Peyton! You will
+make yourself ill. You are only distressing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>
+yourself beyond all need. She is safe, I tell
+you. In a few moments you will see for yourself&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the door opened, and Grace
+stood before them. She was a strange figure
+indeed. Black with smoke, her fair hair gray
+with ashes, her dress torn and discolored; but
+sparkling with jewels as never was any ballroom
+belle. Superb necklaces of diamond and emerald
+hung around her neck; her arms glittered
+with bracelets, her fingers were loaded with
+rings, while ropes of amethyst and pearl were
+wound around her head and even about her
+waist.</p>
+
+<p>"All the way over," said Grace, "I have been
+pitying the robber who didn't meet me, and so
+lost the great chance of his life. So sad for
+him!"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret recalled Gerald's expression, "a
+rope-walking Tiffany," and could not help smiling
+in spite of her anxiety; but Mrs. Peyton hid
+her face in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Take them away!" she said. "Take them
+off, Grace! I never want to see them again.
+Horrible things, all blood and flame! who knows<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>
+how many other lives they have cost? and it is
+no fault of mine that they have not cost yours.
+No fault of mine!"</p>
+
+<p>This was so true, that neither Grace nor
+Margaret spoke. Mrs. Peyton rose, and moved
+restlessly about the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Incidentally," she said, "I have got well."</p>
+
+<p>Grace glanced at Margaret, but still neither
+spoke. Mrs. Peyton gave Grace a strange look.
+"You didn't set fire to the house deliberately,
+I suppose?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not!" said Grace, bluntly. "To be
+honest, I have thought of it&mdash;thought, I mean,
+of the effect it might produce; but it isn't a
+thing one does in general society."</p>
+
+<p>"I remember!" said Mrs. Peyton, dreamily.
+"I remember. I did it myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Did it yourself?" cried Margaret, aghast.
+Grace was silent.</p>
+
+<p>"I threw the candle down. I had been looking
+in the glass, and I found a new wrinkle, a
+horrible one. I threw the candle down, and it
+fell on a roll of cotton wool. How it went! I
+can hear the sound now, and see the fire run&mdash;run!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't talk about it any more," said
+Grace, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"I must. I must tell it all. She&mdash;Grace,
+there&mdash;found me; it had caught my bed, and
+the curtains were blazing. She carried me out
+of the room and down the stairs herself. What
+is she made of? She isn't so tall as I. Then&mdash;at
+the door&mdash;she set me down and told me
+to run, and I ran. We ran together, till the
+devil brought these things into my mind, and I
+sent her back to be burned up for my vanity."</p>
+
+<p>"I wasn't burned up," said Grace, composedly;
+"and as you remarked just now, Mrs.
+Peyton, you have got well. Do you want to
+know what I think?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Grace&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I think&mdash;that the game was worth the
+candle!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+
+<h3>FOR AULD LANG SYNE</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Confess that I have surprised you, John
+Montfort!" said Mrs. Peyton.</p>
+
+<p>"I do confess it, Emily," Mr. Montfort answered,
+gravely. "But I am truly glad that my
+house has been able to afford you shelter when
+you were in need of it."</p>
+
+<p>"That is as much as to say, that under other
+circumstances&mdash;never mind! I am not going
+to quarrel with you, John."</p>
+
+<p>"I trust not," said Mr. Montfort, still speaking
+with grave courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>If Margaret had been present, she would have
+wondered at the change in her uncle's face. The
+warmth, the genial light of kindness, was clean
+gone out of it; it was an older and a sterner
+man who sat in the great armchair and looked
+steadily and quietly at his visitor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Peyton smiled, then frowned; at last she
+sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"I never meant to hurt you, John," she said,
+softly. "Thirty years is a long time to hate a
+person who&mdash;who never hated you."</p>
+
+<p>"I have never hated you, Emily," said Mr.
+Montfort, not unkindly. "Our paths have not
+crossed&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Peyton laughed. "No, they have not
+crossed. You took care of that. They have
+only run alongside each other&mdash;with the garden
+wall between."</p>
+
+<p>"And nothing else?" said John Montfort.</p>
+
+<p>She was silent for a moment. Then, "I
+never meant to make trouble between you and
+Rose!"</p>
+
+<p>"You never did," said Mr. Montfort, tranquilly.</p>
+
+<p>"I know! but&mdash;you thought I tried. I did
+tell you a lie that night, when I said she would
+not see you. How could I know that she was
+going to die before you came back from the
+West? I&mdash;I wanted to see you myself; that
+was no such dreadful sin, was it? I was sorry&mdash;sorry,
+I tell you, when I heard of her death.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
+Thirty years ago, and I have never been able
+to speak to you alone till to-day. I&mdash;I had to
+burn my house down to get a chance to make
+my peace with you, John Montfort. No, I don't
+mean that I did it on purpose, though I am not
+sure that it wouldn't&mdash;aren't you going to forgive
+me, John, after all these years?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort rose. He was very pale, but he
+spoke steadily. "Emily, it is hardly strange
+that I do not care to open old wounds. If I
+have been unkind, I am sorry for it. I do forgive
+you, fully and freely. Now, let the past
+alone. What can I do for you in the present,
+and how help you to provide for the future? I
+have not been a good neighbor, I confess it;
+I will try to prove myself a better one henceforward."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Peyton laughed her little mocking laugh.
+"It will be easier than you think, John. I am
+going to Europe, and I don't know whether I
+shall ever come back."</p>
+
+<p>"Going to Europe, Emily? Are you strong
+enough?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am perfectly well!" said Mrs. Peyton,
+simply. "Doctor Flower has been telling me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
+for several years that there was nothing really
+the matter with me any more, and that I could
+be well if I wanted. Grace Wolfe made me
+feel the same thing. Well, now I do want it.
+The fire lighted up a good many things for me,
+and showed me the way. I have no house to
+live in; I am alone in the world; I may as well
+be doing things as staying in bed, of which I
+am really very tired. I am writing to my man
+of business to take places for Antonia and me
+on next week's steamer for Paris. I've half a
+mind to take Grace Wolfe, too, if she will go."</p>
+
+<p>"I have asked Grace to make her home with
+us for the present," said Mr. Montfort, quickly.
+"Next year I expect to take her and Margaret
+abroad together."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Peyton laughed again. "I can't even
+have her! Well&mdash;never mind. I love her,
+but she frightens me. She might have catalepsy
+again,&mdash;though I rather think that was
+a clever device for getting me out of bed,&mdash;and
+I want to forget everything connected with
+sickness. But&mdash;John&mdash;there is something you
+can do for me. This girl risked her life to save
+my jewels, the playthings I have tried to amuse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>
+myself with these many years. I want you to
+sell them for me, and give her the money."</p>
+
+<p>"Sell your jewels, Emily!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I never want to see them again."
+She shuddered slightly, but her voice was firm
+and steady.</p>
+
+<p>"They are all here, in this basket. Lock
+them up now, and the next time you go to
+town sell them, and invest the money for Grace
+Wolfe. Will you do this for me, John? It is
+the only thing I shall ever be likely to ask you."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I will, Emily!" said Mr. Montfort,
+speaking with much more warmth than he had
+hitherto shown. "It will be a grateful commission.
+Shall I look?&mdash;these things are of great
+value, Emily. There are thousands of dollars'
+worth of trump&mdash;of trinkets here."</p>
+
+<p>"So much the better for Grace!"</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing you would like to keep?
+None of these diamonds?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; I detest diamonds! When a complexion
+begins to go&mdash;never mind! Stay, though!
+Margaret liked that pink pearl; sweet little
+prim Margaret, who has given me most of the
+little pleasure I have had these last three years.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>
+You'll let her have it, John? I beg you to let
+me give it to her!"</p>
+
+<p>"Surely, surely, my dear Emily. It is a
+beautiful gem, and I am glad that my Margaret
+should have something to remember you by
+while you are gone. And now shake hands, for
+I must be off."</p>
+
+<p>"You are going away?"</p>
+
+<p>"For the night only. I was to have spent
+two or three days in town on business, but
+hurried home on hearing of the fire. I shall
+be back to-morrow, or next day at latest."</p>
+
+<p>"And&mdash;I may stay here till then, John?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Emily, I earnestly beg that you
+will stay as long as it is convenient to you.
+You must have many things to arrange; pray
+consider Fernley as your own house until you
+have everything comfortably settled."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, John! I heard your own voice
+then, the kindest voice that&mdash;good-by, John
+Montfort!"</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"Gone, you say, Margaret? When did she
+go? I fully expected to see her again."</p>
+
+<p>"This afternoon, Uncle John. We could not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>
+persuade her to stay longer. Her man of business
+came down this morning early, and arranged
+everything with the farmer and the servants,
+and finally took her and Antonia back with him.
+It is very sudden! I should be frightened at
+her attempting the voyage, but Grace says it
+is just what Doctor Flower has been wishing
+and hoping for. Poor Mrs. Peyton! I shall
+miss her very much, Uncle John. She is very,
+very lovable; and, somehow, these few days
+have so softened and changed her&mdash;I hardly
+know how to put it, but it is as if her heart
+had waked up after a long sleep."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it has!" said Mr. Montfort, thoughtfully.
+"Poor Emily! she has had an unhappy
+life; yet when she was your age, Margaret,
+Emily Silverton thought she had the world at
+her feet. Life is instructive, my child. Did
+she tell you what she had done about
+Grace?"</p>
+
+<p>Margaret shook her head. "She said you
+would have something to tell me, but she would
+not say anything more. She was bent on keeping
+control over her nerves, I think, so I tried
+just to keep things quiet and cheerful, and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>
+saw that was what she wanted. What is it
+about Grace?"</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon Mr. Montfort told the story of
+the jewels, and how he had taken them to town
+with him the day before. "It will be a great
+change for our Grace," he said. "She has
+had very little money, I think you told me,
+Margaret?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, almost none, Uncle John. She has had
+a very, very hard time; and since her father
+died last year&mdash;she seems to have no other
+relations&mdash;she has supported herself entirely.
+Oh, this is a kind thing of Mrs. Peyton; and
+I understand just how she feels and why she
+wants to do it. Aren't the jewels worth a good
+deal, Uncle John?"</p>
+
+<p>"Guess how much, little girl!"</p>
+
+<p>"How can I? Perhaps as much as a thousand
+dollars? Oh, Uncle John!"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps, Margaret; my child, Tiffany's head
+man thinks,&mdash;he could not price them all exactly,&mdash;but,
+roughly speaking, he thinks&mdash;that
+this collection is worth&mdash;fifty thousand dollars.
+Grace is, comparatively speaking, a rich woman."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret stood speechless, in utter amazement.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>
+At this moment there was a sound, as
+of a book falling to the ground, and a smothered
+exclamation. Both started and looked round,
+as Hugh Montfort rose from the corner where
+he had been seated and came slowly forward.
+He was very pale, and seemed to bear more
+heavily on his stick than usual.</p>
+
+<p>"You knew I was here, Margaret?" he said,
+with a look that tried to be unconcerned. "I
+trust I have not overheard anything that I
+should not. I was writing, and thought you
+saw me when you came in."</p>
+
+<p>"No secrets, my boy, no secrets!" said Mr.
+Montfort, heartily. "You heard this great
+piece of news about our little friend, did you?
+She does not know it herself yet; Margaret
+must tell her. Margaret, you have deserved
+this pleasure, my dear, and I rejoice in making
+it over to you."</p>
+
+<p>The good man was glowing with pleasure and
+good will; but for once he met no response
+from Hugh, who, pale and gloomy, stared before
+him as if he had seen a ghost.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear fellow," cried Mr. Montfort, changing
+his tone at once, "you are not well. How<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>
+pale you are! or&mdash;you have had no bad news,
+Hugh? Nobody ill at home, eh? Your father&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, sir, all well! Father is in perfect
+trim; I have just been reading a letter from
+him, Uncle John; you must hear it, sometime
+when you are not busy. Don't look at me like
+that, Margaret! I&mdash;my head aches a little, if
+I must confess. Did you never see any one with
+a headache before?"</p>
+
+<p>Was it possible that Hugh was out of temper?
+Neither Mr. Montfort nor Margaret could believe
+it at first; both gazed at him, expecting the
+usual kindly smile to begin in his eyes and
+break gradually over his face; but no smile
+came. Mr. Montfort, who had lived many
+years and seen many things, was the first to
+recover himself; he passed Hugh with a friendly
+pat on the shoulder, and, nodding to Margaret,
+went out of the room. Margaret remained still,
+looking earnestly in her cousin's face, unconscious
+of offence.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Hugh," she said, affectionately, "I am
+so sorry! Let me get you something&mdash;one of
+those tablets that relieved you last time."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no!" said Hugh. "It is nothing, Margaret,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
+nothing at all. So Miss Wolfe is a rich
+woman, is she, and spoilt for life? And you
+are glad, you and Uncle John! Well, I am
+sorry, for my part; sorry from the bottom of
+my heart. It is an iniquity."</p>
+
+<p>"Hugh!"</p>
+
+<p>"It is! She will grow into an idle fine lady,
+like this very Mrs. Peyton, who throws about
+her gewgaws at every whim. Her life will be
+frittered away over dresses and frippery and
+fashion. Instead of a worker, a real woman,
+with a woman's work and aims, you will have
+a butterfly, pretty and useless, fluttering about
+in the sunshine, unable to bear rough weather.
+A fine piece of work it will be, the ruining of a
+girl like that."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret stood aghast, and for a few moments
+found no words. Her cousin's face
+showed that he was only too deeply in earnest;
+his eyes glowed with sombre fire, and a
+dark red spot burned in his cheek. When Margaret
+did speak at last, her eyes were tender,
+but her voice was grave, almost stern. "Hugh,"
+she said, "I hardly know you; and I see that
+you do not know Grace in the least. I thought&mdash;I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>
+thought you did&mdash;understand her, better
+perhaps than any one else did; but if you can
+say such things as these, I see I was utterly mistaken.
+She, spoiled by a little prosperity? Oh,
+how can you? For shame, Hugh!"</p>
+
+<p>Hugh looked up at her suddenly. "Oh, Margaret!"
+he said. "Margaret, have patience with
+me! I&mdash;I am not myself to-day. My head&mdash;there
+is something wrong with me."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear," said Margaret, tenderly. "Go
+and lie down, Hugh, won't you? And I'll bring
+you some cracked ice. That always helps a
+little."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want to lie down, and I don't want
+any cracked ice; thank you all the same, good
+little sister-cousin! I'll go out into the garden,
+I think. The trees will be the best thing for
+me to-day. And&mdash;Margaret&mdash;forget what I
+said, will you? It is none of my business, of
+course; only&mdash;good-by, little girl!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
+
+<h3>IN THE GARDEN</h3>
+
+
+<p>"But, Grace&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But-ter, Margaret!"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, please don't be absurd!"</p>
+
+<p>"My angel, I am not half so absurd as you
+are. Why, in the name of all that is incongruous,
+should I take this lady's money? Is thy
+servant a dog, that she should do this thing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Listen, Grace! You are wholly, utterly
+wrong. Listen to me! Let us sit down here
+by the summer-house and have it out. No, you
+have said enough; it is my turn now. You talk
+about yourself, and your independence and freedom,
+and I don't know what. My dear, I want
+you to forget yourself, and think of her."</p>
+
+<p>"Of her? What difference does it make to
+her?"</p>
+
+<p>"All the difference in the world, it may be.
+What is that noise?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It is I!" said Hugh, emerging from the summer-house.
+"I seem fated to be an eavesdropper,
+and yet I am not one by nature. Pardon me,
+young ladies!"</p>
+
+<p>He was about to pass them with a formal bow,
+but Margaret, with a sudden inspiration, caught
+his arm. "No!" she cried, "I want you to hear
+what I am going to say. You, too, misunderstand&mdash;sit
+down, Hugh, and listen! Please!"
+she added, in the tone that seldom failed to win
+any heart.</p>
+
+<p>Hugh hesitated, but finally sat down, looking
+very grim, and stared at the box-tree in front
+of him. Margaret went on, hurriedly, moved
+for once out of her gentle calm.</p>
+
+<p>"This lady&mdash;I must speak plainly, though
+she is my friend&mdash;has lived a selfish, empty,
+idle life. She was very beautiful and very rich,
+really one of the great beauties and heiresses,
+and&mdash;and that was all. She was brought up
+by a worldly aunt&mdash;her mother died when she
+was little&mdash;and married to some one whom she
+cannot have cared for very much, I am afraid;
+and she never had any children. Then came
+all this ill health. Oh, Grace, I can't help it if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>
+it wasn't all real, she certainly has suffered a
+great deal; and through it all she has been
+alone, loving no one, and with no one to love
+her. She will not see any of her own people,
+cousins&mdash;she has no one nearer; she says they
+are all mercenary. I don't know, of course,
+but it is one of the terrible things about having
+a great deal of money, that you think everybody
+wants it, whether they do or not. Now, at last,
+before it was too late,&mdash;oh, I am so thankful
+for that,&mdash;the change has come. She has waked
+up, and it is all owing to you, Grace. Yes, it
+is! I have been fond of her, and she has petted
+me, and been very good to me, and given me
+things, but I never could open her eyes, try as
+I would. Now, you have done it, dear. You
+not only saved her life actually&mdash;yes, you did,
+Grace; she told me all about it; she never
+would have got out of that room alive but for
+you&mdash;you not only saved her life, but you have
+given her some idea of how to live. She wants
+to do something in return. It is the first time,
+I do believe, that she has wanted <i>really</i> to help
+some one else. When she gave me prettinesses,
+it was because it amused her to do it, not because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>
+I needed them, nor because she was thinking
+specially about me.</p>
+
+<p>"Grace, if you refuse this; if you shut back
+the kindly impulse, the desire to help some one,
+I tell you you will be doing a wrong thing. It
+is nothing in the world but pride, selfish pride,
+that is speaking in you. Tell me again&mdash;tell
+Hugh, what Mrs. Peyton said to you when she
+went away."</p>
+
+<p>"She said&mdash;" Grace's voice had not its usual
+cool evenness, but was husky, and faltered now
+and then&mdash;"she said, 'Do not refuse my last
+wish! I do not tell you what it is, for fear you
+should refuse at once, and shut me up with
+myself again. Do not refuse, for the sake of
+Christian kindness, of which I have known
+nothing hitherto, but which I mean to learn
+something about if I can.'"</p>
+
+<p>"And then?"</p>
+
+<p>"And then&mdash;she kissed me&mdash;Margaret, it is
+brutal of you to make me tell this!&mdash;she kissed
+me twice, and said&mdash;" Grace's voice broke. "I&mdash;cannot!"
+she faltered.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret rose to her feet with a sudden impulse.
+"Hark!" she said. "Is that Uncle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>
+John calling me? Wait here, please, both of
+you!" and she ran off, never looking behind
+her. It was the first and last deceitful act of
+Margaret Montfort's life.</p>
+
+<p>There was a long silence. Hugh Montfort
+stared at the box-tree. Grace cried a little,
+quietly; then wiped away her tears, not
+noticing them much, and observed an ant
+running along the path. At last, "Well?"
+said Hugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Well!" said Grace. "I am sorry to have
+made such a spectacle of myself. Is there
+anything to say?"</p>
+
+<p>Hugh plucked a box-leaf and scrutinized it
+carefully.</p>
+
+<p>"They make these things so even!" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Machinery never could&mdash;Let me tell you a
+story. Do you mind? Once upon a time there
+was a man&mdash;or&mdash;well, call him a man! He
+was part of one, anyhow, as much as accident
+allowed. He was not strong, but he could work,
+and he meant to work, and do things he cared
+about, and lead as good a life as he knew how.
+He had been a good deal alone, somehow, though
+he had dear good people of his own; he was an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>
+odd stick, I suppose, as odd as the one he walked
+with."</p>
+
+<p>He stopped, glanced at his stick, with its
+handle worn smooth as glass; then he went
+on.</p>
+
+<p>"He had never seen much of women, except
+his own family; never thought about them
+much as individuals, though always in his mind
+there was a dream&mdash;I suppose all men have it&mdash;of
+some one he should meet some day, who
+would turn the world from gray to gold. One
+day&mdash;he saw a vision; and&mdash;after that&mdash;he
+learned, not all at once, but little by little, that
+life was not full and rounded, as he had thought
+it, but empty and one-sided and unprofitable, if
+this vision could not be always before his eyes;
+if this one woman could not come into his life,
+to be his star, his light, his joy and happiness.
+She was poor, like himself. He thought of
+working for her, of sharing with her the honest,
+laborious, perhaps helpful life he had planned,
+the life of a Western forester, living among the
+woods and mountains, studying the trees he
+loved, learning the secrets of nature at first
+hand, teaching his beloved all the little he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>
+knew, and learning more, a thousandfold more,
+from every look of her eyes, every tone of her
+wonderful voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;while he dreamed&mdash;something happened.
+Suddenly, by a wave of a wand, as in
+the fairy tales, his maiden was transformed.
+Instead of the orphan girl, working bravely
+with her brave hands to earn her bread, he saw&mdash;a
+rich woman! saw the woman he loved condemned
+by the idle whim of an idle pleasure-seeker
+to sit with folded hands, or play with
+toys and trinkets. He was filled with rage; he
+hated the very sound of the word money, because&mdash;it
+seemed to him that this money would
+rob him of his darling. I&mdash;he&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Hugh broke off suddenly. "I am the greatest
+fool in the world!" he said. "Grace, do you
+understand me? Do you know what I am trying
+to say?"</p>
+
+<p>It was the merest whisper that replied, "I
+don't&mdash;know&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you do." Hugh caught the slender
+hands, and held them close. "You know, you
+must know, that I have cared for you ever since
+that first wonderful moment, when you broke<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>
+through the leaves like sunshine, and I saw the
+face I had dreamed of all my life. You must
+have felt it, all these weeks. Oh, Margaret is
+right, I suppose. All she says is true enough;
+if you can help this poor woman by taking her
+wretched money, I suppose you will have to do
+it. But&mdash;but I lose my princess, before ever
+I could win her. I can't ask a rich woman to
+be my wife."</p>
+
+<p>While Hugh was speaking, Grace's head had
+drooped lower and lower, as if she shrank under
+the weight that was laid upon her; but now
+she looked up bravely, with a lovely light in
+her eyes. "Can't you, Hugh?" she said. "It's
+a pity you can't, Hugh, because&mdash;you could
+have her for the asking."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>UNCLE JOHN'S BIRTHDAY</h3>
+
+
+<p>If Timothy Bannan has had scant mention
+in these pages, it is not because he was not an
+important personage at Fernley. King of the
+stable, governor of the dogs, chief authority on
+all matters pertaining to what Gerald called
+"four-leggers," he was as much a part of the
+establishment as Frances herself. In person he
+was a small man, with reddish-gray whiskers,
+an obstinate chin, and a kindly twinkling eye.
+He usually wore a red waistcoat with black
+sleeves, and he was suspected of matrimonial
+designs on Elizabeth.</p>
+
+<p>One morning, not long after the events of
+which I have been telling, Bannan approached
+his master, who was tying up roses, Margaret,
+as usual, attending him with shears and ball of
+twine.</p>
+
+<p>"If you please, sir," said Bannan, touching<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>
+his hat, "would it be convenient for me to take
+a horse this evening, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort straightened himself, and looked
+with friendly interest at his retainer.</p>
+
+<p>"A horse, Bannan? Certainly! What horse
+do you want?"</p>
+
+<p>Bannan looked embarrassed. "I was thinking
+of taking Chief, if you was anyways willing,
+sir." Now Chief was the pride of the Fernley
+stable. Mr. Montfort opened his eyes a little.</p>
+
+<p>"Going far, Bannan?"</p>
+
+<p>"N&mdash;not so very far, sir. I was wishful to
+try him with the new cart, if you had no objections."</p>
+
+<p>The new cart was a particularly stylish and
+comfortable wagonette, bought for Margaret to
+take her young friends out in, and Mr. Montfort's
+eyes opened still wider.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Bannan&mdash;of course you will be careful.
+You want to take some friends out, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>This simple question seemed to embarrass
+Bannan strangely. He reddened, and taking
+off his cap, turned it round and round in his
+hands. "No, sir, I shouldn't presume&mdash;that
+is to say, not exactly friends, sir, and yet not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>
+anyways the reverse. But if it's not agreeable
+to you, sir, I'll take the old mare and the
+Concord wagon."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," said Mr. Montfort, kindly. "Take
+Chief and the cart by all means, Bannan. I
+wish you a pleasant drive with your&mdash;friends."
+Bannan thanked him and withdrew, and Mr.
+Montfort turned to Margaret with a smile and
+a sigh. "Does that mean Elizabeth and matrimony,
+Margaret? What will Frances say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, Uncle, I am quite sure that Elizabeth
+would disapprove as much as Frances of
+Bannan's taking Chief and the wagonette. You
+are too indulgent, dear sir."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose I am," said Mr. Montfort. "I
+suppose, also, that I am too old to change. But
+I never knew Bannan to do such a thing
+before."</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, Bannan was standing at the
+kitchen door, fuming. "If ever I do sich a
+thing again, Frances, you may cut me up and
+serve me in a gravy-boat."</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody'd touch ye!" said Frances. "Ye've
+got to have juice to make gravy, ye little bones-bag.
+I told ye let me see to it; men-folks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>
+always messes when they try to manage nice
+things. It's like as if you started to whip cream
+with a garding hose."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care!" said Bannan. "'Twas me
+the telegram come to, and 'twas me they expected
+to see to it. You'd like to boss everything
+and everybody on the place, Frances."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll boss you with this mop, little man, if
+you give me any sauce," said Frances, with
+massive calm. "Go away now and feed your
+beasts; it's what you're best at."</p>
+
+<p>"But you'll have the supper ready and all,
+Frances? If I can feed beasts, you can feed
+their masters, I'm bound to own that," said
+Bannan, presenting this transparent sop with
+an air of hopeful diffidence.</p>
+
+<p>"Go 'long with ye!" said Frances, loftily,
+yet with a suggestion of softening in her voice.
+"I've kep' Mr. John's birthday for twenty
+years, but I reckon you'd better tell me how to
+do it this time."</p>
+
+<p>"And you'll tell nobody about&mdash;them&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But here Frances raised the mop with such a
+businesslike air that Bannan took himself off,
+grumbling and shaking his head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Left alone, Frances fell into a frenzy of preparation,
+and when Margaret found her half an
+hour later, she was beating eggs, stoning raisins,
+and creaming butter, apparently all at the same
+moment. An ardent consultation followed.
+What flavor would Mr. John (Frances would
+never say Mr. Montfort) like best for the ice-cream?
+and the cake&mdash;would a caramel frosting
+be best, or a boiled frosting with candied fruits
+chopped into it? and for the small cakes, now,
+and the tartlets?</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Montfort's birthday came, as most birthdays
+do, once a year. Considering this, it was
+a singular thing that he, the most methodical
+of men, who turned his calendar as regularly as
+he wound his watch, never seemed to remember
+it. He never failed to be astonished at Margaret's
+morning greeting. More than this, he
+apparently forgot it as soon as it was over, for
+he always had a fresh stock of astonishment on
+hand for the health-imperilling feast that Frances
+was sure to arrange for the evening. To-day
+he took no notice of the fact that wherever he
+went he came upon some girl or boy carrying
+armfuls of flowers and ferns, or arranging them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
+in bowls, jars, and vases. When he found his
+desk heaped with a tangle of clematis and wild
+lilies,&mdash;Peggy had dropped them there "just for
+a minute," half an hour before,&mdash;this excellent
+man merely said "Charming," and rescued his
+pet Montaigne from the wet sprays which covered
+it. In the course of the morning, Fernley
+House was transformed into a bower of greenery,
+lit up with masses of splendid color. Everywhere
+drooped or nodded clusters of ferns, the ostrich
+fern and the great Osmunda Regalis, with here
+and there masses of maiden-hair, most delicate
+and beautiful of all. In the library, especially,
+the ferns were arranged with all the skill and
+care that Margaret possessed. They outlined
+the oaken shelves, their delicate tracery seeming
+to lie lovingly against the rich mellow tints of
+morocco and vellum; they waved from tall
+vases of crystal and porcelain; they spread
+their lace-like fronds in flat bowls and dishes.
+"I don't see how there can be any left," said
+Peggy; "it seems as if we had all the ferns in
+the world, and yet in the woods it didn't seem
+to make any difference. Oh, Jean, isn't it just
+splendid!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Corking!" said Jean.</p>
+
+<p>"Jean, I won't have you say that."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the Merryweathers say it all the time,
+Peggy. They never say anything else, except
+when Margaret is round; you know they don't."</p>
+
+<p>"The Merryweathers are boys, and you are a
+girl, and there is all the difference in the world,"
+said Peggy, loftily. "Jean, it is high time you
+went to school."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, bother school! I have two ponies to
+break this fall, and Pa has promised to let me
+drive the reaper around the hundred-acre
+field."</p>
+
+<p>Peggy said nothing, being a wise as well as
+an affectionate elder sister; but she resolved to
+consult Hugh, and to write to "Pa" without
+delay.</p>
+
+<p>So the morning passed in preparation and
+mystery. Then in the afternoon came a drive
+in the great open car, a delightful vehicle, holding
+eight people comfortably. Peggy sat on the
+box&mdash;happy Peggy!&mdash;and drove the spirited
+black horses. Uncle John was by her side, and
+they recalled merrily the day when, as John
+Strong, he took his first drive with her, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>
+decided that she was to be trusted with a
+horse.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what fun we did have that summer!"
+cried Peggy. "Only&mdash;we had no Uncle John.
+Oh, Uncle, if we had Rita here, wouldn't it be
+too absolutely perfect for anything?"</p>
+
+<p>"It would be very delightful," said Mr.
+Montfort. "I would give a good deal to see
+that dark-eyed lassie and her gallant Jack.
+I think I must take you and Margaret to Cuba
+one of these days, Peggy, to see them. How
+would you like that, Missy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Uncle John!" cried Peggy; and she
+almost dropped the whip, in the effort to
+squeeze his arm and turn a corner at the
+same moment.</p>
+
+<p>But the best of all was when the whole
+family assembled in the library before supper,
+the girls in their very prettiest dresses, with
+flowers in their hair, the lads brave in white
+duck waistcoats, with roses and ferns in their
+buttonholes. Then the girls presented the
+gifts they had made for the beloved uncle;
+Margaret's book, a fine old copy of the "Colloquies
+of Erasmus," bound by her own hands in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>
+gold-stamped brown leather, Peggy's mermaid-penwiper,
+with a long tail of sea-green sewing
+silk, and the pincushion on which Jean had
+spent many painful hours in her efforts to make
+the ferns look like ferns instead of like green
+hen feathers. Grace had woven a basket of
+sweet rushes, of quaint and graceful pattern,
+which Mr. Montfort <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'delared'">declared</ins> was what he had
+dreamed of all his life, while Hugh produced
+a box of wonderful cigars, which had a history
+as mysterious and subtle as their fragrance.
+Lastly, the Merryweathers, declaring
+that they had no gift but themselves, and
+that if Mr. Montfort would be graciously
+pleased to accept them, they were his, proceeded
+to go through a series of acrobatic performances,
+which brought cries of admiration from
+all the beholders.</p>
+
+<p>While this was going on, Margaret took
+advantage of the interlude (though she was
+loth to lose one of Gerald's graceful postures)
+to run out and see if supper was ready. She
+came back with a rueful countenance, and
+whispered to Peggy, "Supper will not be ready
+for ten minutes yet, and Frances is in a most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>
+frightful temper. She actually drove me out
+of the kitchen; said she would not be bothered
+with foolish children, and she would not send
+supper in till Bannan came back, if it cost her
+her place."</p>
+
+<p>"Bannan? What has Bannan to do with
+supper?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bringing something, I suppose; some extra
+frill she has prepared as a surprise. She is
+always savage when she has a surprise on foot.
+Hark! There are wheels now. Listen! Yes,
+they are going round to the back door. Bannan
+has come, then, and we may hope for food.
+Oh, do look at those boys! Did you ever see
+anything like that?"</p>
+
+<p>All eyes were fixed on the twins, who,
+after every variety of separate antic, now proceeded
+to perform what they called a patent
+reversible waltz. Standing on their hands, they
+twined their feet together in the air, and revolved
+gracefully, moving in unison, and keeping
+time to the waltz they whistled. The whole
+company was watching this proceeding with
+such absorbed attention that no one saw the
+door at the back of the hall open silently; no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>
+one noticed the figure that stole noiselessly
+through, and now stood motionless in the doorway.
+A young woman, slender, richly dressed,
+beautiful exceedingly; with a certain foreign
+grace, which struck the eye even more than her
+beauty. But it was neither the grace nor the
+beauty that was first to be seen now; it was
+the light of love in the large dark eyes, the soft
+fire of joy and tenderness and mirth that shone
+from them, and seemed to irradiate her whole
+figure as she stood there, erect, yet seeming to
+sway forward, her hand on the door, her eyes
+bent on the group before her. Her gaze wandered
+for a moment to the guests: the revolving
+boys, Grace and Hugh in their quiet corner
+together, Jean staring with open eyes and
+mouth; but after a wondering look, it came
+back and settled again on the central group,
+Mr. Montfort, in his great armchair, Peggy and
+Margaret each on a stool beside him, leaning
+against his knees. Was the group complete?
+or was there room for another by that good
+man's side?</p>
+
+<p>Jean was the first to look up and see the
+newcomer. She started violently. "My goodness!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>
+she cried, "who is that?" The next
+instant a cry rang out, as Margaret and Peggy
+sprang forward, "Rita! Rita!"</p>
+
+<p>But Rita was too quick for them. Before
+they were well on their feet she had them both
+in her arms, and was weeping, sobbing, laughing,
+and kissing, all in a breath. With the
+next breath she had sunk at Mr. Montfort's feet,
+and, seizing his hand, pressed it passionately to
+her lips.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear child," cried Uncle John, blushing
+like a girl, and drawing away his hand in great
+discomposure. "Don't, my love; pray don't.
+Rita! is it possible that this is really you?
+What does it mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"What does it mean, my uncle? It means
+that even in Cuba we know the days of the
+month. Dearest and best of men, I wish you
+a thousand returns of the day,&mdash;five, ten
+thousand returns, and each one more blissful
+than the last. Marguerite, my angel, you are
+more beautiful than ever. Angel is no longer
+the word; you are a seraph! Embrace me
+again! Peggy, you are a mountain; but a
+veritable mountain of roses and cream! Dear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>
+little huge creature, I adore you. But where,
+then, is the rest of me? Jack! Figure to
+yourself a husband who skulks in doorways at
+a moment like this! Come forth, thou!"</p>
+
+<p>Jack Del Monte advanced laughing; behind
+him in the passage the three conspirators,
+Frances, Elizabeth, and Bannan, peered triumphant.
+"My dear," said Jack, "I was
+merely waiting for my cue. You would not
+have had me spoil your entrance, you know you
+would not. Uncle John&mdash;I may say Uncle
+John? thanks!&mdash;I hope you will forgive Rita's
+little stratagem for the sake of the pleasure it
+has given her."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear nephew," said Uncle John, "you
+have brought me the most enchanting birthday
+gift that ever a man had. Let me look at you
+again, Rita! If ever happiness agreed with a
+person&mdash;but I must not begin upon compliments
+now. I want you to know these cousins
+and friends. Here is Hugh Montfort and Jean;
+here is Grace Wolfe, who is to be your cousin
+one of these good days; and here are our friends
+Gerald and Philip Merryweather. You have all
+heard of one another; let us all be friends at
+once, without further ceremony, and keep this
+joyful feast together."</p>
+
+<p>"Supper is served, sir," said Elizabeth.</p>
+
+<p>A joyful feast it was indeed. The table,
+decked with ferns and roses, was covered with
+every good thing that Frances could think of,
+and she could think of a good many. The
+candles shed their cheerful light on all, though
+the faces hardly needed the artificial light.
+Amid general mirth, Rita told of her plan;
+her letter of inquiry to Frances and Elizabeth,
+asking if all were well, and if their coming
+would make any inconvenience. Then the
+telegram to Bannan, and the arrival, to find
+him awaiting them with the best horse the
+stable afforded; and, finally, their stealthy
+entrance at the back door. All had been triumphantly
+successful, and as Rita told her
+story, she laughed and clapped her hands with
+the glee of a child, while every face glowed
+responsive.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 348px;">
+<img src="images/gs08.png" width="348" height="300" alt="&quot;&#39;I PROPOSE .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. THE HEALTH OF THE BEST MAN .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. THAT LIVES UPON THIS EARTH TO-DAY; .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. THE HEALTH OF MY UNCLE JOHN!&#39;&quot;" title="&quot;&#39;I PROPOSE .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. THE HEALTH OF THE BEST MAN .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. THAT LIVES UPON THIS EARTH TO-DAY; .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. THE HEALTH OF MY UNCLE JOHN!&#39;&quot;" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;&#39;I PROPOSE .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. THE HEALTH OF THE BEST MAN .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. THAT LIVES UPON THIS EARTH TO-DAY; .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. THE HEALTH OF MY UNCLE JOHN!&#39;&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"And now," said Rita Del Monte, springing
+to her feet, and lifting high her glass, "I wish
+to propose a toast&mdash;the only fitting toast for
+this night. I propose, dear friends, and dear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>
+strangers whom I hope to have for friends, the
+health of the best man&mdash;ah, Jack, you have
+not had time yet, nor you others; but courage,
+time is before you!&mdash;of the best man, I say,
+that lives upon this earth to-day; the dearest,
+the kindest&mdash;oh, all please drink to the health
+of my Uncle John!"</p>
+
+<p>One and all were upon their feet; all bending
+forward, glass in hand, eager and joyous, their
+eyes shining with love and admiration; and
+from one and all came the same glad cry,
+"Uncle John!"</p>
+
+<p>"Because if one hasn't the luck to be really
+his nephew," said Gerald, "the least one can
+do is to make a bluff at it."</p>
+
+<p>And here, at this happy moment, let us leave
+our friends. Good-by, Margaret&mdash;dear Margaret!
+Good-by, Peggy and Rita, Hugh and
+Grace, Gerald and Phil,&mdash;we may see you again,
+boys,&mdash;Jean and Jack! Good-by, and good
+luck to you! Last of all, good-by to you, John
+Montfort. If you are not the best man in the
+world, you are at least a good one! Wise and
+strong, courteous and kindly, brave and true,
+long may you live, as now you sit, in your own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>
+beautiful home, surrounded by those you love
+best in the world. Love, kindness, and truth;
+having these, what more do you lack? Good-by,
+John Montfort.</p>
+
+
+<h2>THE END.</h2>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3>
+<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p>
+
+<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fernley House, by Laura E. Richards
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@@ -0,0 +1,5295 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fernley House, 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: Fernley House
+
+Author: Laura E. Richards
+
+Illustrator: Etheldred B. Barry
+
+Release Date: May 12, 2008 [EBook #25446]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FERNLEY HOUSE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+FERNLEY HOUSE
+
+
+
+
+BOOKS FOR GIRLS
+
+By Laura E. Richards
+
+
+_The_ MARGARET SERIES
+
+        Three Margarets
+        Margaret Montfort
+        Peggy
+        Rita
+        Fernley House
+
+
+_The_ HILDEGARDE SERIES
+
+        Queen Hildegarde
+        Hildegarde's Holiday
+        Hildegarde's Home
+        Hildegarde's Neighbors
+        Hildegarde's Harvest
+
+        DANA ESTES & COMPANY
+        Publishers
+        Estes Press, Summer St., Boston
+
+[Illustration: "HUGH AND MARGARET, ALL UNCONSCIOUS OF HER SCRUTINY, WERE
+ENJOYING THEMSELVES EXTREMELY."]
+
+
+
+
+FERNLEY HOUSE
+
+BY
+LAURA E. RICHARDS
+
+AUTHOR OF "CAPTAIN JANUARY," "MELODY," "QUEEN HILDEGARDE," "GEOFFREY
+STRONG," ETC.
+
+Illustrated by
+ETHELDRED B. BARRY
+
+[Illustration]
+
+        BOSTON
+        DANA ESTES & COMPANY
+        PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+        _Copyright, 1901_
+        BY DANA ESTES & COMPANY
+
+        _All rights reserved_
+
+        FERNLEY HOUSE
+
+        Colonial Press
+        Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
+        Boston, Mass., U.S.A.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  CHAPTER                                                           PAGE
+
+      I. A DUET                                                       11
+
+     II. MRS. PEYTON'S COMPANION                                      23
+
+    III. AN ARRIVAL                                                   33
+
+     IV. UNCLE JOHN'S IDEA                                            46
+
+      V. A VISION                                                     58
+
+     VI. ALI BABA                                                     70
+
+    VII. MORE ARRIVALS                                                86
+
+   VIII. HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF                                      100
+
+     IX. ABOUT NOTHING IN PARTICULAR                                 114
+
+      X. GRACE'S SYSTEM                                              128
+
+     XI. THE MYSTERIES OF FERNLEY                                    143
+
+    XII. THE EGG OF COLUMBUS                                         161
+
+   XIII. IN THE TWILIGHT                                             168
+
+    XIV. THE FIRE                                                    183
+
+     XV. JEWELS: AND AN AWAKENING                                    195
+
+    XVI. FOR AULD LANG SYNE                                          205
+
+   XVII. IN THE GARDEN                                               217
+
+  XVIII. UNCLE JOHN'S BIRTHDAY                                       225
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                                    PAGE
+  "HUGH AND MARGARET, ALL UNCONSCIOUS OF HER SCRUTINY,
+    WERE ENJOYING THEMSELVES EXTREMELY"                    _Frontispiece_
+
+  "MARGARET DID THE HONORS, STILL FEELING VERY SHY"                   29
+
+  "AT THIS MOMENT POLLY APPEARED, RED-CHEEKED AND BREATHLESS"         33
+
+  "SHE WAS A SLENDERER PEGGY, WITH THE SAME BLUE, HONEST EYES"        86
+
+  "SHE LOOKED UP, AND SAW GRACE SITTING ON A BROAD, LOW BRANCH"      137
+
+  "ON THE SECOND LANDING THEY PAUSED TO SALUTE THE OLD PORTRAITS"    148
+
+  "A TALL, SLENDER FIGURE HALF RAN, HALF TOTTERED INTO THE ROOM"     181
+
+  "'I PROPOSE . . . THE HEALTH OF THE BEST MAN . . . THAT LIVES
+    UPON THIS EARTH TO-DAY; . . . THE HEALTH OF MY UNCLE JOHN!'"     238
+
+
+
+
+FERNLEY HOUSE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+A DUET
+
+
+"Well, Margaret!"
+
+"Well, Uncle John!"
+
+"Not a word to throw at a dog, as Rosalind says?"
+
+"You are not a dog, Uncle John. Besides, you know all about it without
+my saying a word, so why should I be silly, and spoil your comfortable
+cigar? Dear children! They will have a delightful time, I hope; and of
+course it is perfectly right that they should go to their father when he
+wants them; and--the summer will pass quickly."
+
+"Very quickly!" Mr. Montfort assented, watching his smoke rings float
+upward.
+
+"And Peggy is coming; and--oh, we shall be all right, of course we
+shall; only--we do miss them, don't we, Uncle?"
+
+"I should think we did! A house is a poor place without children; and we
+flatter ourselves that our two--eh, Margaret?"
+
+"Oh, they are the dearest children in the world," said Margaret with
+conviction. "There is no possible doubt about that."
+
+She sighed, and took up her work; Mr. Montfort blew smoke rings and
+watched them melt into the air. There was an interval of sympathetic
+silence.
+
+The children, Basil and Susan D., Margaret's cousins, had hardly been
+gone two hours, yet the time seemed already long to Margaret Montfort.
+Fernley House, which only this morning had been so running over with joy
+and sunlight, and happy noise and bustle, seemed suddenly to have become
+a great empty barrack, full of nothing but silence. Margaret, after
+putting away, sadly enough, the things that the children had left about,
+had been glad to join her uncle on the pleasant back verandah that
+overlooked the garden.
+
+Fernley was in the full glory of early summer. The leaves were still
+young, and too soft to rustle in the gently moving air; the laburnums
+and honey-locusts were in blossom, and the bees came and went,
+heavy-laden. The sombre, trailing branches of the great Norway spruces
+touched the smooth green turf, starred here and there with English
+daisies. Farther back, the tulip-trees towered stately, and the elm
+branches swept the crest of the tall box hedges.
+
+Margaret's eyes kept wandering from her work. How could she stitch, when
+things were looking like this? There was the oriole, swinging on the
+bough beside his nest, pouring out his song, "Joy! joy! joy!" The eggs
+might be hatched to-day. Basil had begged her to promise that she would
+let neither cat nor squirrel meddle with the young birds. What should
+she do, if she saw a cat up there, forty feet from the ground? Dear
+Basil! he never could understand why she could not climb trees as well
+as he and Susan D. Dear Basil! dearest of boys! how nice he looked in
+his new blue suit; and who would mend the first "barndoor" that he tore
+in jacket or trousers?
+
+And little Susan D.! the warm clasp of her arms seemed still about
+Margaret's neck, in that last strangling hug of parting. She had grown
+so dear, the little silent child! "I will be good," she whispered.
+"Cousin Margaret, I will try not to die without you, and I will remember
+the things you told me about papa; but don't make me stay very long,
+because I haven't got enough goodness to last very long, you know I
+haven't."
+
+Margaret was roused from her reverie by her uncle's voice.
+
+"When did you say Peggy was coming, my dear?"
+
+"Next week, Uncle John. School closes on the eighteenth. Dear little
+Peggy! think of her being a senior! it seems hardly possible. She is
+afraid I shall tell her to put her hair up; I certainly shall not, at
+least while she is here. I am sure you prefer the pigtail, don't you,
+Uncle John?"
+
+"Yes! oh, yes!" said Mr. Montfort, abstractedly. "Pigtail--yes, by all
+means. And how will you and Peggy amuse yourselves, my dear? No Rita
+this summer to electrify us all. You will not find it dull?"
+
+"Dull, Uncle John? how could Fernley possibly be dull? Why, Peggy and I
+are going to be as happy as possible. I have all kinds of plans made.
+You see, it is time Peggy was learning something about housekeeping and
+that sort of thing, and I thought this summer would be the very best
+time to show her a little. Of course, when she is at home, she wants to
+be doing twenty thousand things on the farm, just as she always has
+done, and the time goes so quickly, she has not begun to think yet about
+the indoor things; so I am going to be the Humdrum-major, Uncle, and
+give her some lessons; if you approve, that is."
+
+"Highly, my dear, highly. Every woman should be able to take care of her
+own house, and the only way for her to learn is to begin upon some one
+else's. I should think Peggy might make a vigorous little housekeeper,
+if a chaotic one. Don't let her loose in the library, Margaret, that is
+my only prayer."
+
+"Uncle John, I really do believe that you think housekeeping consists
+entirely in dusting and setting things to wrongs, as you call it."
+
+"Well, my love, I confess that has always seemed to me a prime element
+in the art. But I also confess my ignorance, and the depth and darkness
+thereof. Am I humble enough? Now I must go and take the puppies for an
+airing. Till dinner-time, May Margaret!"
+
+Mr. Montfort strolled away, and Margaret bent with renewed energy over
+her work, giving herself a little shake as she did so. Her uncle's words
+still sounded in her ears: "You will not find it dull?" She had answered
+out of the fulness of her heart, thinking it impossible that dulness
+should come where Uncle John was, especially as he happened to be at
+Fernley House, the most enchanting place in the world. Yet--and yet--it
+was going to be very, very different, of course, from the life of the
+past year, so filled full and running over with delight. It was not only
+that she missed the children; it was that in the care of them, the
+watching over the growing bodies and the eager minds, she was learning
+so much herself, feeling the world grow, almost hourly, bigger and
+brighter and sweeter. The mother-nature was strong in Margaret Montfort,
+and the children were bringing out all that was best and strongest in
+her. Well, she must do without that now for awhile; and there was no
+doubt that the prospect seemed a little flat, even with Peggy to
+brighten it. Dear Peggy! Margaret loved her fondly; but she was so grown
+up now, so strong herself, so helpful and self-reliant, that there was
+no question of taking care of her any more. "Why, she knows twenty times
+as much as I do," said Margaret, "about most things, except history. I
+don't suppose she will ever remember the difference between Mary Stuart
+and Mary Tudor. But, foolish creature," cried Margaret to herself, "what
+have you just been saying to Uncle John? Here is all the world of
+housekeeping, about which Peggy knows little or nothing, and which,
+thanks to Elizabeth and Frances, you do begin to understand a little. Is
+it a small thing, I ask you, to teach the qualities and fine shades of
+damask, and the high-lights of huckaback? or the different cuts of meat,
+and when what is in season? I am ashamed of you, Margaret Montfort! And
+then there are the puppies, too! Don't let me hear another word of
+dulness from you, miss, do you hear? Perhaps you would like to be
+weaving cotton in a factory this heavenly day, or selling yards of hot
+stuffs in a shop? Go away!" and Margaret shook her head severely, and
+was surprised at herself.
+
+The puppies were two fine young setters, Nip and Tuck by name, which the
+wise uncle had bought on purpose to soften the blow of the parting with
+the children. Margaret had never known dogs before, and though Messrs.
+Nip and Tuck were being strictly trained, and had to spend much of their
+time in the stable-yard, she still had many a pleasant half-hour with
+them, when her uncle took them for a run over hill and dale, or gave
+them a lesson in the garden. Her one anxiety was lest they should meet
+the Queen of Sheba, her great Angora cat, and there should be trouble;
+for the Queen was a person of decided temper. Margaret had taken
+infinite pains, ever since the arrival of the puppies, to keep them out
+of one another's sight; but Mr. Montfort warned her that she was merely
+putting off the inevitable, and that the day must come when cat and dogs
+should meet.
+
+It seemed a little hard that this meeting must take place when the
+master was not present; but the finger of Fate pointed, and at this very
+moment, while Margaret was sitting with her peaceful thoughts, Michael,
+the stable-boy, chanced to drop the leash in which he was leading the
+puppies to their master. Three minutes later, Nip and Tuck were
+careering wildly around Margaret, leaping on her with frantic caresses,
+and talking both at once, and very loud, as dear dogs will sometimes do.
+
+"Down, Nip!" cried Margaret. "Tucky, do behave yourself. Now, boys,
+however did you get away? Charge, do, like dear boys, and wait for the
+master; he will be here in a minute."
+
+Nip and Tuck explained breathlessly that they had just got out by the
+luckiest chance in the world, that they loved her to distraction, and
+that, upon the whole, they preferred her society to that of any one else
+in the world, if only she would let them lick her nose. This Margaret
+firmly refused to do, and they lay down panting for a moment, but only
+for a moment. Again the finger of Fate pointed; and so it came to pass
+that as Mr. Montfort came round one corner in search of his run-aways,
+the Queen of Sheba came round the other. There seemed but one white
+flash as the two puppies, recognizing their destiny on the instant, flew
+to meet it, yelling like demons of the pit.
+
+"Oh, Uncle John!" cried Margaret, starting up in distress. "My poor
+Queen! my poor Sheba! they will--"
+
+"I wouldn't worry, Margaret," said Mr. Montfort. "Sheba can take care of
+herself, if I am not greatly mistaken."
+
+The great cat stiffened herself into a bristling bow, and waited the
+charge with gleaming eyes. The dogs' frenzied rush carried them within a
+foot of her whiskers, and there they stopped. This was not what they had
+looked for. They had seen cats before, and had chased them, with
+infinite joy; their mother had taught them that cats were made to be
+chased, with a special eye to the healthful amusement of good little
+dogs. But this furry, glaring creature, radiating power and
+menace,--could this be a cat?
+
+Nip and Tuck put their heads on one side and considered. The Queen of
+Sheba advanced one step, slowly; the puppies retired, too, and sat down,
+wagging their tails. Perhaps, after all, it was a kind of dog; their
+minds were cheerfully open to new impressions, and they were full of
+good will toward all creation. Perceiving their innocence, the Queen of
+Sheba, who had seen many generations of puppies, lowered her warlike
+arch, and, sitting down opposite them, proceeded to wash herself
+elaborately. Nip and Tuck looked on with open-mouthed admiration.
+Presently Tuck, who was a bold dog, gave a short bark of decision, and,
+stepping forward, began with infinite politeness to assist in the
+washing. Sheba received the attention with regal condescension. Five
+minutes later, all three walked off together, rubbing sides cordially,
+and presumably in quest of rats.
+
+Margaret drew a long breath. "Did you ever see anything like that?" she
+cried. "Look, Uncle John; they are talking to one another; you can
+almost hear the words. Isn't it wonderful?"
+
+"Very pretty," said Mr. Montfort. "Now they'll be friends for life,
+you'll see. Sheba will be of great assistance in their education. It
+takes an intelligent cat to understand puppies, and Sheba is a
+remarkably intelligent cat. Well, May Margaret, and now shall we take
+our four-legged children for a walk?"
+
+"Oh, Uncle John, I was so afraid you were not going to ask me! Will you
+wait just half a minute while I get my hat? and on the way back I will
+stop and see Mrs. Peyton. I have not been there since the dogs came or
+the children went, and I ought to be ashamed."
+
+Margaret ran up-stairs lightly, saying to herself as she ran, "Dull,
+with that man? and Peggy and the puppies beside? Margaret Montfort, I
+_am_ ashamed of you!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+MRS. PEYTON'S COMPANION
+
+
+"Dear me!" said Mrs. Peyton. "Here is Patience, down off her monument,
+come all this way to smile at Grief! I am Grief, my dear; allow me to
+introduce myself. Well, Margaret, and how do you get on without your
+brats--I beg pardon! I mean your pets?"
+
+"As well as could be expected," said Margaret, lightly, as she stooped
+to kiss the ivory forehead. Mrs. Peyton was charming, but one did not
+confide one's troubles to her. "We are behaving beautifully, Mrs. Peyton.
+Not only have we dried our tears and hung our pocket-handkerchiefs
+out to dry, but we have set up some new pets already."
+
+"Not more children? Not another set of 'The Orphans of Fernley,' bound
+in blue denim? That would be unendurable."
+
+"No; four-legged pets this time. We have two dogs, Mrs. Peyton;
+beautiful Gordon setters. I hope you are fond of dogs."
+
+"Oh!--dogs? Yes, I like dogs. As a rule I like them better than
+two-legged torments. You are a two-legged torment, Margaret, when you
+move about the room in that exasperatingly light-footed manner. I don't
+suppose you actually do it to make me feel my helplessness, but it has
+that effect. Do sit down! you are not a bird. And don't, for pity's
+sake, look patient! If there is one thing I cannot abide, it is to see
+people look patient when I insult them. If I had only known--but John
+Montfort always did like to thwart me, it's his nature--if I had only
+known, I say, that those brats of yours were going away, I need not have
+set up a menagerie of my own. It's too late now, the creature's coming."
+
+"What do you mean, Mrs. Peyton?" asked Margaret, always prepared for any
+whim of her whimsical neighbor. "Are you setting up a dog too?"
+
+"No! nothing half so comfortable as a dog. A fox, or wolf, or hyena, or
+something of that kind. Don't be stupid, Margaret; I am not up to
+explanations to-day. A companion, simpleton! A Miss Fox or Miss Wolfe, I
+can't remember which. I don't _think_ it was Miss Hyena, but it might
+be. It's an unusual name, but she is recommended as an unusual person."
+
+"Mrs. Peyton! you said you never would try it again. And you know I am
+always ready to come and read to you."
+
+"I know you are a little Fra Angelico angel, with your halo laid in your
+top bureau drawer among your collars, for fear people should see it; but
+I have a little scrap of conscience about me somewhere,--not much, only
+about a saltspoonful,--and if you came every day it would get up and
+worry me, and I can't be worried. Besides, the doctor ordered it,
+positively."
+
+"Doctor Flower? has he been out again?"
+
+"Yes, he came on Monday. I thought I was going to die, and wanted him to
+see how prettily I should do it. I'll never send for him again; he
+always tells me to get up and do things. Tiresome man! I told him I was
+perfectly exhausted by simply listening to him for half an hour. He
+replied by ordering this Miss Fox, or whoever she is. I am to try her
+for a month; I sha'n't probably keep her a week."
+
+"A nurse?"
+
+"No, not a trained nurse. She means to be one, goes to the hospital in
+the autumn. He thinks she has a gift, or something. I detest people with
+a gift. Probably she has a squint, too. You will have to receive her
+when she comes, Margaret, and take the edge off her. I fancy her
+unendurable, but I promised to try; I really must be going to die, I am
+growing so amiable. Which of my gems do you want? I am going to make my
+will this time. You needn't laugh, Margaret Montfort."
+
+"I was laughing at your dying of amiability, Mrs. Peyton!" said
+Margaret. "When is this young lady--I suppose she is young, if she is
+going to study nursing--when is she coming?"
+
+"To-morrow, I believe; or is it to-day? where is the note? Tuesday! Is
+this Tuesday? It cannot be."
+
+"Yes, this is Tuesday, and the three o'clock train--I suppose that is
+the train she will come by--must be in by this time. Hark! there are
+wheels this moment. Can she be coming now, Mrs. Peyton?"
+
+"My dear, it would be exactly like the conception I have formed of her.
+Go down and see her, will you, Margaret? Tell her I have a headache, or
+Asiatic cholera, or anything you like. I cannot possibly see her to-day.
+Her name is Fox--or Wolfe, I can't remember which. Bless you, child! you
+save my life. Show her the Calico Room. Hand me the amethyst rope before
+you go; I must compose my nerves."
+
+With a smile and a sigh, Margaret ran down-stairs, and met the newcomer
+on the doorstep. A tall, pale, grave-looking girl, with deep-set blue
+eyes, and smooth bands of brown hair--a rather remarkable-looking
+person, Margaret thought.
+
+"Miss Fox?" she said, hurriedly, holding out her hand. "Oh, how do you
+do? Pray come in. Mrs. Peyton asked me to receive you,--I am a friend
+and neighbor,--and show you your room and make you comfortable. She has
+a bad headache, and does not feel able to welcome you herself."
+
+She led the way into the dining-room, and rang the bell. "You will have
+lunch?" she said, "or would you rather have tea?"
+
+"Tea, please," said the stranger; and her voice had a deep, musical
+note, that fell pleasantly on Margaret's ear.
+
+"I am sorry Mrs. Peyton is unable to see me. Is it a real headache, or
+doesn't she want to?"
+
+Margaret colored and hesitated. The blue eyes looked straight into hers
+with a compelling gaze; a gleam of comprehension seemed to lurk in their
+depths. Margaret was absolutely truthful, and, consequently, was
+sometimes at a loss when speaking of her invalid friend.
+
+"Doctor Flower told me somewhat about her," Miss Fox went on. "He
+thinks--he wants me to rouse her to effort."
+
+She spoke so quietly, her whole air was one of such calm and repose,
+that Margaret looked at her wonderingly.
+
+[Illustration: "MARGARET DID THE HONORS, STILL FEELING VERY SHY."]
+
+"If Doctor Flower has explained the case to you," she said, at last,
+"you probably know more about it than I do. Mrs. Peyton often seems to
+suffer a great deal. She is fanciful, too, no doubt, at times; I
+suppose most invalids are."
+
+"I have just been staying with a woman who had had both feet cut off by
+a train," said Miss Fox, tranquilly. "She was not fanciful."
+
+It was a relief when the tea came. Margaret did the honors, still
+feeling very shy, she could not tell why, before this grave person, who
+could not be more than a year or two older than herself.
+
+"Have you come far to-day, Miss Fox?" she asked, for the sake of saying
+something. The stranger put her head on one side, and gave her a quaint
+look. "Any addition to one's personal menagerie is always interesting,"
+she said; "but one has one's favorites in the Zoo. If it is not taking a
+liberty--why Fox?"
+
+Margaret started, and blushed violently. "I _beg_ your pardon," she
+said. "Mrs. Peyton was not sure--she could not remember--is it Miss
+Wolfe, then? I hope you will forgive me, Miss Wolfe!"
+
+"Please don't," said Miss Wolfe. She smiled for the first time, and
+Margaret thought she had never seen so sweet a smile. "It is not your
+fault that I am philologically quadruped, surely. So long as I am not
+called Zebra, I really don't mind. I always associate Zebra with Zany,
+don't you know? they were in my Alphabet together. But you were saying
+something which I was rude enough to interrupt."
+
+"I only asked if you had come far."
+
+"Not very far, if you put it in miles; only from New York; if you mean
+by impressions, a thousand leagues. It is at least that from that
+maelstrom to this quiet green place. How should one have nerves in a
+place like this? To sit here in peace and turn slowly into a
+lettuce--that would be the natural thing; but life is not natural, if
+you have observed."
+
+Margaret laughed. "Mrs. Peyton is certainly not in the least like a
+lettuce; I don't know whether you see any signs of the change in me; I
+have only been here two years, though."
+
+Miss Wolfe surveyed her critically. "N--no!" she said, slowly. "I see
+nothing indicating lettuce--as yet. You are cool and green--no offence,
+I hope! I pay you one of the highest compliments I know of when I call
+you green; it is the color of rest and harmony; cool and green enough,
+and pleasantly wavy in your lines, but you have too much expression as
+yet, far too much. Placidity--absence of emotion--that is what
+superinduces the lettuce habit." She waved her hand gracefully, and
+seemed to fall into a reverie. Margaret surveyed her in growing wonder.
+
+At this moment Mrs. Peyton's bell rang violently; and presently a maid
+appeared to say that her mistress was feeling better, and would see the
+lady now. Miss Wolfe rose and glanced significantly at Margaret.
+"Curiosity overcomes distaste!" she said. "Are you coming?"
+
+"No," said Margaret. "I think I'd better not. I will slip away quietly.
+But I shall see you soon again. I will run over this evening, perhaps;
+and you must come over to Fernley whenever Mrs. Peyton can spare you. It
+is very near, just across the park."
+
+"Fernley!" repeated Miss Wolfe, pausing and looking at Margaret with an
+altered expression.
+
+"Fernley House, Mr. Montfort's place. That is where I live. Why--I have
+never introduced myself all this time, have I? I am Mr. Montfort's
+niece; my name is Montfort, too, Margaret Montfort."
+
+"Oh, my prophetic soul! my aunt!" exclaimed Miss Wolfe. "I beg your
+pardon; nothing of the sort. I am somewhat mad at times. Good morning,
+Miss Montfort; I am glad to know you. To be continued in our next!"
+
+She nodded, kissed her hand gravely to Margaret, and turning, followed
+the maid up-stairs.
+
+Margaret looked after her for a moment in amazement. "What a _very_
+extraordinary girl!" she said. "She seemed to know my name. I wonder
+how."
+
+She paused, shook her head, then went soberly home across the park,
+wondering how the new venture would turn out.
+
+[Illustration: "AT THIS MOMENT POLLY APPEARED RED-CHEEKED AND
+BREATHLESS."]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+AN ARRIVAL
+
+
+"What can the dogs be barking at, Elizabeth?" asked Margaret, looking up
+from the table-cloth she was examining. "I'm afraid they have got a
+squirrel again."
+
+"I thought I heard the sound of wheels, Miss," said the sedate
+Elizabeth, who had just entered, her arms full of shining damask. "Just
+as I was coming up the stairs, Miss Margaret. I told Polly run and see
+who it was, and send 'em away if they was a tramp. It do be mostly
+tramps, these days; Frances says she'll poison the next one, Miss, but
+she always feeds 'em so as they go off and send all their friends."
+
+At this moment Polly appeared, red-cheeked and breathless. A gentleman
+was below, asking for Mr. Montfort, and she couldn't find Mr. Montfort
+nowhere in the house; so then he said could he see Miss Margaret?
+
+"Is it any one I know, Polly?" asked Margaret.
+
+"I don't know, Miss Marget; I niver see him. A lame gentleman with a
+crutch; he looks just lovely!" added Polly, with effusion.
+
+"Miss Margaret didn't ask you how he looked, Polly!" said Elizabeth,
+severely. "You let your tongue run away with you."
+
+"Tell him I will be down directly, Polly," said Margaret.
+
+"Now, Miss Margaret, do you think you'd better?" asked Elizabeth. "If
+it's not a tramp--"
+
+"Indeed, and he's no tramp!" broke in Polly, indignantly. "He's a
+gentleman, if ever I see one, Miss Margaret; and him in lovely white
+clothes and all, just like young Mr. Pennyfeather as was here last
+year."
+
+"Polly, will you learn to speak when you are spoken to, and not
+interrupt your elders?" demanded Elizabeth. "If he's not a tramp, I was
+saying, Miss Margaret, he's likely an agent of some kind, and why
+should you be annoyed, with all the linen to go over? He can call again,
+most likely."
+
+Elizabeth spoke with some feeling under her grave and restrained words.
+The examination of the house-linen was to her mind the most important
+event of the week, and already they had been disturbed once by a sudden
+incursion of the dogs, bringing a dead squirrel.
+
+"No, Elizabeth," said Margaret, "I must go down. Tell the gentleman I
+will be down directly, Polly; show him into the library, please. Dear
+Elizabeth, you can finish the table-cloths just as well without me. You
+always did it before I came."
+
+"Not at all, Miss," said Elizabeth, with patient resignation; "you'll
+find me in the sewing-room, Miss, whenever you are ready for me. It's
+best that you should go over the things yourself, and then you will be
+satisfied, and no mistakes made."
+
+Margaret nodded, with a little inward sigh over the rigidity of
+Elizabeth's ideal of a perfect housekeeper; patted her hair hurriedly to
+make sure that it was neat, confirmed the pat by a glance in the
+mirror, and went quickly down-stairs.
+
+A tall, slender figure rose, leaning on a stick, as she entered the
+library. "What a sad face!" was Margaret's first thought; but, when the
+stranger smiled, it changed to "What a beautiful one!"
+
+"Cousin Margaret?" said the young man, inquiringly.
+
+"Yes--I am Margaret," said the girl. "But who--oh! are you--can it be
+Peggy's Hugh? It is, I see. Oh, how do you do, Cousin? I am so very,
+very glad to see you."
+
+They shook hands cordially, scanning each other with earnest and
+friendly eyes.
+
+"I should have known you, of course, from your picture, if not from
+Peggy's ardent descriptions," said Hugh Montfort.
+
+"And I ought to have known you, surely," cried Margaret; "only, not
+knowing you were in this part of the country, you see--"
+
+"Uncle John did not get my letter? It ought to have reached him some
+days ago. I was coming on to Cambridge, and wrote as soon as I started.
+No wonder you were surprised, being hailed as cousin by an unheralded
+vagabond with a stick."
+
+"Oh, why do you stand?" cried Margaret. "Sit down, Cousin Hugh; to think
+of its being really you; I have wanted to see and know you ever
+since--oh, for ever so long. Hark! there comes Uncle John now. How
+delighted he will be!"
+
+"Margaret, my dear!" called Mr. Montfort from the hall. "I have just had
+a letter--most surprising thing--from--hallo! what's all this? Hugh, my
+dear fellow, I'm delighted to see you. Got here before your letter, eh?
+How did that happen? Never mind, so long as you are here now. Well,
+well, well! sit down here, and let me look at you. This is a pleasure
+indeed. Your father's eyes; I should know them in a Chinaman; not that
+you look like a Chinaman. How are they all at home? How's your father?
+When did you leave home? Have you had anything to eat? What would you
+like? Margaret, my dear, get Hugh something to eat, he's probably
+starved."
+
+Hugh laughingly disclaimed starvation, and begged to wait till their
+tea-time. "I am not hungry, truly I am not," he said. "There is so much
+to say, too, isn't there, Uncle John? Father is very well and hearty. I
+have a pipe for you in my bag. I brought a bag with me; do you suppose
+you could put me up for a few days, Uncle?"
+
+Reassured by Mr. Montfort's earnest assurance that he should keep him
+all summer, Hugh leaned back in his chair, and looked about him with
+eager eyes.
+
+"This is the library!" he said. "Uncle John, ever since I learned to
+read, one of my dreams has been to see this room. Father has always told
+us about it, and where his favorite books were, and where you all used
+to sit when you came here to read."
+
+He rose and, crossing the room, took a book from a shelf without a
+moment's hesitation. "Here is the 'Morte d'Arthur,'" he said; "you see I
+knew where to find it. And Father used to sit on top of that
+stepladder."
+
+"So he did!" cried Mr. Montfort, delighted. "I can see him now, with one
+leg curled under him, eating apples and shouting about Lancelot and
+Tristram."
+
+"And you sat in the great copper coal-hod--ah! there it is!--and read
+Froissart, the great folio with the colored prints. I see it, just in
+the place father described."
+
+"Uncle John," said Margaret, reproachfully, "you never told me that you
+sat in the coal-scuttle. I know papa's perch, the mantel-piece, because
+he could get at the little Shakespeares from there."
+
+Mr. Montfort laughed.
+
+"Leave me some remnant of dignity, Meg," he said. "How can you expect me
+to confess that I sat in the coal-scuttle? Have you no reverence for
+gray hairs?"
+
+"Oh, a very great deal, dear Uncle; but there were no gray hairs in the
+coal-scuttle days; and my only regret about you is the not having known
+you when you were a boy."
+
+"Horrid monkey, I have been given to understand," said her uncle,
+lightly. "Go on, Hugh; tell us some more of the things that Jim--your
+father--remembers. Old Jim! it's a great shame that he never comes to
+look up the old place himself."
+
+"It is indeed, sir!" said Hugh. "I've always thought so, and now that I
+see the place--oh, I shall send him, that's all, as soon as ever I get
+home. There are the Indian clubs; oh, the carved one--is it true that
+that was given to Grandfather Montfort by a Fiji chief, or was the Pater
+fooling us? He sometimes makes up things, he acknowledges, just for the
+fun of it."
+
+"True enough, I believe!" said Mr. Montfort, taking down the great club,
+covered from end to end with strange and delicate carving.
+
+"Did he ever tell you how near he came to breaking my head with this
+club? He may have forgotten; I have not. We used to keep it in our room,
+the great nursery up-stairs, Margaret; you must show that to Hugh by and
+by. I woke up one night, and was afraid the crow that I was taming in
+the back garden might be hungry. I got out of the window and shinned
+down the spout. The crow was all right; but when I came back, Jim woke
+up, and took me for a burglar, and went for me with the club, thinking
+it the chance of his life. I was only half-way through the bars when he
+caught me a crack--I can hear my skull rattle with it now."
+
+"Oh, Uncle John! and you held on?"
+
+"My dear, I held on; it would have been rather unfortunate for me to let
+go at the moment. I sung out, of course; and when I got through I fell
+upon my friend James, and Roger had to wake up and come and drag us from
+under the bed before he could separate us. Sweet boys! do you and your
+brothers indulge in these little endearments, Hugh? Jim was a glorious
+fighter."
+
+Hugh laughed. "Jim and George used to have pretty lively scraps
+sometimes," he said. "It wasn't so much in my line, but I took it out in
+airs, I fancy. The poor fellows couldn't punch my head, and it must have
+been hard lines for them sometimes. As for Max and Peter, they are
+twins, you know. I doubt if either of them knows exactly which is
+himself and which is the other, so they don't have real scraps, just
+puppy-play, rolling over and over and pounding each other."
+
+"Oh, what good times they would have with Basil and Susan D.!" cried
+Margaret. "What a pity they cannot know one another, all these dear
+boys!"
+
+"So it is! so it is!" said Mr. Montfort, heartily. "We must bring it
+about, one of these days; we must surely bring it about. Fond of dogs,
+Hugh? I've got a pair of nice puppies here; like to go and see them
+before tea, or shall Margaret show you your room?"
+
+Hugh elected in favor of the puppies, and uncle and nephew walked off
+together, well content. Margaret looked after them, thinking what a
+noble pair they made. Hugh walked lame, to be sure, yet not
+ungracefully, she thought; and though slender, still his shoulders were
+square and manly.
+
+Then her thoughts turned to matters of practical hospitality, and she
+sped to the kitchen, to tell the good news to Frances.
+
+"Oh, Frances, Mr. Hugh has come, my Uncle Jim's son; Miss Peggy's
+brother, Frances! He has come all the way from Ohio, and I want you to
+give him the very best supper that ever was, please!"
+
+Now Frances had that moment discovered that her best porcelain saucepan
+was cracked; she therefore answered with some asperity. "Indeed, then,
+Miss Margaret, what is good enough for Mr. Montfort must be good enough
+for his nephew or any other young gentleman. My supper is all planned,
+and I can't be fashed with new things at this time of day."
+
+"Now, Frances, don't be cross, that's a dear! I want you to see Mr.
+Hugh. Look, there he is this minute, crossing the green with Uncle
+John."
+
+Frances looked; looked again, long and earnestly; then straightway she
+fell into a great bustle. "Dear me, Miss Margaret, run away now, that's
+a good young lady. How can I be doing, and you all about the kitchen
+like a ball of string? He's lame, the beautiful young gentleman; you
+never told me he was lame. I did think as how we might be doing with the
+cold fowl, and French fried potatoes and muffins, but that's nothing to
+show the heart. Run away now, Miss, and if you was going up-stairs, be
+so good as send me Polly. She's idling her time away, I'll be bound, and
+not a soul to help me with my salad and croquettes. Dear! dear! I be
+pestered out of my life, mostly."
+
+"Don't kill us, Frances!" cried Margaret, as she ran away, laughing. "I
+really think the cold fowl will be quite enough."
+
+Frances deigned no reply; and Margaret hastened up-stairs, to tell the
+good news to Elizabeth. Elizabeth was in the sewing-room, waiting, with
+plaintive dignity, till Margaret should please to go over the rest of
+the table-cloths; but at the tidings of the advent of a dear and honored
+guest, she dropped thimble and scissors, and rose hastily, declaring
+that the Blue Room must be cleaned instantly, and put in order for Mr.
+Montfort's nephew.
+
+"But you swept it yesterday, Elizabeth, and I dusted all the ornaments
+myself, and put them back in place. It only needs a few fresh flowers, I
+am sure," said Margaret.
+
+Elizabeth turned on her a face of affectionate reproach. "Miss Margaret,
+you don't mean that. Mr. Montfort's own nephew, and the room not touched
+to-day! I'll go this minute and see to it. But if you would pick out the
+towels you think he would like best, Miss, please; gentlemen do be that
+fussy about towels, as there's no pleasing some of them, though being
+Mr. Montfort's nephew, likely he'll be different. Give him the finest
+huckaback, and Mr. Montfort is easy satisfied, so long as there's no
+fringes. He never could abide fringe to his towels, and there's no
+person with sense as wouldn't agree with him. And if you would see to
+the bureau-scarf and the flowers, Miss Margaret--there! she's gone, and
+not a word about what table-napkins I am to use! I like to see them
+young, so I do, but they're terrible heedless. I expect I'd best put the
+finest out, for Mr. Montfort's nephew."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+UNCLE JOHN'S IDEA
+
+
+"Margaret, I have an idea!"
+
+"I am so glad, Uncle John; your ideas are always pleasant ones,
+especially when they make your eyes twinkle. Is this about more dogs?"
+
+"No, no, child. Do you think I have no soul except for dogs? I was
+thinking--why, you see,--this is a delightful fellow, this nephew of
+mine."
+
+"Isn't he, Uncle? I never saw a more interesting person, I think. How
+well he talks, and how much he knows!"
+
+"Yes, and right-minded, too; singularly right-minded. Jim has done well,
+certainly, by his children, and is very fortunate in them. H'm! yes. Who
+would have thought, thirty years ago, that things would have turned out
+in this way? Old Jim!"
+
+Here Mr. Montfort fell into a brown study, and only roused himself after
+some time, to ask Margaret what were her orders for the day.
+
+"Why, Uncle John! And you have never told me your idea."
+
+"Bless me! so I haven't. Age, my dear child, age! Such a fine idea as it
+is, too. Listen, then! as I was saying, Hugh Montfort is a charming
+fellow."
+
+"Yes, Uncle John."
+
+"And Peggy Montfort is a charming girl."
+
+"Certainly she is. Dear Peggy!"
+
+"We may not unreasonably infer, therefore, that other members of the
+family may be charming also. Now, my idea is this. Peggy is not going
+home this summer; why would it not be a good plan to send for her
+nearest sister--Jean, isn't she?--to come here and meet her brother and
+sister, and all have a good time together? What do you say?"
+
+"Uncle John! I say that you are the very cleverest person in the world,
+as well as the dearest."
+
+"A little house-party, you see," Mr. Montfort went on, beaming with
+pleasure at the delight that shone in Margaret's face. "And--we shall
+want another lad, it seems to me, possibly two lads. Why not ask young
+Merryweather and his brother for a couple of weeks? You liked the young
+fellow?"
+
+"Oh, certainly, Uncle John!" Margaret suddenly became interested in
+tying up the Crimson Rambler that was straying over the verandah-rail.
+"Yes, indeed, I thought him very nice."
+
+"And you like the idea? You don't think it would make too much work, too
+much responsibility, my dear little niece?"
+
+Margaret was still busy with the rose, which proved quite refractory,
+but it was clear that she thought nothing of the sort. It would be
+altogether delightful, she said; and as for care--why, she had been
+longing for something to take her mind off missing the children, and--
+
+"And to see Jean, too!" she cried, suddenly emerging from the rose-vine,
+with an unusual flush on her delicate cheek, and her gray eyes shining;
+"I have always wanted so to know the other Peggypods, as you call them,
+Uncle John; and now to have Hugh here, and Jean coming--oh, Uncle John,
+you are _so_ dear!"
+
+"Then that is all right," said Uncle John; "and I will go and telegraph
+to old Jim and tell him to send the little girl along. Shall we tell
+Peggy, or leave it for a surprise, eh? What do you say?"
+
+"The surprise, by all means; Peggy loves a surprise, you know. Oh, how
+can I wait a whole week to see her?"
+
+Mr. Montfort looked with pleasure at Margaret's sparkling eyes and rosy
+cheeks. He had hit on the right thing, evidently. Young people wanted
+young people; didn't he remember well enough--here he fell into a muse
+again, and said "Rose!" to himself two or three times. Perhaps he was
+thinking of the Crimson Rambler.
+
+"Now, about rooms!" he said, waking up after a few minutes. "And we must
+get more help, Margaret. Frances--"
+
+"I'll tell Elizabeth first, I think," said Margaret, thoughtfully. "She
+has a way of breaking things gradually to Frances, and taking the edge
+off them; she is really very clever about it."
+
+"Elizabeth is a treasure," said Mr. Montfort. "So is Frances, of
+course, a treasure--only with dragon attachment."
+
+"And as for the room, Uncle John--let me see! Peggy's own room is big
+enough for her and Jean, and I am quite sure they would like to be
+together. Then there are the two little east rooms that are very
+pleasant--or we could give the two Mr. Merryweathers the big nursery."
+
+"That's it!" said Mr. Montfort, decidedly. "Boys like the nursery; it
+was made for boys. Nothing breakable in it except the crockery, and
+plenty of room for skylarking. Yes, my dear, get the nursery ready for
+them--if they come!" he added. "We are counting our chickens in fine
+style, Margaret. Suppose we find that Jean is in San Francisco and the
+Merryweathers in Alaska."
+
+"Oh, they won't be!" cried Margaret. "They wouldn't have the heart to
+spoil our party. I have read about house-parties all my life, and to
+think that I am going to have one! Why, it is a fairy tale, Uncle John."
+
+"So it is, my dear; so it is. You are the fairy princess, and I am the
+old magician--or the bear, if you like better, that used to be a prince
+when he was young."
+
+"The king that used to be a bear would be more like it," said Margaret,
+gaily. "How about John Strong, Mr. Montfort?"
+
+"John Strong was a useful fellow!" said her uncle, gravely. "I had a
+regard for John; he is getting lazy now, and rheumatic besides, and he
+neglects his roses shamefully, but there are still points about John.
+Bring me my old hat, and the pruning-shears, and you shall see him in
+the flesh, Miss Margaret."
+
+Margaret enjoyed nothing more than what she called a "rose-potter" with
+her uncle. He was never weary of tending his favorite flowers, and
+handled and spoke of them as if they were real persons. Coming now to
+join him, with the great shears, and the faithful old straw hat in
+which, as John Strong the gardener, she had first seen the beloved
+uncle, she found him bending over a beautiful "La France" with anxious
+looks.
+
+"My dear, this lovely person is not looking well to-day. Something is
+wrong with her."
+
+"Oh, Uncle, I am sorry. She had her bath last night, I know, for I gave
+it to her myself. What do you think is the matter? To me, she looks as
+silvery-lovely as usual; but you have a special pair of eyes, I know,
+for roses."
+
+"I fear--I think--ah! here he is, the beast! Yes, Margaret; a
+caterpillar, curled up--see him! Right in the heart of this exquisite
+bud. No wonder the whole plant has sickened; she is very sensitive, La
+France. There, Madame, he is gone. Now, a little shower of quassia, just
+to freshen you up; eh? See, Margaret, how gratefully the beautiful
+creature responds. Now, Jack here,"--he passed on to a Jacqueminot rose,
+covered with splendid crimson blossoms,--"Jack is thick-skinned, quite a
+rhinoceros by contrast with La France or the Bride. Here
+are--one--two--five--my patience! here are seven aphides on his poor
+leaves, and yet he has not curled up so much as the edge of one. Take
+him for all in all, Jack is as good a fellow as I know. Responsive,
+cordial, ready for anything--not expecting to have the whole world
+waiting on him, as some of these people do--ah, Hugh! Finished your
+letters? That's right!"
+
+Hugh Montfort, who had come in unobserved, was leaning on his stick,
+watching them with some amusement.
+
+"Who is this Jack, if I may ask, Uncle John? He seems to be a rather
+remarkable sort of chap."
+
+Mr. Montfort looked slightly confused. "Only my fantastic way of
+speaking of my roses," he said. "They seem like real people to me, and I
+am apt to call them by their names. A shame, to be sure, to take such
+liberties with the General. Permit me to present you in due form! M. le
+General Jacqueminot, I have the honor to present to you Mr. Hugh
+Montfort, my nephew, and--may I say admirer? The General is sensitive to
+admiration."
+
+"You may indeed!" said Hugh, bowing gravely to the splendid plant.
+"General, your most obedient servant! I have known others of your
+family, some of them, I may say, intimately, and I can truly say that I
+never saw a finer specimen of the race."
+
+The General glowed responsive, and Mr. Montfort glowed too, with
+pleasure. "Fond of roses?" he said; "that's good! that's good! why,
+boy, you seem to have a great many of my tastes. How's that, hey? your
+father never knew one flower from another."
+
+There was a very tender light in Hugh's eyes as he returned his uncle's
+look. "When I was a little chap, sir," he said, "my father used to tell
+me a good deal about you and Uncle Roger, the two best fellows he ever
+knew. I used to think--and I think still--that if I could be like them
+in anything I should do well; so I took to flowers because you loved
+them, and to books because they were Uncle Roger's delight. The big
+things seemed pretty big, but I thought the little ones would be better
+than nothing."
+
+The glow deepened on John Montfort's cheek, and the light in his eyes;
+in Margaret's eyes the quick tears sprang; and with one impulse she and
+her uncle held out their hands. Hugh grasped them both, and there was a
+moment of silence that was better than speech. Hugh was the first to
+break it. "I have two new friends!" he said, in his sweet, cordial
+voice. "This day is better than I dreamed, and that is saying a good
+deal. But now, go on with the roses, Uncle John, please; there are
+several kinds here that I do not know. What is this cream-colored
+beauty?"
+
+"Why, that, Hugh, is my special pride. That is a sport of my own
+raising; Victoria, I call her. She took a first prize at the flower show
+last year. We were proud, weren't we, Margaret?"
+
+"Indeed we were, Uncle John. Think, Hugh, she had two hundred and seven
+buds and blossoms when we sent her. She looked like a snow-drift at
+sunrise; didn't you, Victoria?"
+
+"Could you send a plant of this size without injury? Ah! I see; pot
+sunk. Well, she is a marvel of beauty, certainly. I have some slips
+coming from home for you, Uncle; the box ought to be here to-day or
+to-morrow. There are one or two things that I think you may not have.
+But you have a noble collection; what a joy a rose-garden is!"
+
+"Mine used to be the greatest pleasure I had," said Mr. Montfort, "until
+I took to cultivating another kind of flower, the human variety." He
+pinched Margaret's ear affectionately, and she returned the pinch with
+a confidential pat on his arm.
+
+"For many years," he continued, "I lived something of a hermit life,
+Hugh. There were reasons--no matter now--at all events I preferred
+solitude, and save for my good aunt, your great-aunt Faith, about whom
+Margaret will have a great deal to tell you, I saw practically no one
+from year's end to year's end. Very foolish, as I am now aware;
+criminally foolish. I have got beyond all that, thank Heaven! During
+this secluded period, my garden, and my roses in particular, were my
+chief resource, next to my books. Indeed, in summer time the books had
+to take the second place, and it should be so. You remember Bacon, Hugh:
+'God Almighty first planted a garden; it is the purest of human
+pleasures,' etc. I used to know that essay by heart. In summer time, the
+Great Book, sir, the Book of Nature, is opened for us, spread open by a
+divine hand; it were thankless as well as stupid to refuse to study it.
+So I studied my garden first, and after that, my fields and woods and
+pastures. Great reading in a broken pasture! When I wanted human
+companionship--apart from that sweet and gracious influence of her who
+was my second mother--I found it in my friends between the covers, who
+were always ready to talk or be silent, as my mood inclined. I thought I
+did well enough with Shakespeare and Montaigne and the rest; I have
+learned now that one living voice, speaking in love and kindness, is
+worth them all for 'human nature's daily food.'"
+
+Margaret listened, wondering. Her uncle had seldom said so much about
+his own life even to her, his housemate and intimate companion these two
+years; while Hugh, without a word, simply from some power of silent
+sympathy that lay in him, had drawn out this frank speech a few hours
+after their first meeting. She wondered; and then asked herself, why
+should she wonder, since she herself felt the same drawing toward her
+new-found relative. "This must be what it is like to have a brother!"
+she said to herself; and felt her heart quicken with a new sense of
+comfort and happiness. "Such a pleasant world!" said Margaret.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+A VISION
+
+
+Hugh Montfort was having a delightful morning. He had been at Fernley
+three days now, and already knew every nook and corner on the place.
+With his uncle's consent he had appropriated for his own use the little
+summer-house, covered with clematis and York and Lancaster roses, that
+looked out over the south wall of the garden, and away toward the sea.
+Here he had brought his desk (an old one belonging to his father, that
+Margaret had found in the garret), and had tacked up a shelf for a few
+favorite books; and here he was sitting, on the fairest of June days,
+with a volume of Greek plays open before him, considering the landscape,
+and enjoying himself thoroughly.
+
+Hugh was no less delighted with his uncle and cousin than they with him.
+Always and necessarily a student and observer rather than a man of
+action, he felt an instant sympathy with the man and woman of books and
+thought. He loved dearly his own family, active, strenuous people,
+overflowing with strength and energy; but he often felt himself out of
+place among them, and reproached himself with the frequent languor and
+headache that so often kept him from sharing in their full-throated,
+whole-hearted mirth. He had graduated from a Western university, and was
+now going to study for a post-graduate degree at Harvard; he was tired,
+and the quiet at Fernley, the sense of perfect congeniality with his
+uncle, and Margaret's serene face and musical, even-toned voice, were
+like balm to his over-strung nerves.
+
+This morning his head ached, and he did not feel like study. The book
+open before him gave him a kind of moral support, but he did hardly more
+than glance at it from time to time. His eyes roved far and wide over
+the lovely prospect that lay outside, broad stretches of sunny, rolling
+meadows, dotted with clumps of trees, and framed in the arched opening
+of the summer-house. This summer-house had been a favorite playhouse of
+his father and uncles in their boyhood. He knew a dozen stories about
+it; and now his eyes turned to the lattice walls, carved everywhere with
+the familiar initials, and the devices of the four brothers Montfort:
+John's egg and Jim's oyster, Roger's book and Dick's ship. What glorious
+boys they must have been! This was where they used to play Curtius, and
+Monte Cristo, and all manner of games; leaping over the wall into the
+meadow below, deep in fern and daisies, or swinging themselves down by
+the hanging branches of the old willow that peeped round one side of the
+arch. Glorious boys! And then Hugh thought of his own brothers, and said
+"Good old Jim!" under his breath.
+
+Thus musing, he was aware of a voice under his latticed bower, as of
+some one in the meadow below; a woman's voice, calm and melodious as
+Margaret's own, but with a deeper and graver note in it.
+
+"What did he want then, a Lovely Person? Did he want her to love him?
+Well, she did, ardently; so that is all right."
+
+A rustling followed, and the voice spoke again:
+
+"No, he mustn't kiss her; that is not permitted. He may lie at her feet,
+and gaze at her with his large, brown eyes, Philip her King, but no
+kissing. She is surprised at his suggesting such a thing."
+
+Hugh sat mute, in great perplexity. What interview was this, at which he
+was unwillingly assisting? Were two rustic lovers below, taking their
+ease under the old willow, whose twisted roots made an admirable seat,
+as he knew? And, if so, should he be guilty of the greater offence by
+keeping still, or by going away? He knew every board in the summer-house
+floor, and there was not one that would not betray him with a loud
+creak; on the whole, it seemed best to sit still; after all, they need
+never know that any one was there. Hark! the young woman--the voice was
+certainly young--was speaking again:
+
+"He was perfectly beautiful, that was what he was. Yes! he had the
+loveliest eyes in the world, without any exception; and his ears were a
+dream of perfection, and, as for his coat and waistcoat, words fail her
+to describe them. Now if he will sit still, she will tell him
+something; no, not on her dress; a little farther off, a precious
+Poppet!"
+
+A curious sound followed; something between a loud sneeze and an equally
+loud yawn, accompanied with lively and prolonged rustling of the willow
+branches; but no articulate word from her companion. She seemed
+satisfied, however, for she went on,--a delightful quality of voice;
+Hugh felt it creeping in his ears like music:
+
+"That is right. Yes, she understands perfectly; she knows all about it,
+and she loves him to distraction. Well, Lovely One, that Lady is a Cat;
+that is what she is."
+
+Another sneeze and yawn, louder than before.
+
+"Precisely; you think so, too. A cat! 'cat, puss, tit, grimalkin, tabby,
+brindle; whoosh!' was he fond of Dickens, a Pink-nosed Pearl? She is no
+more sick than you are, Beloved. She has been, no doubt, and now she has
+forgotten how to be anything else, but she is liable to find out. Your
+Aunt, beloved, proposes to put this lady through a Course of Sprouts.
+Tu-whit! your Aunt has spoken. We may also remark, in this connection
+only, tu-whoo!"
+
+Her companion's only reply to this speech was a loud breathing, which
+might be caused by emotion, or by heat and fatigue; at all events, he
+did not seem inclined to speak. A thought flashed through Hugh's
+mind,--the man might be a deaf-mute. What a terrible affliction! It was
+bad enough to be lame; but to be deaf, and in company with a girl with a
+voice like that! Hark! she was speaking again, slowly and meditatively,
+rather as if talking to herself than to some one else:
+
+"Your Aunt has not got her plan entirely laid out yet. She knows what
+must finally happen: the patient must be got out of that house, and away
+on a sea-voyage; but there will have to be various occurrences first.
+Your Aunt's ingenuity, Adonis, will be put to a severe strain. At
+present your Aunt is alone, and in difficulties. Many oxen come about
+her, fat bulls of Bashan compass her on every side, as the Scripture
+hath it; you are not acquainted with the Scripture, Adonis, so there is
+no earthly use in your putting on that look of keen intelligence. But
+there may be balm in Gilead; I think Gilead may be in this very place
+above our head, my Popolorum Tibby. Now, what is the matter with him?"
+
+At this moment a sound was heard,--a bark, distant at first, but coming
+momently nearer; a loud, joyous, inquiring bark. It was answered from
+below by a sound combining bark, sneeze, and snort; there was a violent
+shaking of the branches, and, next moment, a brown and white setter
+sprang out from under the wall, and stood at gaze. Another instant, and
+a second dog, his exact image, appeared on the brow of the slope,
+careering toward him. There was a rapturous duet of barking and
+sneezing, and then the two swept away over the brow, and were gone.
+
+"That is the most heartless puppy I ever saw," the voice said, slowly.
+"A woodchuck, I suppose. 'Twas ever thus. The moral is, don't make love
+to strange puppies, however beautiful; but he was lovely, and he
+understood me. No more of him! The question is, what should I find at
+the top of this beanstalk--I should say, willow-tree? There is
+an--answer to--every question--if--you only ask it--quick enough!"
+
+The last words were spoken so low that Hugh did not catch their import.
+Alarmed, however, by the continued rustling of the willow branches, he
+rose hurriedly to his feet, and was about to steal away as quietly as
+might be; but at that moment a hand was laid on the coping of the
+wall,--a brown hand, slender but muscular; the next moment an arm
+followed, and a young woman swung herself across the opening, and,
+leaning on the wall, looked full in his face.
+
+It was the vision of an instant only; the lithe figure, the face full of
+careless power, the deep-set blue eyes, startling into black as they met
+his, while the slender brows met above them in angry amazement; then one
+hand reached back to the willow branch, the girl dropped from sight, and
+he heard her rustle from branch to branch, and then heard the light,
+swift sound of running feet through the fern, and dying away in the
+distance.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Is this a pleasant neighborhood, Margaret?" asked Hugh, as they sat on
+the verandah after dinner. "Have you any pleasant--a--friends, of your
+own age?"
+
+"None of my own age," said Margaret. "Indeed, our only near neighbor is
+Mrs. Peyton, an invalid lady, whom I go to see quite often. She is very
+charming, but--no, there is no one else; the places are large and
+scattered, you see, all about here. The next one on the other side
+belongs to Miss Desmond, and she is always abroad, and has not been here
+at all since I have."
+
+"You don't think she may have returned lately, without your knowing it?"
+
+"No, I am sure she cannot; I heard of her only a few days ago, in Egypt;
+Uncle John had a letter from her. Why do you ask, Hugh?"
+
+"Oh--idle curiosity; or curiosity, whether idle or not. And--there are
+no other young girls?"
+
+"None; that is why I missed Peggy and Rita so terribly, as I was telling
+you last night. Then the dear children came, and they were my comfort
+and joy; I shall have them again when the summer is over; happy day it
+will be when they come back. But, you see, having first the girls and
+then the children has rather spoiled Uncle John and me, and that is why
+it was so very particularly nice of you to come, Cousin Hugh."
+
+"Suppose we drop the 'cousin,' and be just Hugh and Margaret?" suggested
+her cousin. "I am used to having sisters about me, you know, and don't
+know how to get along without them; some day it may be 'Sister
+Margaret.' Should you mind?"
+
+Margaret colored high with pleasure, and again the foolish tears came
+into her eyes. "I have wanted a brother all my life!" she said, simply;
+and again Hugh's smile told her that he understood all about it. He was
+certainly a most wonderful person.
+
+They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes; then--"I did not tell
+the exact truth," said Margaret, "when I said there were no young people
+here. Just now it happens there is one, a newcomer, a girl of my own
+age."
+
+She paused. "Yes?" said Hugh, suggestively. "Some one you know?"
+
+"Yes--and no! I have met her once. She is a Miss Wolfe, who has come to
+be a sort of companion to Mrs. Peyton. A singular-looking girl, with a
+most interesting face. I want to see her again; and yet,--somehow,--I am
+rather afraid of her."
+
+"Is she formidable, this she-wolf?"
+
+"Not formidable, but--well, I don't know how to describe her. She
+impresses me as different from anybody I have ever seen. Wild is not the
+word; Rita was wild, but it was something totally different."
+
+"Peggy is wild, too," said Hugh, "wild as a mountain goat, or was,
+before you took her in hand, Margaret. Is this young lady like Peggy?"
+
+"Oh, not in the very least. She is not shy, not a bit; not shy, and yet
+not bold. She seems simply absolutely without self-consciousness; it is
+as if she said and did exactly what she felt like doing, with no thought
+as to whether it was--well, customary or not. I am afraid I am rather
+conventional, Cousin--I mean Hugh; not in thought, I hope, but--in
+temperament, perhaps. This girl strikes me very strangely; that is the
+only way I can describe her. Yet she attracted me strongly, the only
+time I saw her, which was the very day you came, by the way. I ought to
+have gone over to see her before this. I think I will go this evening,
+while you and Uncle John are having your after-supper smoke."
+
+"I think I would," said Hugh Montfort.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+ALI BABA
+
+
+Margaret went over duly that evening, meaning to be very friendly to the
+strange young woman; but it happened to be one of Mrs. Peyton's bad
+times, and she sent down word that she needed Miss Wolfe, and could not
+possibly spare her. Margaret left a civil message, and went home
+disappointed, and yet the least bit relieved: she had rather dreaded a
+long tete-a-tete with her new neighbor.
+
+"How absurd you are, Margaret Montfort," she said, severely, as she
+walked across the park. "Here you have been longing for a girl to talk
+to, and the moment one comes, you are seized with what Peggy calls 'the
+shyies,' just because she happens to be cut from a different pattern
+from your own."
+
+Hugh was on the verandah, waiting for her, and seemed really
+disappointed when he heard that she had not seen Miss Wolfe; that
+showed how wide and cordial his interest was, and how much thought he
+took for others, Margaret told herself. What could he care about the
+meeting of a cousin he had just begun to know with a girl whom he never
+had seen?
+
+Next day, however, she forgot all about Miss Wolfe, for the time being.
+Gerald and Philip Merryweather had accepted Mr. Montfort's invitation
+with amazing alacrity, and Jean had telegraphed her rapture of
+anticipation from Ohio. Uncle John and Hugh were left to their own
+devices, while she plunged, with Elizabeth and Frances and Polly, into
+intricacies of hospitable preparation. Stores must be ordered, linen
+examined, silver and china looked out. In regard to the silver, Margaret
+had an experience that showed her that, even after two years, she did
+not know all the resources of Fernley House. Her uncle called her into
+his study after breakfast, and handed her a key of curious pattern.
+"This is the key of the iron cupboard, Margaret," he said. Seeing her
+look of surprise, he added, "You surely know about the iron cupboard, my
+dear?"
+
+"No, Uncle John. I remember hearing Aunt Faith speak of something of the
+kind once, but I did not rightly understand, and, being shy then,--it
+was before I knew our Dear so well,--I did not like to ask."
+
+"Oh, there is no mystery, my child. No secret staircase this time, no
+ghosts in velvet jackets. But in a house like Fernley, that has been
+inhabited for many generations, there is necessarily an accumulation of
+certain kinds of things, above all, silver. We keep out all that an
+ordinary family would be likely to use, and the rest is stored in this
+safe cupboard, in case of fire or robbery. Very stupid of me not to have
+told my careful little housekeeper of this before. To tell the truth, I
+forget all about this hoard most of the time, and might not have thought
+of it now, if Elizabeth had not come to me with an important face and
+asked me if I did not think Miss Margaret ought to have the opportunity
+of putting out The Silver if she wished to do so, being as the house was
+to be full of company. That meant that Elizabeth herself wanted to
+display to the astonished eyes of Hugh and the Merryweather boys the
+resources of the house that she and Frances rule (on the whole, wisely),
+through you and me, their deputies and servants. I see no reason why the
+good souls should not be gratified do you?"
+
+"On the contrary, I see every reason why they, and I too, should be
+gratified. Uncle John, I am glad I did not know about it before. It is
+the most delightful thing about Fernley, that one never seems to come to
+the end of it. I thought I knew everything by this time, and here is
+another enchanting mystery; for say what you will, Uncle John, an iron
+cupboard full of old silver, that nobody knows about,--or hardly
+anybody,--_is_ a mystery. Now I am sure there are others, too; I shall
+never feel again that I know all about the house. Some day, when I am
+old and gray, I shall come upon another secret staircase, or a
+trap-door, or a hidden jewel-casket, or a lost will."
+
+"Why, as to jewel-caskets," said Mr. Montfort, smiling, "there is
+perhaps something that might be said; but as you say, it would never do
+to find out everything at once, May Margaret. Run away now, and examine
+your tea-kettles; there are about forty, if I remember rightly."
+
+"Uncle John! is there really a jewel-casket? What do you mean? There
+cannot be any more than those Aunt Faith had, surely."
+
+"Can't there?" said Mr. Montfort, with a provoking smile. "Doubtless you
+know best, my dear." And not another word would he say on the subject;
+but he told Margaret where to find the iron cupboard, and she ran off in
+such a flutter that Peggy would hardly have known her model and mentor.
+Old silver was one of Margaret's weak points; indeed, she had a strong
+feeling about heirlooms of every kind, and treasured carefully every
+scrap of paper even that had any association with past times.
+
+Seeing Hugh in the library, she called to him. "Hugh! come with me and
+see the Treasure Chamber of the Montforts. Don't you want to see the
+ancestral silver?"
+
+"Of course I do!" said Hugh, laying down his book and coming to join
+her. "Ancestral silver? My mother went to housekeeping with six
+teaspoons and a butter-knife, and thought herself rich. Uncle John
+wanted to send a trunkful of family silver, I have been told, but the
+Pater refused to be bothered with it. Poor Mother would have been glad
+enough of it, I fancy, but in those days he was masterful, and bent on
+roughing it, and would not hear of anything approaching luxury, or even
+convenience. Where is this wonderful treasury?"
+
+"Come, and you shall see. Uncle John has told me how to find it. Come
+through this door; here we are in his own study, you see. Now--let me
+see! I will light this lamp--for the cupboard is dark--while you look
+and find Inigo Jones."
+
+"Inigo Jones?"
+
+"Yes. A tall blue morocco quarto, about the middle of the fourth shelf
+of the bookcase behind Uncle John's desk. Ah! I see him!"
+
+Springing forward, Margaret drew the stately volume from its place.
+"Look!" she cried. "A keyhole. Hugh, isn't this exactly like the
+'Mysteries of Udolpho?' 'Inigo Jones' is his joke, you see, or
+somebody's joke. Do you mind if I turn the key, Hugh?"
+
+"Turn away!" said Hugh, much amused at the excitement of his staid
+little cousin.
+
+With a trembling hand Margaret turned the key, and gave a pull, as she
+had been told. A section of the bookcase, with its load of books, swung
+slowly forward, revealing a dark opening. Margaret stepped in, and Hugh
+followed, holding the lamp aloft.
+
+"Well, upon my word!" he said. "I never heard of anything like this, out
+of the 'Arabian Nights.'"
+
+Margaret was looking about her, too much absorbed for words. The Iron
+Cupboard was a recess some ten feet deep and seven or eight wide, lined
+with shelves. These shelves were literally packed with silver, some in
+boxes, much in bags, glimmering in the half-light like dwarfish ghosts;
+but the greater part uncovered, glittering in tarnished splendor
+wherever the lamplight fell. Rows upon rows of teapots, tall and squat,
+round and oval, chased, hammered, and plain; behind them, coffee-pots
+looking down, in every possible device. There were silver pitchers and
+silver bowls; porringers and fruit-dishes, salvers and platters. Such an
+array as might dazzle the eyes of any silversmith of moderate ambition.
+
+"Well, Margaret," said Hugh, somewhat impressed, but more amused, at
+sight of all this hoarded treasure, "what do you say? I shall leave the
+expression of emotion to you."
+
+But Margaret was in no jesting mood. With clasped hands she turned to
+her cousin. "Oh, Hugh," she cried, "isn't it wonderful? to think of all
+those beautiful things living here alone,--I don't mean alone, but all
+by themselves--year after year, with no one to see them, or take them
+out and polish them. Oh, I never saw such things! Look at this perfect
+pitcher, will you? did you ever see anything so graceful? This must come
+in, if nothing else does. The milk shall be poured from it from this day
+forward, as long as I am the Mistress of Fernley. That is just a
+play-name, of course," she hastened to explain, blushing as she did so.
+"Uncle John gave it to me in sport, when I first began to try to keep
+house."
+
+"It seems to me a most appropriate name," said Hugh. "There has never
+been another, has there? in this generation, I mean. Uncle John was
+never married, was he?"
+
+"No; isn't it a pity? I have so often wondered why. I asked Aunt Faith
+once,--well, Hugh, of course she was Mistress of Fernley as long as she
+lived, though she would always speak of herself as a visitor,--and she
+only sighed and shook her head, and said, 'Poor John! poor dear lad!'
+and then changed the subject. But--do you suppose any one can hear us
+here, Hugh?"
+
+"I do not, Margaret. I should say that you might safely tell me
+anything, of however fearful a nature, in this iron-bound retreat."
+
+"Oh, it really isn't anything--or perhaps it is not--but my own fancy. I
+have built up a kind of air-castle of the past, that is all. You know
+Uncle John's passion for roses? Well, and sometimes, when he is sitting
+quietly and has forgotten that any one is near, he will say to himself,
+'Rose! Rose!' softly, just like that, and as if it were something he
+loved to say. I have wondered whether he once cared a great deal for
+some one whose name was Rose.--What do you think, Hugh? and she died,
+and that is why he has never married. There! I have never spoken of this
+before, not even to Peggy. Don't tell any one, will you?"
+
+She looked anxiously in her cousin's face, and met the grave, sweet look
+that always made her feel safe and quiet; she did not know how else to
+express it.
+
+"Tell any one? No indeed, my dear little cousin. It is a young girl's
+fancy, and a very sweet and graceful one."
+
+"Then you don't think it may be true?" asked Margaret, disappointed.
+
+"Certainly it may be true; I should think it highly probable that
+something of the sort had happened, to keep a man like Uncle John single
+all his days; but--well, I don't see that anything can be done about it
+now, do you?"
+
+"Hugh, I am afraid you are practical, after all!" said Margaret. "And I
+was hoping you would turn out romantic."
+
+Hugh only laughed, and asked her if she had chosen all the silver she
+wanted. This question put a stop at once to Margaret's romantic visions.
+Enough? but, she had only just begun, she said. Did he think she was
+going to take one pitcher and leave all the rest of these enchanting
+treasures?
+
+"And we have not explored the boxes yet!" she cried. "See, they all
+have dear little ivory labels. Do reach me down that fat square box,
+please! 'Col. Montfort's Tankard, 1814.' Oh, that was our
+great-great-grandfather, Hugh! Do let us open this!"
+
+The black leathern box, being opened, revealed a stately glass-bottomed
+tankard, with a dragon's curling tail for a handle. On the front was an
+inscription, "Presented to Col. Peter Montfort, in token of respect and
+affection, by the officers of his mess, July, 1814."
+
+"His portrait is up in the long gallery," said Margaret. "Don't you
+remember, with the high ruffled stock? I don't see how he could speak,
+with his chin so very high in the air. Now I must have that oval green
+case; I am sure that is something interesting. 'General Washington's
+Gift.' Oh, Hugh!"
+
+This time Hugh was as much interested as she, and both bent eagerly over
+the box as Margaret opened it. The case was of faded green morocco,
+lined with crimson satin. Within was an oval cup or bowl, of exquisite
+workmanship; it was what is called a loving-cup, and Margaret looked in
+vain for an inscription.
+
+"There must be one!" said Hugh. "_Papa Patriae_ would not have been so
+unkind as to leave such a thing unmarked. Look on the bottom, Margaret!"
+
+Margaret looked, and there, to be sure, was a tolerably long
+inscription, in minute script.
+
+"Hold the light nearer, please; I can hardly read this, it is so fine.
+Oh, listen to this, Hugh! 'For my worthy Friend and Host, Roger Montfort
+Esquire, and his estimable Lady, in grateful Recollection of my
+agreeable Stay beneath their hospitable Roof. From their obliged Friend
+and Servant, G. Washington. 1776.'"
+
+"That _is_ a treasure!" said Hugh, handling the bowl with reverent care.
+"I knew that General Washington had spent some days at Fernley, but I
+never heard of this relic of his stay. Margaret, this is really
+extremely interesting. Go on, and open more of them. Perhaps we shall
+find tokens of all the Continental Congress. I shall look for at least a
+model of a kite in silver, with the compliments of B. Franklin. Suppose
+we try this next. It looks very inviting."
+
+He took down an oblong box of curious pattern, and opened it. "What
+upon earth--Margaret, what are these? Grape-scissors? Asparagus-tongs?
+They don't look like either."
+
+"I should think not!" said Margaret, taking the object from his hand.
+"Why, it is a pair of curling-tongs. What queer things! No inscription
+on these; there isn't room for one. Here is a piece of paper in the box,
+though."
+
+She took up a yellowish scrap, and read: "'My niece Jemima's
+curling-tongs, with which she, being impatient to make a Show above her
+Sisters, did burn off one Side of her Hair. Preserved as a Warning to
+young Women by me, Tabitha Montfort. 1803.' Poor Jemima! She was
+punished enough, without being held up to posterity in this way."
+
+"She was an extravagant young lady," said Hugh, "with her silver tongs;
+I think it may have been good for her soul, if not her hair, to suffer
+this infliction. Are you going to keep these out, Margaret, for use? I
+do hope you will be more careful than Aunt Jemima was. Your hair--excuse
+me!--looks as if you had not used the irons for some time."
+
+Margaret laughed, and patted the smooth waves of her hair. "It _is_
+some time!" she said. "Yours, on the other hand, Hugh, has more curl
+than may be altogether natural. I may have suspected you of the tongs,
+but at least I have had the charity to keep my suspicions to myself."
+
+"You are extremely good, Miss Montfort. What have you got hold of now?"
+
+"'Dear Johnny's Rattle!'" said Margaret, reading the label on a small
+box. "I wonder if that was Uncle John. See! silver bells; what a sweet
+tone!"
+
+She shook a merry peal from the tiny bells. Hugh, who had been rummaging
+at the other end of the cupboard, replied with a clear blast blown on a
+small silver trumpet, which he now held up in triumph. "Here we are!" he
+cried. "This is the instrument for me. This was presented to Captain
+Hugh Montfort of the navy. What on earth could the gallant commander do
+with this at sea?"
+
+"Whistle for a wind, of course," said Margaret, merrily. "What else?
+Come here and look at Grandfather Montfort's gold-bowed spectacles; they
+are big enough for an ox."
+
+So the talk went on merrily, and box after box, bag after bag, was
+opened, sometimes with astonishing results. The bygone Montforts seemed
+to have been fond of silver, and to have vied with one another in their
+ingenious applications of it to domestic uses.
+
+Many of the objects had historic or personal interest, and the two
+cousins might have spent the day there, if Mr. Montfort had not suddenly
+appeared, asking whether he was to have any dinner or not. Margaret had
+her arms full by this time, while Hugh was trying his best to carry a
+splendid fruit-bowl, a salver, two pitchers, and three vases, all at
+once. Mr. Montfort burst out laughing at sight of the pair. "Cassim and
+Ali Baba!" he cried. "And I, the Robber Captain, with not a single one
+of all the Forty Thieves at my back. Margaret, for charity's sake! you
+are not going to bring all that rubbish into the house? Isn't there
+enough already? I'm sorry I told you anything about it."
+
+Margaret looked up, guilty but happy, from her effort at capturing a
+fourth vase with her little finger, the only one left unencumbered.
+"Dear Uncle, you never would be so cruel!" she said. "See! I have only
+taken one chocolate-pot, and there are five, such beauties! Yes, I know
+we don't drink chocolate, but some of our guests might, and you would
+not have me neglect the guests, would you, Uncle John?"
+
+"Sooner than have a guest take his chocolate from a china pot," said Mr.
+Montfort, gravely, "I would go to the stake. At present, if you will
+pardon a very old joke, my dear Margaret, I should prefer to go to the
+beefsteak, which I have reason to think is on the table at this moment.
+Come out, both of you young thieves, and let Inigo Jones go in again!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+MORE ARRIVALS
+
+
+The great day came, the day of the arrivals. Jean was the first to come,
+by an early train, having arrived in New York the night before, where
+Hugh met her and brought her in triumph to Fernley. Margaret was at the
+door to receive her, and Peggy's sister had no cause to complain of the
+warmth of her reception. She was a slenderer Peggy, with the same blue,
+honest eyes, the same flaxen hair and rosy cheeks. Her dress, however,
+was far more tasteful and neat than Peggy's had been on her first
+arrival. Margaret recalled the green flannel, all buttoned awry, and
+looked with approval on Jean's pretty gray travelling-dress.
+
+"Dear Jean!" she said, kissing her cousin warmly. "Most welcome to
+Fernley, dear child! Oh, I am so glad to see you! I have been counting
+the days, Jean."
+
+[Illustration: "SHE WAS A SLENDERER PEGGY, WITH THE SAME BLUE, HONEST
+EYES."]
+
+"Oh, so have I!" said Jean, looking up with a shy, sweet smile,--Peggy's
+very own smile. Margaret kissed her again for it. "The last day did seem
+awfully long, Cousin Margaret--well, Margaret, then! I'm sure I never
+call you anything but Peggy's Margaret when I think of you. Peggy hasn't
+come yet?"
+
+"Not yet. She will be here this afternoon, on the three o'clock train.
+She knows nothing about your coming, Jean. In her very last letter, she
+was talking about being glad to come here, and so on, and she said the
+only thing wanting would be you."
+
+"Oh, goody! I'm awfully glad--that she doesn't know, I mean. It will be
+just lovely to surprise her. Dear old Peg!" Jean relapsed into bashful
+silence when Margaret took her into the library to greet her uncle; but
+Mr. Montfort's smile and cordial greeting soon put her at her ease.
+
+"Isn't he just lovely?" she whispered to Margaret, as they went
+up-stairs. "I was afraid he would be awful, somehow, but he isn't a bit;
+he's just lovely."
+
+Margaret assented, making a mental note of the fact that this child
+seemed to have but two adjectives in her vocabulary. "Peggy will see to
+that!" she said to herself. "Peggy has improved so wonderfully in her
+English this last year. She will be quicker than I to notice and take up
+the little mistakes."
+
+This was not strictly true, though modest Margaret meant it so. Peggy
+certainly had learned much at school, but her teachers had no
+expectation of her becoming an eminent English scholar.
+
+"I have put you with Peggy," said Margaret, leading the way into the
+pretty room, hung with red-poppy chintz, where Peggy had spent a few sad
+and many happy hours. "I thought you would rather be together."
+
+"Oh, yes, indeed! You are awfully kind, Cous--Margaret. I haven't seen
+Peggy for a year, you know. We missed her awfully at Christmas, of
+course, but she had a lovely time here; and it would have been awful if
+she had come home and got the measles, wouldn't it?"
+
+"Yes, we did have a very good time. The children were here,--Basil and
+Susan D.,--and they and Peggy were fast friends. Oh, yes, it was a
+great holiday. Now, dear, you will want to rest a little, so I will
+leave you. Peggy will not be here till after lunch, so you will have
+time for a good rest, and to explore the garden, too, if you like. I am
+going now to arrange my flowers."
+
+"Oh, might I help? I am not a bit tired, and I just love to arrange
+flowers. Do let me help, Margaret!"
+
+"Very well," said Margaret, with a little inward sigh. She had her own
+ideas, and very definite ones, about the arrangement of flowers, in
+which she had exquisite taste; and her recollection of the way in which
+Peggy used to squeeze handfuls of blossoms tight into a vase, without
+regard to color or form, made her dread the assistance so heartily
+proffered; but Jean was quicker than Peggy had been at her age, and one
+glance at Margaret's first "effect," a rainbow combination of
+sweet-peas, showering over the side of a crystal bowl, filled her with
+ambition to emulate its beauty. The morning passed happily and busily,
+the more so that Hugh came in presently, with a chapter of Thoreau that
+Margaret "really must hear!" He read well, and his taste and Margaret's
+being much alike, they spent many pleasant hours together, he reading
+aloud, she with her flowers or her work. Jean, who had never heard of
+Thoreau, and was not bookish, tried to listen, but did not make much of
+it. She fell to meditating instead, and her bright eyes wandered
+curiously from one intent face to the other. Hugh never thought of
+reading aloud at home. To be sure, he was the only one who cared about
+reading, or had time for it. He and Margaret seemed to know each other
+very well, seeing what a short time he had been here. Jean, with all the
+eager romance of fifteen, straightway began the building of an
+air-castle, which seemed to her a fine structure indeed. Meantime, Hugh
+and Margaret, all unconscious of her scrutiny, were enjoying themselves
+extremely.
+
+"'As polishing expresses the vein in marble and grain in wood, so music
+brings out what of heroic lurks anywhere. . . . When we are in health,
+all sounds fife and drum to us; we hear notes of music in the air, or
+catch its echoes dying away when we awake in the dawn. Marching is when
+the pulse of the hero beats in unison with the pulse of Nature, and he
+steps to the measure of the universe; then there is true courage and
+invincible strength.'"
+
+"How beautiful that is!" said Margaret.
+
+"Yes; that is the particular passage I wanted to read to you. Have you
+ever had that feeling, fancying that you wake to the sound of music? I
+often have, when I have been sleeping out in the open--never within
+doors."
+
+"No," said Margaret, "I don't think I ever have, Hugh; but what a
+pleasant thing it must be! I have never slept in the open, but even if I
+should, I fear my waking would be plain prose, like myself."
+
+Hugh laughed, and glanced at her affectionately. "I haven't found much
+prose about you, Margaret," he said. "If I had, I should not have read
+you my secrets when Thoreau tells them for me. That reminds me, do you
+sing? I have not heard you, have I?"
+
+"No; I wish I did, for I love music very much. Oh, I sing a very little,
+enough to join in a chorus--if there ever were a chorus at Fernley. I
+used to enjoy Rita's singing intensely; she has a very sweet voice."
+
+"Some one was singing last night," Hugh went on; "I don't know why, but
+this passage reminds me--I heard a woman's voice singing,--a remarkable
+voice."
+
+"Indeed? Where were you? Not in your room? I am sure there is no one in
+the house who sings."
+
+"No; it was pretty warm, and the moon--well, you remember, it was all
+you could do to go to bed yourself, Margaret. After Virtue, in the shape
+of yourself and Uncle John, had gone to bed, Vice, in my shape, wandered
+about the garden, I don't know how long. It was wonderful there, with
+the trees, and the smell of the roses and box, and--and the whole thing,
+you know. Down at the foot of the garden, over in the meadow below, some
+one was singing; some one with a remarkable voice; rather deep-toned,
+not loud, and yet full, with an extraordinary degree of melody; or, so
+it seemed at a distance. I wondered who it was, that was all. You have
+no idea, I suppose?"
+
+"No! I wonder too, very much. No one from this house, I am sure of
+that. Now that I think of it, though, Polly sings--Polly, the under
+housemaid; she has a pretty little bird-like voice, but nothing such as
+you describe. I'll make inquiries, though--"
+
+"Oh, pray don't!" said Hugh, hastily, "I'd rather not! I--I mean, of
+course, it is not of the smallest consequence, Margaret. It is pleasant
+to hear singing at night, but perhaps all the pleasanter when the singer
+is unseen and unknown. Now let us go on with our Thoreau."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Margaret! Margaret! Margaret!"
+
+It was all Peggy could say at first. All the way up the avenue her heart
+had been beating high; at sight of the brown chimney-stacks of Fernley,
+it seemed to give a great jump up in her throat; and when the carriage
+swept round the curve, and she saw the whole front of the great house,
+and Margaret, her own Margaret, standing on the steps, with arms
+outstretched to welcome her, there was nothing for it but to cry out,
+with the full power of her healthy lungs. Almost before Bannan could
+stop the horses, she had scrambled out, and was on her cousin's neck,
+strangling her with hugs, and smothering her with kisses at the same
+instant. "Margaret! Margaret! I am really here! Do you know that I am
+really here?"
+
+Speech was impossible for Margaret, but a voice from behind broke in:
+
+"Come, come! what is all this? My niece done to death on my own
+doorstep? Let go, Peggy, and come and kill me instead. I am older, and
+shall be less missed."
+
+Peggy loosed her hold, somewhat abashed, but received an embrace from
+her uncle so warm that she brightened again instantly.
+
+"Oh, Uncle John, how do you do? It was only that I was so glad to see my
+darling Margaret. Did I hurt you, dearest? I have pulled all your lovely
+hair down; Margaret, I am more clumsy than ever, I do believe."
+
+"Dear Peggy! as if I cared whether you are clumsy or not! though it is
+convenient to have the use of my windpipe, I confess. Well, and here you
+are, indeed. Why, Peggy!"
+
+"What is it, Margaret?"
+
+"_Why, Peggy!_"
+
+"Oh, dear! what is the matter? Is my hat wrong side before? I know my
+necktie is crooked, but I couldn't help that, truly I couldn't,
+Margaret; the strap is broken, and it will work round under my ear. I'll
+mend it--"
+
+"I wasn't looking at your necktie, child. Peggy, you are taller than I
+am! How dare you, miss?"
+
+"Oh, Margaret! I really thought I had done something--why, yes, so I am
+taller; but only just the least little bit, Margaret."
+
+"And your shoulders--why, Peggy, you are a great big creature! How can
+any one grow so in six months? We shall have to call you Brynhild."
+
+"What's that?" asked Peggy, simply. "I haven't grown enough to
+understand outlandish words, Margaret, so you need not try them on me.
+Oh,"--she looked around her with delighted eyes,--"how beautiful
+everything looks, Uncle John. Why, the yellow birch has grown as much as
+I have; it is quite a fat tree. And--you have put out more chestnuts,
+haven't you? And--oh, Uncle John, I haven't told you my great news! The
+most wonderful news! I wouldn't write about it, because I wanted to
+surprise you. Hugh, our Hugh, is coming East. He is--"
+
+"What is he?" said another voice, and Hugh came forward laughing, and
+took his sister in his arms. "Well, little girl,--big, enormous,
+colossal little girl, how are you? Shut your eyes, Peg of Limavaddy, or
+they will drop out, and then what should we do?"
+
+"Hugh! what does it mean? When--how did you get here? You weren't to
+start till next week."
+
+"So I wasn't," said Hugh, composedly. "But you see I did. If you are not
+glad to see me, Margaret will let me stay in the back kitchen, I am
+sure, till you go away."
+
+Peggy's only reply was a hug as powerful as the one she had given
+Margaret; it set her brother coughing and laughing till the tears came
+to his eye. "My dear sister," he said, "have you been studying grips
+with a grizzly bear? I felt one rib go, if not two."
+
+"Not really, Hugh? I didn't really hurt you?" cried Peggy, anxiously.
+
+"No, no! not really. See now, Margaret wants you. Run along, Samsonina."
+
+Peggy ran into the house, casting delighted glances all about her.
+
+"How beautiful the hall looks! Oh, Margaret, what flowers! why, it is a
+perfect flower show! Did you do them all yourself? for me? Oh, you
+darling!" and again Margaret's breath was extinguished by a powerful
+embrace. "And, oh, the surprise of seeing Hugh! You know I love a
+surprise. You planned it for me, didn't you, darling Margaret? You are
+the most angelic--"
+
+"Peggy! Peggy! Peggy! no extravagance!"
+
+"No, Margaret, I won't. Only how can I help it, when I am so happy, and
+you are so--"
+
+But here Margaret fairly laid her hand over Peggy's mouth. "I did not
+plan Hugh's coming," she said. "I was as much surprised, and as
+pleasantly, as you, Peggy. He came earlier than he had expected, on
+account of some business for Uncle James. Only, we all agreed that we
+would not tell you, because we knew your fondness for surprises. Do you
+think you could bear another, Peggy, or is this enough for to-day?"
+
+"What do you mean, Margaret? There can't be anything more. Nothing could
+count after the joy of seeing Hugh. Oh, Margaret, isn't he dear? Don't
+you love him?"
+
+"Indeed I do!" said Margaret, heartily. "You never said half enough
+about him, Peggy. Oh, we are such friends, Uncle John and Hugh and I.
+But is there no other thing you can think of that you would like, Peggy,
+dear? No one else you would like very, very much to see?"
+
+They were now at the door of Peggy's room, and Margaret's hand was on
+the door. Peggy turned and looked at her in wonder. "What do you mean,
+Margaret? Why do you look like that?" At this moment a sound was heard
+on the other side of the door, something between a cry, a sniffle, and a
+sob.
+
+"Who is in there?" cried Peggy, her eyes opening to their fullest and
+roundest extent.
+
+"Go in and see," said Margaret, and she opened the door and pushed Peggy
+gently in, and shut it again.
+
+She heard a great cry. "Jean! my Jean!" "Oh, Peggy! Peggy!" then kissing
+and hugging; and then sounds which made her open the door and come
+quickly into the room. Peggy and Jean were seated on the floor, side by
+side, their heads on each other's shoulder, crying as if their hearts
+would break.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF
+
+
+"Well, Jean!"
+
+"Well, Peggy!"
+
+"What do you think of them?"
+
+"Oh, I think they are just lovely. I like the tall one best, don't you?
+Though the red-haired one is awfully nice, too."
+
+"Goose! I didn't mean them. I meant Uncle John and Margaret. Aren't they
+dear? Did I say half enough about them, Jean?"
+
+"No, not half. Margaret is just too lovely for anything, and Uncle
+John--well, of course, I am awfully afraid of him, but he is just
+lovely, too."
+
+"Look here, young one!" said Peggy the Venerable, gravely. "Can't you
+say anything except 'awful' and 'lovely?' I would enlarge my vocabulary,
+if I were you."
+
+Jean opened her eyes to their roundest. "Vocabulary! What's that? Don't
+tell me that you are going to set up for a school-teacher, Peggy. Why,
+you used to say 'awful' yourself, all the time."
+
+"Oh, no, Jean, not quite all the time."
+
+"Well, awfully often, anyhow. I know you did."
+
+"Oh, Jean, I know I did. But first Margaret told me about it, and then I
+began to notice for myself. I've been taking Special English this year,
+and I find I notice more and more. It's really a pity, as Margaret says,
+to have only two or three words and work them to death, when there are
+so many good ones that we never use at all. Grace used to call it
+'Cruelty to Syllables.'"
+
+"Well, what shall I say? I don't know anything else."
+
+"Yes, you do; don't be absurd, child. Margaret made me a list of
+adjectives and adverbs once, I remember, the first time I was here; I
+was just your age then, Jean, and I have no doubt I _did_ say 'awfully'
+most of the time; anyhow, I did it enough to trouble Margaret aw--very
+much indeed. Let me see: there is 'very,' of course; 'remarkably,
+extremely, uncommonly, exceedingly, and excessively;' then for
+adjectives, 'charming, delightful, pretty, exquisite, pleasant,
+agreeable, entertaining,'--well, there were a great many more, but that
+is all I can think of now; all these will do instead of 'awful' and
+'lovely,' Jean."
+
+"Oh, Peggy, dear, you are a regular school-ma'am. Please don't let us
+talk about all these horrid things, the first night I am here. I am
+perfectly dying to know what you think about the two Mr. Merryweathers,
+and about Hugh and Margaret."
+
+"Why, I think the Merryweathers seem very nice boys indeed. I like the
+funny one best, I think; Gerald, is his name? But the other one is nice,
+too. He has such kind eyes, and such a pleasant voice. Somehow he looks
+more like Gertrude than Gerald does, even though Gerald has her hair.
+Oh, Jean, I wish you could see my Snowy Owl! She is so dear, and
+beautiful, and strong; next to you and Margaret, she is the very dearest
+girl in the world, except one."
+
+"May I come in?" said Margaret's voice at the door. She was greeted by a
+duet of "Come in, do!" and entering, found her two cousins seated on the
+floor, hair-brush in hand, brushing out their long fair hair.
+
+        "'Maud and Madge in their robes of white,
+         The prettiest nightgowns under the sun!'"
+
+quoted Margaret. "How comfortable you look, girls! May I do my hair
+here, too? I knew you would be sitting up, chattering. Who is the very
+dearest girl in the world except one, Peggy? And who is the one? I heard
+the end of your sentence before I knocked."
+
+"Yes, but you didn't hear the beginning," said Peggy, "or you would know
+that you two here are the _very_ dearest, and that the others only come
+after you. I was speaking of Gertrude Merryweather; oh! how you and she
+will love each other, Margaret! I don't see how I can wait to have you
+know each other. And by the 'except one,' I meant Grace Wolfe, our Horny
+Owl, and our Goat, and a good many other things."
+
+"Where is she now?" asked Margaret. "Have you heard from her lately?"
+
+"No," said Peggy, sadly. "None of us have heard at school. She wrote
+Miss Russell some time ago that she was going to try a new departure,
+and expected either to go mad or make her fortune; but she didn't say
+what it was. She never writes many letters, you know. We have all
+written again and again, but it makes no difference. Hark! what is that
+noise?"
+
+"What noise? I heard nothing," said Margaret.
+
+"I thought I heard some one speak, outside the window."
+
+They listened for a moment, but all was quiet.
+
+"It may have been Uncle John and Hugh in the garden," said Margaret. "It
+is early yet, you know, not ten o'clock; they often walk about for an
+hour and more after we come up. Speaking of Grace Wolfe, Peggy,--"
+
+"Tu-whit!" said a voice. "In this connection only, I may be permitted to
+remark, tu-whoo!"
+
+"_Grace!_" cried Peggy, in such a voice that the other girls sprang to
+their feet. Peggy was at the window before them, snatching back the
+curtain. The night was warm, and the upper sash had been lowered
+completely. Leaning over the sash was a slender figure shimmering white
+in the moonlight. "Any admittance for the Goat?" said a deep, melodious
+voice. "Peace, Innocent!" for Peggy was trying to drag her in over the
+sash by main force.
+
+"I address the mistress of the dwelling. Is there admittance for a
+miscellaneous quadruped, Margaret Montfort?"
+
+But now Margaret had her other hand, and laughing and crying, the girls
+had her in, and again Peggy displayed the powerful development of her
+muscles in a strangling embrace, from which Grace emerged panting, but
+unruffled. Giving Peggy a sedate kiss, she turned to Margaret, who still
+held her hand, gazing in wonder and bewilderment; for this was Mrs.
+Peyton's companion.
+
+"You pardon the informality?" she said; and her smile was like light in
+the room. "I could not come to call on Peggy, or on Peggy's Margaret,
+with my bonnet on. And it is a _great_ wall to climb!" she added,
+wistfully. "I don't know when I have enjoyed myself so; there is little
+climbing in these sad days. Now you see why I did not want to be Miss
+Fox."
+
+"Oh, my dear!" cried Margaret. "How could you keep me in the dark? How
+stupid--how utterly stupid of me, not to know you! And yet, how could I
+have guessed that Mrs. Peyton's companion was Peggy's own beloved Grace?
+You must be my Grace, too, please; I will have neither wolves nor foxes,
+but only Grace, or the Horned Owl."
+
+She kissed Grace, who returned the kiss warmly. But now Peggy, who had
+been silent for a moment in sheer amazement, broke in:
+
+"What does this all mean?" she cried. "Have you dropped from the moon,
+Grace Wolfe, or where do you come from? You and Margaret have met
+before? Where, and how, and when? I must know all about it, this very
+instant."
+
+The situation was soon explained. Jean, who had hung back, shy and
+frightened, was brought forward and introduced; and soon all four girls
+were seated comfortably on the floor, talking as if nothing astonishing
+had happened. Only every few minutes Peggy would put her hand out and
+touch Grace's shoulder, as if to make sure that she was genuine flesh
+and blood, and not some phantom conjured up out of the moonlight.
+
+"I have tried twice to see you," Margaret said. "Both times I seemed to
+have come just at the wrong moment. Do tell me how you are getting on,
+Grace! How has Mrs. Peyton been since you have been there? It is very
+seldom that I am so many days without seeing her."
+
+"Singular lady!" said Grace. "Beautiful, but singular. She thinks me
+mad, so matters are equal. Why, we get on--somewhere! I am not sure
+where. At present, I am in disgrace. She did not like her chocolate this
+morning, and being in a pet, bade me throw it out of window; I obeyed.
+It appears the cup was valuable, which was a pity, as its bones are
+scattered far and wide."
+
+"You threw the cup, too? Grace!"
+
+"Naturally I threw the cup. I am going on the principle of doing exactly
+what she tells me to do; thus she may discover the unreason of her
+conduct. Tu-whit! Yesterday she was displeased with an embroidered
+muslin jacket, and said she never wanted to see it again. I tore it up;
+she was displeased. To-night she took a dislike to my dress, and told me
+not to come near her till morning. Behold me here; I think it probable
+that at this moment she is raising the house for me and desiring greatly
+to be rubbed. These things are instructive to her. I have put her to
+sleep every night by rubbing, and now she will not sleep. Poor lady; so
+sad for her!"
+
+All this was said quietly, pensively, with an air of mild consideration.
+Margaret looked at her, wondering. No one had ever crossed Mrs. Peyton
+before. One "companion" after another had been engaged, been tyrannized
+over for a few weeks, and then dismissed. What would be the effect of
+this opposite treatment? Timid herself, she had always met the vagaries
+of her beautiful friend with, at most, a gentle protest. If matters were
+too bad, she stayed away for a week, and was sure to find the lady in
+her most winning mood at the end of that time; but she had never
+attempted any more severe measure than this.
+
+"Do you think--do you feel as if you were getting hold of her at all,
+Grace?" she asked. "She is really very fascinating, when she wants to
+be."
+
+"I am not fascinated!" said Grace; and for a moment the half-whimsical,
+half-reckless look, which was her usual expression, gave way to one that
+was stern enough. "Mrs. Peyton appears to me to be a wholly selfish
+person; a thing rarely met with in such entirety. I have promised my
+Good Physician that I will try to rouse her, and see if there is any
+scrap of woman left inside this pretty shell; I am going to do my best.
+I think it doubtful if there is, but I am going to do my best."
+
+Peggy gazed at her with adoring eyes and felt absolute assurance that
+Mrs. Peyton would shortly be converted into an angel. Did not Grace
+always do what she undertook to do?
+
+With one of her sudden movements, Grace turned to her, and put her hands
+on her shoulders. "Behold my Innocent happy!" she said. "What of the
+other Owls, Babe? Do they hoot happily, and flap friskily?"
+
+"Oh, Grace, they want to hear from you so much! The Snowy is really
+anxious. She is afraid you are sick, or--or something. Do write to her,
+dear; won't you?"
+
+"The Snowy," said Grace, "is one of the few wholly satisfactory persons
+in the world. I have an immense respect for the Snowy, as well as a
+strong affection. If I could write to anybody, I think it would be to
+her. It may even be done, Innocent. Who knows?"
+
+"She was afraid--" Peggy hesitated.
+
+"She was afraid," said Grace, coolly, "that I was going on the variety
+stage. Yes; but you see, I did not. But I admit there are grounds--yes,
+I will write, Innocent. And now I must go," she added, rising. "I may
+come again, Margaret? Tie a white ribbon on the window-tassel when you
+do not want me. Good night!"
+
+"Oh, but, my dear, you are not going out in that way!" cried Margaret,
+in distress. "Why not go down-stairs and out of the door, like a
+Christian?"
+
+"There is nothing distinctively unchristian, I hold, in going by way of
+the window," replied Grace, her hand already on the sash. "Consider, I
+pray you, the rapture of the one method, the futile stupidity of the
+other. Enough! I am gone."
+
+She slipped lightly over the sill and was gone, leaving the others
+staring at each other. Peggy ran to the window and looked after her.
+"She is all right, Margaret!" she cried; for Margaret was visibly
+distressed and alarmed. "The woodbine is very thick and strong, and
+there is the spout, too. There! She is down now, all safe. Good night!
+oh, good night, dear Goat!"
+
+About this time, Hugh Montfort, having said good night to his uncle and
+the two Merryweathers, sauntered down the garden walk, for one more
+turn, one more look at the night. It was a wonderful night. The moon was
+full, and Fernley lay bathed in a flood of silver light, that seemed to
+transform the old brown house into a fairy palace, stately and splendid.
+There was no wind, and no sound broke the stillness; yes, it might well
+be an enchanted palace, where every living thing lay fast bound by some
+mighty spell. The leaves drooped motionless from the branches; beyond
+the dark masses of trees, the broad lawns lay in green and silver.
+
+"It's more like something Greek!" said Hugh. "Tempe, or some such place.
+If a dryad, now, were to come out from that great tulip-tree--good
+heavens!"
+
+He stopped short, in the deep shadow of a clump of chestnut-trees.
+Something moved, behind the very tree he was looking at. A figure came
+lightly out into the open; a woman's figure, slight and supple, clad in
+shadowy white. A dryad? No! the girl he had seen in the summer-house. He
+knew the face, as it shone upturned in the moonlight; knew the firm
+mouth and chin, the blue eyes, the look of careless power; seen once
+only, it was as if he had known the face all his life.
+
+What was she doing? A smile lighted her grave eyes suddenly. She
+extended her arms, her face still raised to the moon. Her whole figure,
+light as thistle-down, began to sway, to drift hither and thither over
+the silver-green lawn. Dancing, was she? It was no human dance, surely;
+the name was too common for this marvel of motion. A wave cresting and
+curling toward its break; a cloud blown lightly along a summer sky by a
+gentle wind; a field of grain, bending and rippling under the same wind.
+Hugh thought of all these things, and rejected each in turn, as unworthy
+of comparison to this, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He
+watched her, as if in a dream of delight; each moment it seemed that he
+must wake, and find the lovely vision gone. It was too rare, too perfect
+to be real. It seemed as if all the moonlight in the world were drawn to
+this one spot, to shine on that white figure, dancing, swaying, hither
+and thither--
+
+Ah! it was over. She stopped; threw, it seemed, some words upward toward
+the moon, accompanying them with a wave of her hand. Then she turned
+away, and passed slowly out of sight, under the dark trees. As she went,
+she began to sing; softly at first, a mere breath of sound; but as she
+passed farther and farther on, her song rang out clear and sweet; the
+voice and the song that he had heard the night before, in the field
+beyond the wall:
+
+        "Trois anges sont venus ce soir,
+         M'apportaient de bien belles choses!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+ABOUT NOTHING IN PARTICULAR
+
+
+"Jerusalem!" said Philip Merryweather.
+
+"And Madagascar!" responded his twin brother. "Well, what did I tell
+you, old Towser?"
+
+"Yes, I know; but last night, you see, I was half-asleep, and didn't see
+it all. This is what I call a room."
+
+Phil sat up in bed, and looked about the great nursery, into which the
+early sun was shining brightly.
+
+"The bigness of it!" he said, "if nothing more. You could have quite a
+track round this, do you know it? Most rooms are all walls; I hate
+walls. Shove the furniture into the middle, and chalk a six-foot
+track--hey? What do you say?"
+
+"This!" replied Gerald, throwing a pillow with accurate aim. "Does it
+occur to your arboreal, if not river-drift mind, that there are people
+under this room? Heehaw! excuse me for not sooner addressing you in your
+own language. Here, belay that! I want to know what you think of them
+all."
+
+"Jolly!" was Phil's brief but emphatic verdict. But Gerald seemed to
+demand something more. "Isn't Mr. Montfort the most corking person you
+ever saw?"
+
+"Except three, I should say he was. That lame chap is a corker, too.
+Reminds me a bit of the Codger, I don't know why."
+
+"So he does!" said Gerald, eagerly. "I didn't see it before. Queer
+stunt, too, because she always makes me think of Hildegarde."
+
+"Who? Miss Peggy? I don't--"
+
+"No, no! Who said anything about Miss Peggy? Miss Montfort, of course."
+
+"They are all Miss Montforts. You mean Miss Margaret? Well--I see what
+you mean. She hasn't Hildegarde's beauty, though. Very attractive,
+but--"
+
+"That's what I mean!" said Gerald, eagerly. "There's something of that
+quiet way, that takes hold of you and--oh, I didn't mean that they
+would be taken for sisters. Look here, Elderly Ape, was you thinking of
+getting up, or should I bring his gruel, and feed him wiz a 'poon, a
+pretty toddlekins?"
+
+"A pretty toddlekins will break your pretty noddlekins," replied Philip.
+"Avast there, and heave sponges!" And the conversation ended in a grand
+splashing duet executed in two enormous bath-tubs that stood in
+different corners of the great room.
+
+It was a merry party that met at breakfast. John Montfort looked round
+the table with pleasure, and wondered how he had ever sat here alone,
+year after year, when this kind of thing was to be had, apparently for
+the asking. Margaret's sweet face, opposite him, was radiant; it struck
+Mr. Montfort that he had never seen her look so pretty before. The
+delicate rose-flush on her cheek, the light in her eyes, an
+indescribable air of gaiety, of lightness, about her whole figure--
+
+"Why, this is what she needed!" said Mr. Montfort to himself. "The
+children were all very well; I am all very well myself, for an old
+uncle, but children and old uncles are not all that a lassie needs. Ah,
+well, it is all as it should be. We remember, Rose!"
+
+Gerald, at Margaret's left hand, was talking eagerly. If her face was
+radiant, his was sparkling. For the first time in his life, it is
+probable, he seemed to take little heed of his breakfast.
+
+"Do you remember the thunder-storm, Miss Montfort? and the way that
+little chap ran around the long corridor? He's going to make a great
+runner some day. Cork--very nice little fellow. You say he isn't here
+now? I'm sorry! I wanted the Ape to see him."
+
+"The Ape?"
+
+"The Old Un. My brother, Long-leggius Ridiculus. Christian name Philip,
+but what has he done that I should call him that?"
+
+Margaret laughed. She did not fully understand, but everything Gerald
+said seemed to her funny. "What does he call you?" she asked. "Or do you
+invent new names every day? Last night I heard you calling him--what was
+it? Ornithorhynchus Paradoxus?"
+
+"It might have been!" said Gerald, with modest pride. "I can 'gleek
+upon occasion.' I can also sling a syllable with the next man. It is
+only at monosyllables that I draw the line. When I call him Ape, I have
+to tack an adjective to it, or things happen. Miss Montfort, you don't
+know how glad I was to come. It was awfully kind of Mr. Montfort to ask
+us. I've always wanted to come again, and I didn't know when I should
+have a chance. There--there isn't any other place like this in the
+world, I believe. I've told the Ape a lot about it, and he was keen to
+see it, too. What a cork--that is, what an extremely fine fellow your
+cousin appears to be."
+
+"Do you mind if I ask," said Margaret; "is 'cork' a complimentary term?"
+
+Gerald blushed. "Why, you see," he said, rather ruefully, "I made up my
+mind that I would drop it when I came here. 'Corker,' and
+'corking'--well, it means that a person is all right, don't you know?
+That he's awfully jolly, and--and--corking, in short. It's the thing
+fellows say nowadays. I get into the way of it, and then I go home, and
+the Mater says things to me. She doesn't like slang, and of course you
+don't either, Miss Montfort. I'll try not to do it again, truly I will."
+
+"Oh, but I don't mind that kind of slang!" said Margaret; and she
+wondered at herself even as she spoke. "It--it seems so funny, somehow.
+I suppose when slang is really funny--"
+
+She looked up and caught her uncle looking at her with an expression of
+amusement. She blushed in her turn, stammered, and took refuge behind
+her coffee-urn.
+
+Meantime Peggy and Philip had fallen deep in conversation. He was the
+brother of Gertrude Merryweather, the beloved Snowy Owl of Peggy's
+happiest school-days; that was enough for Peggy. She was used to boys
+and brothers, and felt none of the shyness that often made Margaret's
+tongue trip and stammer in spite of her two years' advantage. Peggy was
+full of eager questionings:
+
+"How is she looking? dear lovely thing! Do you think she will go to
+college this fall? Oh, do try to make her! I do so want to have her back
+again,--near us, I mean. The Fluffy enters this fall, you know; the
+Snowy ought to come, too. Do try to make her, won't you, Mr.
+Merryweather?"
+
+Phil looked grave. "Said the kangaroo to the duck, this requires a
+little reflection!" he said. "The child Toots has her good points, as
+you observe, Miss Montfort. She is a rather nice child, and we like to
+have her at home. She has been at this old school three years, and I
+don't see the good of sisters if they are somewhere else all the time.
+Not that I should wish to stand in the way of the child Toots; but you
+see, Bell is off, too, and the Mater has been having things the matter
+with her,--rheumatism and that,--and the child Toots is useful at
+home,--uncommon useful she is."
+
+"Oh! but--of course I'm aw--dreadfully sorry your mother isn't well;
+but--but Gertrude wants to come, doesn't she? Oh, well, I shall hope it
+will be all right. And oh! what do you think, Mr. Merryweather? The most
+astonishing thing happened last night. I must write and tell Gertrude
+all about it. The Horny is near here."
+
+"The Horny? Not--"
+
+"Yes, Grace Wolfe. Think of it! Do you know her? Well, of course
+Gertrude has told you all about her. She is the most wonderful person in
+the world, and she is living close by here, taking care of some
+one,--you know she means to be a nurse. You know how wonderful she was
+when that poor girl was so sick at school--and she has been staying at
+Doctor Flower's, and he persuaded her to come and take care of this
+lady. You must see her,--I want everybody to see her. She isn't like
+anybody else, you know. Why, just when you look at her you feel that; I
+don't know what it is,--I can't explain,--but it's there. And then her
+voice! When she sings, it's--it's like magic, somehow. Oh, dear! I wish
+I could express myself; I never know how to say things."
+
+"You are saying them beautifully!" said gallant Philip. "Besides, of
+course, Toots has told me a good deal about your wonderful friend. Does
+she still go climbing all about, disdaining doors and stairs, and using
+windows instead?"
+
+"Oh, hush!" said Peggy. "I don't know whether we are to speak of it or
+not, but--she came up the wall, and in at our window last night."
+
+"No!"
+
+"Yes, she did. Don't tell anybody, because she might not like it. She
+fluttered in like a bird, and stayed awhile, and then fluttered out
+again. And then--we heard her singing in the distance as she went back,
+and really and truly, it seemed like fairy music."
+
+Something made Peggy look up at this moment, and she caught Hugh
+Montfort's eyes fixed on her with so intent a gaze that she stumbled and
+blushed, and thought she had said something wrong. "Don't ask me
+anything about it," she murmured to her neighbor. "Perhaps--they may not
+like to have people climb up the walls here; I wouldn't get Grace into
+trouble for twenty worlds."
+
+"Hugh," said Mr. Montfort, "I am going to get you to do the honors of
+the garden and stables to these young gentlemen, as I am busy this
+morning. The girls have a dozen plans, no doubt; but perhaps Peggy and
+Jean would like to go with you and see the puppies, while Margaret sees
+to her housekeeping. How does that suit you all?"
+
+Every one acquiesced in the arrangement, and, as they went out into the
+garden, Peggy managed to slip beside her brother.
+
+"What did I say that was wrong, Hugh? You were looking at me as if I had
+done all kinds of things. Would Uncle John mind her climbing up the
+wall, do you think? She couldn't possibly hurt it; she is light as a
+feather; and Margaret didn't say anything about her not doing it again."
+
+A faint color crept into Hugh's brown cheek.
+
+"My dear little Peggy," he said, "you must not be so imaginative. It is
+a new trait in you. What possible objection could there be to a young
+lady climbing up the wall if she enjoys it? It seemed--a little unusual,
+I suppose, and so I was interested. Was I indiscreet? I hardly supposed
+you would be having confidences with young Merryweather quite so soon."
+
+"Hugh, don't be ridiculous. Then it's all right, and I am so glad! Thank
+you, dear."
+
+She was springing away, but Hugh called her back.
+
+"One moment, Peggy. This--this friend of yours seems to be a remarkable
+person. Has she other accomplishments besides climbing? Did I hear you
+speak of singing?"
+
+"Oh, Hugh, I wish you could hear her sing! You might have heard her last
+night, if you had only been out. It was full moon, and the moon makes
+her mad, she says. Anyhow, when the moon is out she is wilder than ever,
+fuller of--whatever it is that she is full of; I don't know, something
+like a spirit, or a bird. Once I saw her dance in the moonlight, and I
+shall never forget it as long as I live."
+
+"No more shall I," said Hugh, under his breath. "Thank you, Peggy," he
+said aloud. "Don't let me keep you, my dear; or were you coming with
+us?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know, Hugh; I want to do so many things, all at once. I
+want to show Jean the house, and the garden, and the summer-houses,
+and--oh! oh, you darlings! you beauties! Hugh, do look at these lovely
+duckies!"
+
+The "lovely duckies" were Nip and Tuck, who came leaping and dancing up
+the walk, wagging and sneezing, with every demonstration of frantic joy.
+
+"Which is which? Nip, oh, you dear! Give a paw! Do they know how to
+give a paw, Hugh?"
+
+"They know how to fetch," said Hugh. "Here, Tuck! here, boys! What have
+I got?"
+
+He held up a stick; straightway the dogs went mad, and yelled and
+danced, sneezed and yapped, like wild creatures. "Fetch!" said Hugh,
+throwing the stick. Together the puppies flashed off in pursuit; fell
+upon the stick and each other, and rolled over and over, still in
+frenzied voice and motion; finally came to an understanding, and, taking
+each an end in his mouth, came cantering abreast up to Hugh, and, laying
+the stick at his feet, looked up and asked for more, as plainly as ever
+did Oliver Twist. Here was a pleasant amusement for young people. The
+grave Hugh and the gay Merryweathers, Peggy and Jean, all became
+absorbed in picking up sticks and throwing them. There was no end to the
+puppies' enthusiasm, apparently; they yelled, and rushed, and yelled and
+rushed again; and when Margaret came out an hour afterward, anxious lest
+her guests should find time hang heavy on their hands, she found one
+and all flushed and breathless, hurling sticks and stones, and making
+almost half as much noise as the dogs themselves. At sight of Margaret,
+cool and pearly in her white dress, Gerald and Peggy dropped their
+sticks, and looked abashed; but Hugh called to her merrily: "Margaret,
+they are making great progress. I think my pupil has got farther than
+yours, though. Miss Margaret and I are training them for a prize
+contest," he added, turning to Gerald. "This is an extension of their
+usual practice, that is all."
+
+"Hurrah!" said Gerald, much relieved. "I was afraid she would think--I
+didn't know whether she would approve," he concluded, somewhat lamely.
+
+It _was_ amazing. It was rather as if the Venus of Milo had begun to
+sing light opera, Gerald thought; but after all, how much pleasanter if
+she should, than to stand there all day and wonder how she was going to
+eat her breakfast without any arms. With this shocking reflection,
+Master Gerald betook himself once more to the throwing of sticks, and
+the sport went on till Margaret called the puppies off, declaring that
+they would be too tired for their afternoon run.
+
+"She takes care of everything, you see!" said Gerald, aside to his
+brother. "All without any fuss; that's just like Hilda, too."
+
+"Yes," said Phil. "Appears to be a corker!"
+
+"I wish you wouldn't talk so much slang, Phil!" said Gerald. "What kind
+of word is that to use in speaking of Miss Montfort?"
+
+Philip looked up in amazement, and saw his brother flushed, and
+evidently annoyed in earnest.
+
+"Well, may I be split and buttered!" said Phil.
+
+"I wish you were!" said Gerald, forcing a laugh. "Come along, and don't
+be an ass!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+GRACE'S SYSTEM
+
+
+"Margaret!"
+
+"Yes, Mrs. Peyton."
+
+"Is that door shut? lock it, will you? and--just go and look out of the
+window, please. No one there? Thank you!"
+
+She sank back on her pillows with a sigh of relief.
+
+"What is it?" asked Margaret, soothingly. "What troubles you, dear Mrs.
+Peyton?"
+
+"I am frightened!" said Emily Peyton.
+
+"Frightened?"
+
+"Yes. I am afraid of that girl, Margaret."
+
+"What girl? You cannot possibly mean Grace?"
+
+Mrs. Peyton glanced around her. Evidently she did mean Grace.
+
+"She behaves so!" she said, in a low voice. "I don't think she is in her
+right mind, to begin with; it is terrible to be with a person who may
+break out into madness at any moment."
+
+"My dear," said Margaret, "you are absolutely and wholly mistaken. Grace
+is as sane as I am. She is one of the sanest persons I have ever known,
+it seems to me. Of course she is singular--eccentric, if you like. But
+what has she been doing, to disturb you so?"
+
+Mrs. Peyton glanced around her again, with an apprehensive glance.
+"Well!" she said, "I--I suppose I may as well tell you, Margaret. I have
+been ill so long, I may have become--a little unreasonable. There is
+nobody who cares; I never saw any reason why I should be reasonable.
+Having to lie here, it is a pity if I may not have my own way, don't you
+think so? I have had it, at any rate; I don't say that it has always
+been a sensible way; I detest sensible things and people. I can't
+imagine how I have endured you so long. I should not, if you were not
+pretty and prim."
+
+"Thank you!" said Margaret, soberly.
+
+"Don't interrupt me! This has been on my mind for two weeks, and I want
+to get rid of it. There is nobody else I can tell. Doctor Flower, like
+a veritable fiend, after sending me this firebrand, goes off to Europe.
+A physician should be indicted for going to Europe. Well--I don't know
+what to tell you, or where to begin. She--she frightens me, I say. I
+never know what she is going to do next. Yesterday--I felt wretchedly
+yesterday, Margaret; I was in acute pain all day. I suppose I was pretty
+impatient. I--well, I threw something out of the window in a pet,--my
+amethyst rope it was,--and she stood and looked at me quietly, as if she
+were taking notes of my appearance. I couldn't bear it; I told her to go
+after it. Just a little impatient cry, it was. My dear, in an instant
+she was out of the window. Gone, out of sight like a flash. I shrieked;
+no one heard me. I--you will not believe this, Margaret--I got out of
+bed, and dragged myself to the window, expecting to see her dead and
+shattered at the bottom. There she stood, cool as crystal, shaking the
+leaves from her dress. She looked up and saw me, and if ever I saw an
+elfish look--do you believe in witchcraft, Margaret? my nurse did; she
+told me some strange tales when I was a child."
+
+"No need of witchcraft in this case," said Margaret, smiling. "Grace is
+as active as a cat, and her special delight is to climb up and down
+walls. There is a grape-vine under this window, isn't there? That would
+be quite enough for the Goat, as they called her at school."
+
+"That isn't all," said Mrs. Peyton. "She's not right, I tell you; not
+canny, as Nurse used to say. You may laugh, Margaret Montfort. I tell
+you, lying here year after year, one gets to thinking all kinds of
+things. I could tell you--who knows the old woman was not right after
+all?--listen to this. Yesterday, this very yesterday, she was standing
+there by the mantel-piece, talking as quietly as we are talking now.
+Suddenly, without a word, down she falls in a swoon, or trance, or
+something unearthly. I had let the maids go out; we two were alone in
+the house. There she lay, and I thought she was dead. I got up again! No
+one knows what it cost me, Margaret. I have forgotten how to walk; I
+merely dragged myself across to where she lay. She was breathing; I
+could not see that she was paler than usual--she never has any color,
+you know. I called and screamed; I raved and wept, I believe; you cannot
+fancy how terrible it was, that living, breathing form, lying there, the
+lips almost smiling, but no sign, no twitching of an eyelid, only the
+beating of the heart, to tell me that she was not dead. Hush! do you
+know the story of Christy Moran? My nurse's grandmother used to know
+her. She was--I don't know what she was--but she used to do this very
+thing. They would find her sitting in her chair, breathing, but without
+speech or motion, and afterward they would hear of some devilish act or
+other, committed at that very hour, in some distant town or village, by
+a figure wearing her likeness. Don't laugh! don't laugh! I tell you, we
+don't know everything in this civilization that we talk so much about. I
+tried to say a prayer, Margaret,--I used to say them regularly,--but--and
+I had hardly begun before she opened her eyes and smiled at me like a
+child. 'Did you ever hear of catalepsy?' she says, and she went out of
+the room without another word, and left me to get back to bed as best I
+could."
+
+Margaret was silent, not knowing what to say. She had no doubt that
+Grace was acting upon some theory of her own, and was playing these wild
+pranks in the hope of rousing her patient to action and exercise.
+Certainly, to get Mrs. Peyton out of bed twice in two days was no small
+feat; still, Margaret's gentle mind shrank from the thought of forcing
+one so frail, so enfeebled by years of invalidism, into sudden activity
+which might be injurious, or even fatal to her. She could not betray
+Grace--what should she say? But there was no need of her saying
+anything, for Mrs. Peyton went on, hurriedly, hardly glancing at her
+auditor. Evidently it was a relief to her to free her mind.
+
+"Why don't I send her away, you may ask. Margaret, I ask myself the same
+question twenty times a day. My dear, she is too fascinating! She
+interests me so! Have you heard her sing, and tell stories? I have not
+been so interested for years. She makes me restless, I tell you; she
+makes me think of things I had forgotten, or that I said good-by to
+years and years ago. Look! she sits down on the floor here, beside the
+bed--in the night, often, when I cannot sleep, and she has been rubbing
+me--that is another reason why I do not let her go, Margaret; her touch
+is like healing balm; there is magic in it, I tell you. She sits down
+there, with her long hair falling all about her, in the moonlight,
+looking like nothing earthly, and she talks--or chants, rather,--there
+isn't anything like it, so I don't know what to call it--about foreign
+countries. She has never seen them, or she says she never has. That is a
+little matter to her; she knows all about them, twenty times as much as
+I do, though I used to travel till I hated the sight of a railway or a
+steamer. She tells me things about Sicily, and Norway, and the
+Hebrides,--old Icelandic legends,--about Burnt Njal, and those people;
+she makes me want to see the places, actually. There are plenty of
+places I have not seen. She says Iceland is a flower-garden in summer.
+Margaret, don't laugh at what I am going to say!"
+
+"Indeed, I am not laughing, dear Mrs. Peyton."
+
+"She says--this girl says--she thinks I could--get up. Get up and do
+things, I mean, like other people. Did you ever hear of such nonsense?"
+
+Mrs. Peyton laughed; but she looked eagerly at Margaret, and there was
+something in her eyes that had never been there before.
+
+Margaret leaned over her, and kissed the beautiful forehead. "I am sure
+you could!" she said; and at the moment she did feel sure. Something of
+Grace's spirit seemed to pass into her, and she felt a hope, a
+confidence, that had never come into her mind before. Why not? Why
+should it not be? Mrs. Peyton was still in middle life; she ought to
+have years of life before her. Why might she not be roused, be taught
+over again how to live, and to enjoy the good and glorious earth?
+Margaret's eyes kindled.
+
+"I am sure you could!" she repeated. "Let us try! Let me help Grace, and
+let us all try our very best, dear Mrs. Peyton. Just think how wonderful
+it would be to get well; to go about again, and be alive among live
+people. Oh, my dear, let us try!"
+
+But the lady's mood changed. In a flash, even as Margaret was gazing at
+her with eager, loving eyes,--eyes in which stood tears of affection
+and anxiety,--she changed. The mocking smile crept back to her lips, the
+light of interest died from her eyes.
+
+"Bah!" she said. "Little goose, what do you know about life and live
+people? It was to get away from them that I took to my bed, do you hear?
+There, go away! I have been talking great nonsense; forget all about it!
+Sick folks often talk nonsense. Give me something to play with, and go
+away! I had a new toy yesterday, an amber ball. It's in the top drawer.
+Ah! isn't that a beauty? Give it to me! See, how smooth and cool it is,
+Margaret! Do you think an amber necklace would be becoming to me? I can
+wear yellow, you know; blondes of my type rarely can, but it always
+suited me. Do you remember a story about the Amber Gods? It is one of
+the few stories I ever cared for. To-morrow I'll order a set of amber
+jewelry, bracelets and necklace, and--"
+
+She stopped suddenly, seeing the grave compassion in Margaret's eyes.
+
+[Illustration: "SHE LOOKED UP, AND SAW GRACE SITTING ON A BROAD, LOW
+BRANCH."]
+
+"Don't speak to me!" she cried, angrily. "You are thinking--I know
+what you are thinking--that I cannot wear necklaces in bed. You think I
+am a wretched, helpless, faded old woman. I hate you! Go away!" and
+Margaret went.
+
+As she passed along the garden-walk with bent head, musing soberly
+enough, something struck her lightly on the head,--a cherry, which fell
+at her feet. She looked up, and saw Grace sitting on a broad, low
+branch.
+
+"Come up!" said the Goat.
+
+Margaret smiled, and shook her head. "My dear Grace, I never climbed a
+tree in my life. I should not know where to begin."
+
+"Time you learned!" said Grace, gravely. "There is no knowing when the
+race will return to arboreal habits. Come, Margaret, I want you!"
+
+Margaret hesitated, and was lost. She looked about, half fearing, half
+hoping that somebody was in sight. No! no gardener came with his
+watering-can, no boy with his wheelbarrow. She turned back, to meet once
+more the compelling glance, and see the hand stretched out to help her.
+How it was accomplished, Margaret never knew, but, after a breathless
+moment, she found herself seated on the branch, too, clinging fast to
+the rugged bark, and not daring to look below.
+
+"All right!" said Grace, composedly. "See, now, what good cherries these
+are! I have permission from Madame to kill myself with them, and am
+doing my best. They are white oxhearts, the finest cherry that grows!"
+
+"Oh, but I daren't let go my hold of the branch," said poor Margaret;
+"and my head is so dizzy. Dear Grace, how shall I ever get down again?
+Won't you help me?"
+
+"Not now! Now it is necessary that you should stay for a space, and
+learn to accept this, as other situations. Begin gradually to look down
+and about you. Fix your eye on that apple-tree, the one with the
+hump-back; then let your eyes travel slowly, slowly, over the ground,
+till they come here, under our feet. There! you see it is easy. Is the
+dizziness gone?"
+
+"It is certainly much better. I think perhaps, in a little while, I may
+get used to it, but I am quite sure I never shall like it. Why do you
+like to climb so, Grace? Why is it more comfortable to sit in a tree
+than on a pleasant, safe seat on the grass?"
+
+Grace shrugged her shoulders. "Who can say?" she said. "I have always
+supposed that the soul of my grandam inhabited a bird. Shakespeare! And
+you know I am an owl myself in regular, if not in good, standing. What
+would you? It is my nature. And how do we find the Patient to-day? Did
+she tell you that she left her bed twice yesterday?"
+
+"Yes. Grace, it frightens me, all this wild work. Are you sure what you
+are doing?"
+
+"I am sure that there is nothing the matter with this lady. I think she
+can be brought back to health by foul means, but not by fair. I think
+that in this case the end justifies the means. _Voila!_"
+
+Margaret looked at her earnestly; she met a gaze so full, so clear, so
+brave, that her own spirit rose to meet it.
+
+Suddenly Grace held out her hand. "Come!" she said. "Trust me, Margaret!
+I am not a hobgoblin, though I may pose as one now and then. Trust me;
+and--by and by--try to love me a little, for I loved you before ever I
+saw you."
+
+Margaret took the slender hand and pressed it cordially. "I will trust
+you!" she said. "I have doubted, Grace, I confess; doubted and feared;
+but now I shall not fear any more. Only--oh, my dear, don't frighten her
+more than you have to. She really thinks you are--not right; and some of
+the things she told me were certainly rather terrifying. That trance, or
+whatever it was--well--what was it, Grace?"
+
+Grace laughed, a laugh so merry and clear that the robins left off
+eating cherries to see what the sound might be. "What was it? My child,
+it was nothing. I fell down, I shut my eyes--again, _voila_! Her mind
+was prepared for the marvellous, and she found it. Nothing simpler than
+that."
+
+"But you said something about--catalepsy! the very sound of that word
+always frightens me, because of a story I read once. I don't wonder it
+frightened Mrs. Peyton."
+
+"I asked her if she had ever heard of it. A simple question! Apparently
+she had. Come, let us eat cherries, and strive to approximate the
+lettuce. Do you feel any green crinkles in your veins yet? And how is
+the Innocent to-day? I love that child."
+
+"Dear Peggy! I left her trying to teach Tuck to keep a biscuit on his
+nose while she counted twenty. When I left, he could not get beyond ten,
+when it was devoured with yelps of joy. But I have no doubt Peggy will
+succeed in time; she has plenty of patience, and plenty of
+perseverance."
+
+Grace nodded sagely. "Plenty of patience and plenty of perseverance!"
+she repeated. "Great qualities, Margaret. I wonder if I have them. I am
+going to find out. Now--who is the tall person who is lame, and sits in
+a summer-house?"
+
+Margaret laughed. "He doesn't sit in a summer-house all the time," she
+said. "That is Peggy's brother, Hugh Montfort. I want you to know him,
+Grace; he is so delightful; I know you will be friends. Come over to tea
+this evening, won't you? Mrs. Peyton promised me you should; you know we
+have been trying for you ever since Peggy came. Do come! Uncle John is
+planning something for us; he will not tell me what, but it is sure to
+be something delightful. Promise that you will come; and then you must
+really help me get down, my dear, for the girls will be wondering where
+I am."
+
+"Your hands here--so! Let yourself swing clear--don't be afraid; hang
+still--now drop easily! There! was that so very dreadful? Good-by, cool,
+green, lovely one! I will come to-night; good-by!"
+
+"What will Rita say," Margaret questioned herself as she took her way
+homeward, "when I write her that I have been climbing cherry-trees, and
+getting down from them without a ladder?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+THE MYSTERIES OF FERNLEY
+
+
+"Now, Uncle John!"
+
+"Now, Margaret!"
+
+"Don't be tormenting, sir! You know that you promised us a new Mystery
+of Fernley, if we would all be good. We have been good; virtue shines
+from every one of us, doesn't it, Hugh?"
+
+"My eyes are dazzled," replied her cousin. "Most of it seems to come
+from the feminine side of the house, though, I fear. All that the boys
+and I have done has been to abstain from actual crime."
+
+"Oh, cherries!" said Phil.
+
+        "Up into the tree of cherry,
+         Who should climb but little Jerry?"
+
+"Pooh! pooh!" said Mr. Montfort. "What are cherries for except to eat, I
+should like to know? Yes, you have all been good children, and it is
+true that I promised--something. Sit down now, all of you, and I will
+tell you the story of the Lost Casket."
+
+The young people clustered about him, sitting on the floor, on cushions
+and footstools, on anything rather than the prosaic seat of an ordinary
+chair. Mr. Montfort looked around on their bright, eager faces. Margaret
+sat next him, his own Margaret, fair and sweet in her white dress, with
+the bright, joyous look that had grown so habitual to her of late. Next
+to her was Gerald Merryweather; it struck Mr. Montfort suddenly that
+Gerald Merryweather usually was beside Margaret. Beyond them again,
+Peggy and Jean, with Phil between them; Phil, who as yet preferred his
+sister Gertrude's society to that of any girl he had ever seen. At the
+other side of the ring, Grace Wolfe, sitting a little apart, with the
+curious air of solitariness that seemed to surround her even in company.
+Hugh Montfort was not far off, though, and his deep brown eyes were
+gazing at her intently.
+
+"Once upon a time," Mr. Montfort began, and was greeted with a chorus of
+disappointment. "Oh, Uncle John! You said it was true."
+
+"Not a fairy story this time, sir, please; give us the real thing!"
+
+"Will you be quiet, you impetuous creatures?" asked Uncle John. "It is
+true, so far as I know. And if you interrupt me again--"
+
+"We will not!"
+
+"Hear us swear!" cried the young people.
+
+"Once upon a time, then, some hundred and fifty years ago, there lived
+here at Fernley Mr. Peter Montfort, the great-great-grandfather of some
+of you. He was a worthy gentleman, with a pretty taste for engravings;
+that Raphael Morghen print of the Transfiguration, Margaret, that you
+are so fond of, is from his collection. He travelled about Europe a good
+deal, buying engravings; that is the only thing I know about him, except
+the fact that he married twice; and on this marrying twice hangs our
+story. Listen now, and you shall hear. His first wife (she was a Miss
+Rhinefels) died, leaving him with an only daughter, Christina Montfort.
+The only time the name Christina appears, I believe, in the family
+annals. At the time of her mother's death Christina was a woman grown;
+a handsome person, to judge from her miniature, and of strong feelings.
+She kept house for her father, and expected to do so all her days, as an
+early disappointment had disinclined her for marriage. When, after a
+couple of years, her father, being then a man of seventy, brought home a
+wife of twenty-five, Christina was, not unnaturally, incensed. She
+refused to speak to the newcomer, shut herself up in her own apartments,
+and had a special servant to wait upon her. This uncomfortable state of
+things continued for some time, when she sickened of some acute
+distemper, and died in a short time. She possessed some fine jewels,
+which she had inherited from her mother, and she was heard to say
+repeatedly that her stepmother should never lay a finger on one of them.
+It is supposed that she, or her servant acting under her orders, hid the
+casket containing these jewels somewhere in this house; at all events,
+they were never found after her death, and have never, it is said, been
+seen to this day."
+
+"Oh, Uncle John! but has any one looked for them?"
+
+"My dear Peggy, every one has looked for them. I cannot tell you how
+many Montfort ladies, in all these generations, have fretted their
+nerves and worn out their finger-nails, hunting for this Lost Casket. I
+specially requested your Aunt Faith, Margaret, not to mention it to you
+or your cousins when you were here together. I had seen so many vain
+searches, and heard of so many heart-burnings, in connection with it,
+that I thought it best to defer the information till--till later. This,
+however, seems a very favorable time. You are all too sensible, girls,
+to be unhappy if you do not find it. To tell the truth, I used to hunt
+for it when I was a boy. But you can have a grand game of hide and seek,
+with an object, imaginary or actual, at the end of it; and I wish you a
+merry game, young people, and I return to my conversation with the Sieur
+de Montaigne."
+
+He was surrounded in an instant, kissed, caressed, and thanked till he
+declared his life was in danger, and threatened to take up the
+hearth-broom in self-defence; finally they trooped off, to hold a
+consultation in the hall.
+
+"Shall we divide our forces and go in small parties?" inquired Hugh,
+looking at Grace.
+
+"I say we go just as it happens," said Peggy. "I think that will be much
+more exciting."
+
+"Perhaps it will," said Hugh, becoming resigned, as he saw Peggy link
+her arm in Grace's. "Come on, then, girls and boys! Suppose we begin
+with the garret; Margaret has been promising to show me its wonders ever
+since I came."
+
+On the second landing they paused to salute the old portraits, and Hugh
+must point out this or that one that had a familiar look.
+
+"This might be Margaret's self, I always think, Miss Wolfe; this
+sweet-faced lady in the silvery green gown. See! she has the same clear,
+quiet, true eyes, and her hair is the same shade of soft brown. A lovely
+face."
+
+"Are you looking at the Sea-green Me?" asked Margaret over his shoulder.
+"Our dear Rita liked it, and used to call it her Sea-green Margaret. But
+come now and look at the glorious Regina, who actually has a look of
+Rita herself. And I want Grace to see Hugo, too."
+
+[Illustration: "ON THE SECOND LANDING THEY PAUSED TO SALUTE THE OLD
+PORTRAITS."]
+
+She passed on, and Grace was about to follow, but Hugh detained her.
+"Just one moment," he said, speaking low. "This is a fine collection,
+Miss Wolfe, but I see no portrait of the Wood-nymph."
+
+"The Wood-nymph?"
+
+"Yes. Do you not know that a dryad haunts this garden of Fernley?
+Sometimes she is not seen, only heard in the dusk, singing magical
+songs, that fill whoever hears them with a strange feeling akin to
+madness. But sometimes--sometimes she leaves her tree, and comes out in
+the moonlight, and--dances--"
+
+He paused. Grace had started, and now looked up at him with a curious
+expression, in which anger, mirth, and fear seemed struggling for the
+upper hand. Before she could reply, a terrific scream rang through the
+gallery, startling the whole party. Turning, they saw Jean, who had run
+on before the rest in her eagerness to explore, standing at the farther
+end of the corridor, with open mouth and staring eyes, the very image of
+terror.
+
+"My dear child," cried Margaret, running toward her, "what is it? Are
+you hurt?"
+
+"What is it, Jeanie?" said Peggy, who was the first to reach her sister,
+and already had her in her arms. "Jean, don't gasp so! You have seen
+something; is that it? Margaret, what did I always tell you?"
+
+Jean nodded, still gasping, and clung to Peggy with eager, trembling
+hands. "Oh!" she moaned. "Peggy, save me! take me away! the closet; oh,
+the closet!"
+
+"What closet, dear? This one? Why, this is the broom closet. There is
+nothing here to frighten you, Jean."
+
+"The woman!" murmured Jean. "The dreadful dead woman! Peggy, I saw her
+eyes, and her long hair. Oh, I shall die, I know I shall!"
+
+"Oh, you poor lamb!" cried Margaret, laughing in spite of her
+compassion. She hurried to the closet and flung the door wide open. "It
+is only Mrs. Body!" she said. "Come and look again, Jean; it is the
+lay-figure, dear, nothing else in the world."
+
+"Lay figure?" faltered Jean, still trembling and hanging back.
+
+"Yes, the model. Grandmother Montfort used to paint a great deal, and
+she had this creature made to stand for the figure. Come and look at it,
+dear child."
+
+Gently and persuasively she drew the trembling girl forward; the others
+all pressed behind her.
+
+There on the floor of the closet lay a figure which might at the first
+glance have alarmed a stouter heart than fifteen-year-old Jean's,--the
+figure of a woman, scantily draped in white. The arms were stretched out
+stiffly, the face, with its staring eyeballs, over which fell some lank
+wisps of hair, was turned toward the door. No wonder Jean was terrified.
+
+"I am so sorry!" said Margaret. "The children, Basil and Susan D., found
+her in the garret last winter. They begged to be allowed to have her for
+a plaything, so they kept her in here, and had great fun with her. Her
+name is Mrs. Body, but she can take any part, from Ophelia to Simple
+Susan. She took tea with us once, when Uncle John was away, and she
+behaved beautifully; so you see you really must not mind her, Jean,
+dear."
+
+"It's no wonder she was frightened, though," said Gerald. "My right arm
+cleaves to the roof of my mouth, even now that I know who she is. Mrs.
+Body, my respects to you, ma'am, and I desire you of less acquaintance."
+
+While they were all laughing over Mrs. Body, and commenting upon her
+various points, Gerald slipped round to Margaret's side.
+
+"Miss Montfort," he said, speaking in a low tone, "do you remember the
+roarer?"
+
+"Indeed I do, Mr. Merryweather. Do you know, you never showed me the
+place. You had to go away the next day, you remember."
+
+"That is just what I was thinking," said Gerald. "I have never forgotten
+that burning moment when Mrs. Cook and I foregathered in the dark. I was
+thinking, what if the Lost Casket should happen to be somewhere about
+that place in the wall? and anyhow, it would be fun to explore it, and I
+promised to show it to you, and I like to keep my promises, because
+virtue is my only joy. Won't you come with me now, and let the rest go
+on? Awfully nice in the garret, I am sure, but--won't you come,
+please?"
+
+"Oh," said Margaret, "that would be delightful! But--it is quite dark,
+isn't it? and they have all the candles."
+
+"All except this," said Gerald, drawing a slender cylinder from his
+pocket. "Electric candle; you have seen them, of course. I brought it
+with me, intending some such exploration, if permitted. I ran up and got
+it, at Mr. Montfort's first word of this search. Come! the down-stairs
+hall. This way; oh, please, this way."
+
+Margaret hesitated, looking doubtfully at him. "I--don't know if I
+ought," she said. "I should like it of all things, if I thought--"
+
+"Don't think!" said Gerald, hastily. "Great mistake to think; wastes the
+tissues awfully. Action first, thought afterward! aphorism! Or if you
+must indulge in the baneful pursuit, think how much poor Jerry wants
+you. Poor Jerry! child of misfortune!"
+
+"Is that the way you get everything you want?" said Margaret, laughing,
+as she followed him half-reluctantly down-stairs.
+
+"One way; there are others. This is the best, since it procures me your
+company. See, now! in this niche here, behind the big picture!"
+
+He passed his hand along a panel; it swung back, revealing blackness.
+
+Margaret stared. "I never knew that was a door!" she said. "Mr.
+Merryweather, do you know, I think the person who built this house must
+have been a smuggler, a magician, and a detective, all in one."
+
+"Fine combination!" said Gerald. "I should like to have known the old
+codg--I mean gentleman. No deep mystery here, though, beyond the secret
+door. He did love secret doors, that ancestor of yours. He may have been
+an architect, and have thought door-handles unsightly, as they are. But
+see!"
+
+They were now standing in a deep recess, and he waved his candle to and
+fro. "This would appear to have been originally used as a kind of
+store-room, or drying-room. See those hooks; probably for hams--if not
+for hanging," he added. "If you prefer tragedy, Miss Montfort, you shall
+have it. There is room for ten persons to hang here, without touching.
+Their ghastly upturned faces, their blood-stained robes, glimmering
+spectral white in the--"
+
+"Oh, don't!" said Margaret. "You really frighten me. Yes, they must be
+for hams; now I think of it, I have heard Frances speak of the
+drying-closet. This wall is warm; it must be close against the kitchen
+chimney."
+
+"Jerusalem!" exclaimed Gerald. "Here are steps, Miss Montfort. Stone
+steps, leading down to a trap-door. Shall I help you down, or--no, I
+will go alone. When I open the door, a hollow groan will be heard, and
+the clank of iron fetters. Would you rather have me descend to Hades
+with a loud squeak, or shall a headless spectre arise, grinning and--beg
+pardon! anatomy at fault; grinning requires a head. That's the way! my
+genius is always checked in its soaring flight, and pulled back to earth
+by idiot facts."
+
+Running on thus, Gerald descended the stone steps, Margaret following to
+their top, timidly. Sure enough, there was a trap-door at the bottom,
+with a ring in it; a perfectly orthodox trap-door, suitable for the
+Arabian Nights or anything else. Gerald took hold of the ring, prepared
+for a vigorous pull; then paused, and looked at his companion. "I hear
+voices!" he said. "Hark!"
+
+They listened. A low murmur came up from below; the voices were muffled,
+by distance or intervening substances, and could not be distinguished.
+
+"Oh, do you think we'd better open it?" said Margaret, who had such a
+wholesome awe of the Mysteries of Fernley that she was prepared for
+anything in the way of the marvellous.
+
+"That is what I think!" said Gerald, cheerfully. "That's what it was
+made for, you see. A door that does not fulfil its destiny might just as
+well be something else, skittles, or a pump, or--other things. Now
+this--"
+
+As he spoke, he gave a vigorous pull; the door lifted, but at the same
+instant the candle slipped from his hand, and fell rattling into some
+unseen depth below, leaving them in blank darkness. Margaret uttered a
+cry of alarm. "Don't fall! Oh, pray be careful, Mr. Merryweather!"
+
+"All right!" said Gerald. "Stay just where you are, for a moment, while
+I explore this--aperture. Ha! the steps continue. You don't mind if I
+leave you in the dark for just a minute, Miss Montfort?"
+
+Margaret did not mind, once assured that her companion was not engaged
+in the congenial pursuit of breaking his neck. She began feeling about
+her in the darkness, darkness so thick it was like black velvet, she
+said to herself. She found the wall; it was warm, as she said; she began
+passing her hand mechanically along the bricks, counting them.
+
+A cheerful voice came up from below: "I have found the doughnuts--good
+ones!--and the--seem to be--yes! sweet pickles. Corking! And--now you've
+done it, my son! Jam, by all that's adhesive! Put my whole hand in.
+Jerusalem and Mad--"
+
+At this instant there was a sound as of a door thrown violently open; a
+flood of light filled the place; light, and an angry voice.
+
+"Who's this here in my pantry? Come out of that, ye rascal, before I set
+the dogs on ye!"
+
+Gerald Merryweather uttered a yell of delight. "Destiny!" he shouted.
+"My fate cries out. Quits, Mrs. Cook, quits! Come to my arms!"
+
+And Margaret, peeping fearfully down through the trap-door, beheld her
+guest waving one hand, a crimson one, in the air, and with the other
+embracing the ample form of Frances the cook; while behind them the
+grave Elizabeth looked wide-eyed, shading her candle with her hand.
+
+"For shame, sir!" said Frances. "Do behave, now, Mr. Gerald! I never see
+such a bold boy since born I was."
+
+"No, no! not bold; don't say bold, Mrs. Cook! Witness my blushing eyes,
+my tearful cheek, my stammering nose! Hush, listen, there's a good soul.
+Your doughnuts are food for the gods; also for Jerry. Poor Jerry; never
+had enough doughnuts in his life. You weep for him; let him dry the
+starting tear!"
+
+Drawing out his pocket-handkerchief, he gravely applied it to Frances's
+eyes and went on. "We are looking for the Lost Casket, Miss Montfort and
+I. If you can help us to it, Mrs. Cook,--
+
+        "I'll dress thee all in pongo silk,
+         And crown thee with a bowl of milk;
+         And hail thee, till my last breath passes,
+         The queen of sugar and molasses.
+
+A poet, as you observe. Nothing to what I can do, give me time and a
+yard measure. Now tell me--"
+
+Margaret's voice from above interrupted him.
+
+"Mr. Merryweather, there is a loose brick here. I can pull it quite out;
+and--yes--there is a space behind it, and--oh, can you bring the light?"
+
+To snatch the lamp from Frances's hand, blow her a kiss, and scramble up
+the steps again, was the work of an instant with Gerald. He found
+Margaret pale, with shining eyes, holding something in her hands.
+
+"No!" cried Gerald. "I say, you haven't--you have! eccentric Jiminy, you
+have found it!"
+
+"I think I have!" said Margaret, who was fairly trembling with
+excitement. "Look! the letters on the lid! oh, Mr. Merryweather!"
+
+The object she held was a box some eight inches square, of ebony or some
+other dark wood, banded with silver. On the lid were inlaid, also in
+silver, the letters C. M.
+
+"Christina Montfort!" said Margaret. "Oh, to think of my being the one
+to find it!"
+
+"I should like to know who else had the right to find it!" said Gerald.
+"Punch their--I mean, of course, if they were fellows; I beg your
+pardon, Miss Montfort."
+
+"It is locked," said Margaret. "We must wait, and try some of Uncle
+John's keys."
+
+"Take care!" exclaimed Gerald. "The bottom is dropping out. Hold your
+hand under it!"
+
+As he spoke, the bottom of the box, which was of some soft wood and had
+rotted through, dropped, and something rolled out and fell into
+Margaret's hand. She held it up to the light. It was a hawk's egg,
+neatly blown.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE EGG OF COLUMBUS
+
+
+"Why, yes!" said Mr. Montfort. "It is my egg, certainly."
+
+"Oh, Uncle John!"
+
+"Well, sir, then--"
+
+"Then you know all the--"
+
+"Was it--"
+
+"Did you--"
+
+"Tell am what--"
+
+Mr. Montfort put his hands resolutely over his ears, and shut his eyes.
+"When you are still," he said, "I will tell you all about it; till then
+I am a blind deaf-mute, with no benefit of modern instruction."
+
+A swift rustle, followed by dead silence. Cautiously opening his eyes,
+Mr. Montfort saw the whole company seated on the floor around his chair,
+gazing at him with imploring eyes, but motionless and mute. He laughed
+heartily, and threw himself back in his chair.
+
+"I promised you a merry game," he said. "Have you had it?"
+
+The young people nodded like mandarins, but uttered no sound.
+
+"I promised you nothing more. In fact, I warned you not to expect
+anything more. On your own heads be egg and emptiness.
+
+"Well, well!" he added, "since you are so good and dutiful, you shall
+have the whole truth. I found the box some forty years ago, when I first
+stumbled on that closet. My dear mother was timid, and had a great dread
+of the Mysteries of Fernley, imagining a secret staircase in every wall,
+and an oubliette under every floor. Somebody had frightened her when she
+came here as a child, by showing her I forget what dark passage or
+closet. So we were never officially told of the various pleasant places
+devised by the eccentric old ancestor, Peter, who, I have always
+believed, was a smuggler before he was a patriot, and hid kegs as well
+as commanders in his smoke-closet. You know the story of General
+Blankley and the hams, Hugh? Remind me to tell you some day. Well, this
+being so, of course we youngsters were keen set on discovery; and we
+formed a league, called the Hovering Hawks. Each of us had his private
+totem or sign; and when he made a discovery, he left a totem to tell
+that he had been there. Jim's was an oyster-shell, because he considered
+the world his oyster; Dick's was a ship, because he always meant to be a
+sailor; Roger's was a book, of course, for obvious reasons; and mine was
+an egg, Columbus's egg, because I meant to find things out. You see
+there was no overstock of modesty among us, more than there is among
+most healthy boys. We were ready for anything and everything. I dare say
+some of you may have found oyster-shells about, in various inaccessible
+places?"
+
+Grace started, and blushed; then hung her head. "I--I found one," she
+admitted. "It was in a cubbyhole in the parapet of the roof. I thought
+of bringing it away, but it seemed as if some one had wanted to leave it
+there, so I didn't touch it."
+
+"Jim's Retreat," said Mr. Montfort. "He stayed up there two days once,
+in a fit of sulks, and frightened my poor dear mother almost into an
+illness. Father Montfort was away from home the first day; the second
+day he came home, and went up after Master James. He was a powerful man,
+Father Montfort, and an excellent climber. Yes, poor old Jim! he did not
+climb again for several days. Well, as I was saying, after all this very
+egotistical digression, I found the box in question some forty years
+ago. I withdrew the--a--contents--and substituted for them my totem. The
+contents I put--elsewhere."
+
+He looked round the circle, smiling. Margaret, gazing earnestly at him,
+saw his face, for the second time since she had known him, change from
+that of a grave, thoughtful man into that of a mischievous boy, the
+eager eyes alight with fun, the lips twitching with laughter.
+
+"Wouldn't--you--like--to--know?" he began slowly, his eyes turning from
+one to the other. Suddenly he broke off.
+
+"There! the play is over, children. Margaret, you found the casket, you
+shall find the--run your hand along the back of my chair here, my dear;
+where it feels cold, press downward."
+
+Margaret obeyed. A long narrow box or drawer shot out from the rolling
+back of the great mahogany chair. Obeying Mr. Montfort's gesture,
+Margaret lifted out of the nest of silky cotton something that sparkled
+and glittered in the firelight. There was a long-drawn sigh from the
+girls, a grunt of surprise from the men, but still no one spoke.
+
+"The pearls are for you, Margaret. I always meant them for you, my dear.
+I have taken them out every birthday and Christmas and looked at them,
+but there was always something else I wanted to give you just then, so I
+put the pretty playthings back again. Peggy, these pink topazes were
+made expressly for you, even if they have been waiting some time. No
+earrings, thank heaven! I could not see my girls in earrings. The
+diamonds I sent to Rita as a wedding present; you remember them,
+Margaret. Deceitful, was I, not to tell you their history? My child, I
+said they were family jewels, and so they were. The turquoises must be
+Jean's; put them on at once, little girl! Very pretty; very becoming.
+Now,--any more? It seems to me I remember one more article--ah!"
+
+Margaret drew out a long, delicate, glittering chain. At sight of it,
+Grace uttered a low cry of delight. "What is it?" she said. "I never saw
+anything so beautiful. Water and moonlight? What are the stones, Mr.
+Montfort, please?"
+
+"Aquamarine," said Mr. Montfort. "They are beautiful, though not of
+great value. Now what shall I do with this last trinket, I wonder?"
+
+"There is only one person who can possibly wear it," said Hugh, under
+his breath. His uncle heard him, and shot a keen, quizzical glance at
+him, which caused the philosopher to retire suddenly behind the shadow
+of the curtain. Margaret glided to her uncle's side, and whispered in
+his ear. Mr. Montfort nodded, smiling. "Just what I was thinking,
+Margaret," he said. "You read my thoughts accurately. My dear Miss
+Grace--by the way, isn't it time for me to leave off the 'Miss,'
+considering my age, and how well we know each other? 'Miss Grace'
+suggests 'disgrace,' which can have no possible connection with you. My
+dear Grace, then, as Margaret and others have said, there is only one
+person present who ought to wear this chain, and that person is
+yourself. Will you accept it as a little gift from Margaret and me, and
+from Cousin Christina?"
+
+Grace drew back, her eyebrows coming together in a look Peggy knew well.
+"I--You must excuse me," she began; but Mr. Montfort, going to her, took
+her hand kindly: "My child, do not refuse me this little pleasure. You
+surely do not expect me to wear the chain myself? and Margaret has more
+trumpery than is good for her already. Besides, as I said, the thing was
+manifestly made for you, and for you alone. And, besides, again,
+Grace,"--he drew her nearer, and spoke low,--"besides, again, you are an
+explorer, too; if you had lived twenty-five years ago, we should have
+had great excursions together. Take it, my dear, if for no other reason,
+because it is the gift of the boy who put the egg in the box!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+IN THE TWILIGHT
+
+
+"How strange it seems without the boys!" said Jean.
+
+"And Uncle John!" said Margaret.
+
+"And Hugh!" said Peggy. "I wish they hadn't gone."
+
+"Oh, no, you don't, Peggy!" said Margaret. "It was such a great chance,
+to have the day on that wonderful yacht. Just think what a good time
+they are having! I only wish you could have gone too, but it is a
+bachelor party, you see."
+
+"Of course! Oh, I want them to have the fun, and it was very good of
+Captain Storm to let Uncle John take them all. Yes, they will have a
+glorious time; only--well, we miss them so horribly. Dear me, Margaret,
+isn't it strange that you should get to know people so well in such a
+short time? Why, I seem to know Gerald and Phil as well--better, in
+some ways, than I know Hugh. But then, I never feel as if I understood
+Hugh, he is so--he knows so much. Margaret, dear, it makes me happy all
+through to have you and Hugh know each other, and be such friends."
+
+"Indeed, it cannot make you so happy as it does me, Peggy," said
+Margaret, smiling. "He is a wonderful person, that brother of yours.
+Yes, he does know a most amazing amount, but he never makes one
+uncomfortable with his knowledge, as some clever people do. He is like a
+delightful book, that you can read when you want to, and when you don't
+it stays quiet on its shelf. When I want to know about anything, and
+Uncle John is somewhere else, or is busy, I just turn over a page of
+Hugh, and there I have it. Oh, by the bye, Grace, what was that stanza
+he was quoting to you this morning, just before he went away? Don't you
+remember? we were coming through the orchard, he and I, and we met you,
+and he said this. I have been trying all day to recall it."
+
+"Keats!" said Grace, briefly.
+
+"Yes, I know that; it was from 'La Belle Dame sans Merci,' but I cannot
+get the whole stanza. Won't you repeat it? I know you have almost the
+whole of Keats by heart."
+
+Grace hesitated, and murmured something about "a time for everything,"
+but finally, half-reluctantly, she repeated the stanza:
+
+        "'I met a lady in the meads,
+           Full beautiful, a fairy's child;
+         Her hair was long, her foot was light,
+           And her eyes were wild.'"
+
+"Yes," said Margaret. "Well--thank you, Grace! I just wanted to hear it
+in your voice; what I was thinking of was, that Hugh always knows just
+what to say about everything and everybody. He has the whole Golden
+Treasury in his head, and he always turns the right page. Do you
+remember the other day, when Michael was so stupid!"
+
+"Michael is always stupid!" said Jean.
+
+"Poor Michael! He is not very clever." (Michael was the stable-boy at
+Fernley, a new importation from Ireland, with a good deal of peat-bog
+still sticking to his brains.) "Well, the other day he was more stupid
+than usual, for he was sent in town to get some rolled oats that
+Frances wanted. Well, he brought back just plain oats; and when Frances
+wanted to know what he meant by that, he said, 'Sure, it's meself can
+rowl 'em about for yez, as well as that feller in the white jacket.'
+Frances explained the situation to him with more force than amiability.
+She was in a perfect storm, and poor Michael stood meekly, feeling of
+his ear as if she had actually boxed it, though really she only
+threatened to, and wondering what it was all about. Well, Hugh and I
+came along, and Hugh just looked at him, and said:
+
+        "'The ass upon the pivot of his skull
+         Turned round a long left ear!'
+
+There is no other quotation in the English language that would have
+fitted the case so perfectly."
+
+"You and Grace seem to know Hugh about a hundred times as well as Peggy
+and I do," said Jean, pouting a little.
+
+"Because they are clever, my dear, and we are not," said Peggy,
+cheerfully. "If you would learn things, Jean, English literature and
+all that, you might be able to talk to Hugh. As it is--"
+
+"Well, I think Phil and Gerald are ever so much more fun, anyhow!" said
+Jean, saucily. "Hugh is poky!"
+
+Seeing an elder-sisterly cloud gathering on Peggy's brow, Margaret
+hastened to interfere. "Girls," she said, "I have a confession to make.
+I was just going to make it, when the quotations turned me off the
+track. You know what Peggy was saying, about our all getting to know
+each other so well from staying in the house together. That reminded me
+of something, something I am very much ashamed of; and I think it would
+be good for my soul to confess it. But you must promise never to tell."
+
+"We promise! We promise!" cried all the girls.
+
+"Margaret," said Grace, "I have been looking for your sins ever since I
+came, but you were too clever for me; now I shall learn."
+
+"Not my fault," said Margaret, merrily, "if you are a bat as well as a
+dozen other animals, my dear. Well, girls--oh, I am ashamed, and it
+really is most astonishingly virtuous of me to tell you about it.
+Peggy, just before you came, I was very blue; deeply, darkly, most
+unbeautifully blue!"
+
+"Margaret! you, blue?"
+
+"Hear Peggy making rhymes! Yes, I, blue. You see, the children were
+gone, and I did miss them so, I hardly knew how to bear it. It is
+impossible for any one to have any idea, girls, how children, children
+that are little enough to need one's care, you know, and--and watching,
+and thinking about, and all--how they get inside your heart and just
+live there, all curled up in it, bless them! and these particular
+children are the very dearest ones that ever lived, I do believe. Well,
+so they were gone, and my heart seemed empty; wickedly and abominably
+empty, for there was my own dearest uncle, and there were you, my own
+Peggy, coming to spend the whole summer with me, and as if that were not
+joy enough for three people, let alone one, I made all kinds of plans,
+about studying, and teaching you housekeeping, and embroidery, and all
+kinds of things. We were going to read so many hours a day, and work so
+many hours,--my poor Peggy! you would have had an unmerciful kind of
+time!--and everything was going to be quiet and regular and cheerful; I
+never got beyond cheerfulness in my brightest dreams of the summer. But
+even the cheerfulness was far ahead, and just then--before you came--I
+really had difficulty sometimes in keeping a cheerful face for Uncle
+John when he came in. Why--must I tell the whole?"
+
+"Yes, Margaret, every word!"
+
+"I used to go up to Susan D.'s room and cry over her little pinafores
+and things. As for my pincushion, I fairly soaked it with tears when I
+first found it. I told you about the pincushion, didn't I? Why, that
+little lamb, for days before she went, was working away at something,
+she would not let me see what. After she was gone, I went up to my room
+for a quiet cry, and there was a gorgeous new pincushion, and 'I love
+you,' on it in pins. My dear little girl! Well, girls, so--that was the
+way I felt, and the way I acted, most absurdly; and then--all this
+happened. First Hugh dropped from the skies; and then Uncle proposed the
+house party, and you came, Jean, and the Merryweathers; and then you,
+Peggy; and we discovered our dear Grace; and so, instead of a quiet,
+rather humdrum summer, I am having the most enchanting, Arabian-nights
+kind of time that ever was. And how do you think I feel?"
+
+"Phil would say 'like thirty cents!'" said Jean, who was certainly a
+little inclined to be pert.
+
+"If I hear you say anything of the kind, young one, I'll swat--"
+
+"Peggy, dearest!" murmured Margaret, softly.
+
+"I'll speak to you very severely. I am ashamed of you, Kidderminster!"
+
+"Look here, Peggy, I won't stand that!" said Jean. "You promised me,
+when I first came, that you wouldn't call me that."
+
+"Then don't behave like a kid!" retorted Peggy. "There, that's enough.
+Yes, Margaret, it has all been perfectly delightful and fairy-like; and
+then the Mysteries, too, and the hunting, and the Silver Closet, and
+all. Oh, I am so glad we didn't find out everything that first summer. I
+suppose Uncle John thought we were too young and silly then; not that
+you were ever silly, you dear darling thing. But, Margaret, there is one
+thing wanting to it all, and only you and I know what that is."
+
+Margaret nodded. "Yes," she said, with a little sigh. "We want our
+Princess, Peggy. Oh, Grace, if you only knew our Rita! How you and she
+would love each other! Peggy, you said that just at the right moment,
+for I have her last letter in my pocket, on purpose to read to you, and
+I am sure the others would like to hear it, too. Would you, girls?"
+
+There seemed no possible doubt on the subject. All the girls gathered
+about Margaret, sitting on the floor, as they liked best to do. Margaret
+herself took possession of her favorite low chair, and drawing the
+letter from her pocket, began to read:
+
+        "BELOVED MARGUERITE:--I am of return only
+        yesterday from an expedition to the hills, and
+        I find your precious letter waiting for me. No
+        need to tell you that I pressed it to my heart,
+        covered it with kisses. Jack says your letters
+        are the sole thing of which he is jealous. I
+        grieve to hear that you must lose those little
+        ones whom you love so well, even for a short
+        time; but courage, _Margarita mia_; there are
+        other flowers besides roses, and summer is a
+        pleasant time. You will have Peggy with you,
+        dear Peggy! She sends me a photograph, which
+        shows her little changed in the face; still the
+        dimples, still the soft roundness of cheek and
+        chin. Best of Peggys; if I had her here, what
+        great joy! But I must tell you of our ride. We
+        went, Jack and I, up to the hill camp, where we
+        went last year, after the terrible ride you
+        know of. There we spent three happy days,
+        camping in the green hollow among the hills,
+        with only Juan to cook for us and care for the
+        horses. Ah, Marguerite, what a time was that!
+        We visited every spot made sacred to us by our
+        love. The hiding-place, near poor Don
+        Annunzio's house, where I first saw my hero,
+        swinging in his hammock. Have I told you that I
+        thought him a skulker, a coward hiding to
+        escape warfare? How often we have laughed over
+        that! Then we passed along the road, so
+        peaceful now, so wild and horrent then (how is
+        this word, 'horrent,' Marguerite? I find it in
+        a poem, it seems to me noble; I tell Jack, he
+        laughs, and says something like 'high falu--' I
+        cannot tell what!). We paused to weep over the
+        gray heap where once smiled the _residencia_,
+        where that kind old woman and her good vast
+        husband sheltered the wandering maiden,
+        protected her at the risk of their own lives,
+        and--one of them, as you know--died to save her
+        and others. Then farther, to Carlos's old camp,
+        where Manuela and I lived, and where I first
+        learned to be of a little use in the world. Ah,
+        the memories, how they came crowding back! I
+        have told you that Manuela is married to Pepe?
+        Yes; two months ago. The wedding was charming!
+        I gave her her wedding-gown, of finest muslin,
+        suitable to her condition,  with plenty of
+        lace and ribbons, which the poor child values
+        highly, and I dressed her hair (poor Manuela!
+        She would have done it far better herself; she
+        has a wonderful gift. My present maid is a poor
+        creature, but Manuela is to give her lessons),
+        and arranged the veil and wreath. She was a
+        vision of enchantment, and really thrown away
+        on poor Pepe, who never looked at either dress
+        or veil. Jack says 'neither did he.' My dear,
+        these men! To what purpose do we adorn
+        ourselves, exhaust the treasure of our souls,
+        in efforts to please them? But I wander from my
+        story. My child, this expedition, carrying back
+        heart as well as body to the scenes of before
+        our marriage, has told me over again the story
+        of my happiness. Marguerite, how to deserve it,
+        this wonderful bliss? I study, I try, the dear
+        Saint teaches me always many things--in vain! I
+        am debtor to the whole world, and how much more
+        to the gracious Power above worlds! But enough
+        of this, my Pearl! Your time will come; till
+        then you know nothing of it. I pant for your
+        awakening, I burn, Marguerite, but I am
+        powerless. If I had you here, there is a friend
+        of ours, a paladin, a Roland, second only to my
+        Jack--no! This makes you laugh, I feel it, I
+        see your cool, pearly smile. I am angry with
+        you for laughing, yet I laugh, too. So! now of
+        other things. I think of you always; Jack also;
+        I have told him so much, he assassinates
+        himself with desire to see you all. The time
+        will come! Marguerite--no matter! One word
+        only! Our beloved Uncle's birthday; I remember
+        the day, the Fourteenth. You will honor it, I
+        know, as such a day should be honored, the day
+        which blessed the earth with the best
+        man--except  one--that breathes mortal breath.
+        Marguerite, if on that day a trifle should come
+        from the far-away cousins, you will receive it
+        kindly? Ah, how well I know the answer! Bless
+        you, my treasure! I must go to my housekeeping.
+        Dear Donito Miguelito is staying with us now;
+        you can fancy the joy of tending this saintly
+        old man in his feebleness. I prepare myself the
+        little dishes that please him; it is a sacred
+        task; it is like feeding a holy butterfly.
+
+               "Adios, my Marguerite!
+                           "Ever and ever your devoted
+                                             "RITA.
+
+        "You ask of Concepcion. She is married to Diego
+        Moreno, and, as I hear, is very unhappy. Poor
+        woman, I compassionate her!"
+
+After the reading of the letter, Grace slipped away to return to her
+patient, and the three cousins sat together, talking in low tones of
+Rita, and of Grace herself. Jean maintained stoutly that Rita could not
+be so fascinating as Grace. Peggy and Margaret insisted that, though
+totally different in quality, neither could outdo the other in amount of
+charm.
+
+"They are both the kind of girls you would do anything for!" said Peggy;
+"just anything in the world, no matter how foolish, just because they
+wanted you to. It isn't a thing you can describe; it just _is_, and
+nobody can help it."
+
+"Well, I should think the difference would be in the kind of thing they
+would ask you to do," said Jean, with wisdom beyond her years. "Grace
+wouldn't ask you anything foolish, and I should think Cousin Rita
+might."
+
+"Grace!" exclaimed Peggy; and then checked herself loyally. "Grace
+wasn't always so wise as she is now, young one!" she said, simply.
+
+"Well, she's a dear, anyhow; I think Mrs. Peyton might have let her stay
+all night. It's horribly poky, with Uncle John and the boys and
+everybody away. Why, Margaret, there isn't a single man about the place,
+is there? Bannan drove them over, and then he was going to the
+cattle-show, and so was Michael. Suppose there should be robbers, or
+anything!"
+
+"Suppose there should!" said Peggy, coolly. "If Frances and I and the
+dogs could not arrange matters with a robber, it would be a pity.
+Margaret--what is this queer light? Has everything turned red, all of a
+sudden?"
+
+[Illustration: "A TALL, SLENDER FIGURE HALF RAN, HALF TOTTERED INTO THE
+ROOM."]
+
+"The moon rises late to-night," said Margaret. "I have no idea what
+time it is now. It seems an hour since Grace went."
+
+"The moon isn't red, anyhow!" said Peggy. "I believe--"
+
+As she spoke, she rose and went to the window. "Girls!" she cried.
+"There is a fire somewhere near. Come and look!"
+
+Margaret and Jean pressed hastily forward to the window. It was a
+strange scene on which they looked. All of a sudden, the world seemed
+turned to red and black. A crimson light suffused the sky; against it
+the trees stood black as ebony. Even as they looked, a crest of flame
+sprang up above the tree-tops, wavered, and broke into a shower of
+sparks; at the same instant their nostrils were filled with the acrid,
+pungent smell of wood smoke.
+
+"Oh, what is it? Where can it be?" cried Margaret.
+
+"Maybe it's only a bonfire!" said Jean.
+
+Peggy shook her head. "Too big for a bonfire!" she said. "I'll go out
+and see, Margaret. What a pity the boys should miss it! I'll come back
+and let you know--mercy! what's this?"
+
+The door opened, and a tall, slender figure half ran, half tottered
+into the room. "Margaret!" cried a wild voice of terror. "Margaret
+Montfort, save me!"
+
+"Good heavens! Mrs. Peyton!"
+
+"Yes, Emily Peyton. My house is burning. I ran all the way here. I--"
+
+Margaret and Peggy caught her as she fell forward, and laid her on the
+sofa, and while Jean ran for water and Elizabeth, chafed her hands and
+her temples, looking the while anxiously at each other.
+
+"Can you tell us what happened?" asked Margaret, trying to keep her
+voice quiet and even, for Mrs. Peyton was in the wildest agitation. "You
+escaped, thank Heaven! but--is the fire serious? Who is there now? Where
+is Grace Wolfe?"
+
+"Don't leave me!" said the sick woman, with a ghastly look. "Margaret,
+if you leave me I shall die. She--she went back for the jewels. She is
+in the house now."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+THE FIRE
+
+
+The three girls reached the door in the same instant, but Mrs. Peyton
+followed, and still held Margaret's arm in a desperate clutch.
+
+"Don't leave me!" she repeated. "Margaret, don't leave me to die!"
+
+But Margaret put the clinging hands away. "You are not going to die,"
+she said. "You are going to sit down in this chair, Mrs. Peyton, and be
+quiet till I come back. See, here is Elizabeth, with water and cologne,
+and everything comfortable. By and by you shall go up-stairs, but rest
+here now; nothing can happen to you, and I will come back as soon as I
+can."
+
+Wondering at her own hardihood, Margaret ran out, shunning the wild
+pleading of the beautiful eyes which she knew were bent upon her. Jean
+was waiting for her on the step, but Peggy had disappeared.
+
+"She said we were to go on," said Jean, "and she would catch us up.
+Which way, Margaret? I don't know the way."
+
+Margaret led the way through the garden, running as she had never run
+before. They had not gone a hundred yards when Peggy was at their side.
+She had a coil of rope slung over her arm.
+
+"It may be wanted," she said. "I remembered where it always hung. Oh, if
+the boys were only here!"
+
+They ran on in silence, Margaret echoing the cry in her heart. At every
+step the glare grew brighter, the rolling smoke thicker. Margaret
+noticed, and wondered at herself for noticing, that the under side of
+some of the leaves above her head shone red like copper, while others
+were yellow as gold. Every patch of fern and brake, every leaf of box or
+holly, stood out, clear as at noonday.
+
+On, down the long cedar alley, the dew dripping from the branches as
+they closed behind them; over the sunk fence, and across the lower
+garden to the summer-house, Hugh's summer-house. Once Margaret would
+have shuddered at the drop into the meadow below, but Grace's climbing
+lessons had not been given in vain, and, without a moment's hesitation,
+she followed Peggy down the old willow-tree, landing knee-deep in fern
+below.
+
+Now they could hear the roar of the flames, the crackling and snapping
+of burning wood, and, looking up, they saw on the brow of the rise
+beyond, the flames tossing and beckoning over the dark firs of
+Silverfield.
+
+Five minutes more, and, breathless with running, they stood on the lawn
+before the burning house.
+
+The side facing them was already wrapped in flames. Long wavering
+tongues shot through the open windows, and curled round the woodwork,
+lapping it; they purred and chuckled like live creatures over their
+food; they leaped up toward the roof, running along its edge, feeling
+their way higher and higher, while now and then one sprang aloft,
+tossing its scarlet crest over the rooftree itself. Evidently the fire
+had started in the upper story, for in the lower one, though the smoke
+poured dense and black through the open windows, there were no flames
+to be seen yet. Furniture, books, and knick-knacks of every description
+were scattered about the lawn in wild confusion, and two men, half
+stifled with smoke, were struggling frantically with a grand piano, one
+hacking at the window-frame with an axe to widen the opening, the other
+trying desperately to unscrew the legs, as if that would mend matters.
+Seven people out of ten, at a fire, will leave untouched pictures and
+books that can never be replaced, and spend their time and energies in
+trying to save the piano.
+
+The group of frightened women huddled together on the lawn had made
+their attempt, too, to save some of their mistress's property. Even in
+her terror and anguish, Margaret could hardly keep back the thought of a
+smile at their aspect. One clasped a sofa-pillow, one a pair of vases. A
+stout woman, evidently the cook, had a porcelain kettle on either arm,
+and another on her head, while her hands clutched a variety of spoons,
+ladles, cups, and dippers. She evidently had her wits about her more
+than the others, and she was scolding the parlor-maid, a trembling,
+weeping creature, who was holding a small china bowl in both hands, as
+if it were a royal treasure.
+
+"She likes her malted milk in it, you know she does, Mary," said the
+girl. "Only yesterday she was telling me never bring her any bowl except
+this. It's cruel of you to harry me for trying to save what she likes."
+
+"You green goose! What will she want wid the bowl and you not leaving
+her a spoon to sup wid! Where is the key of the safe, I'm askin' ye!
+Maybe James could get it out yet."
+
+"Oh, I don't know! I don't know! I expect I dropped it. I was going to
+get the silver myself; I'd ha' got all of it, without you telling me,
+but when I opened the pantry door, the fire leapt out at me, roaring
+like the pit, and I dropped the key and run. I'm awful sorry, but I've
+got the bowl, and I do wish you'd let me be."
+
+A little apart stood Antonia, the French maid, bearing on her
+outstretched arms a superb tea-gown of violet velvet, embroidered with
+pearls. On it lay a pile of costly laces, slightly blackened by smoke,
+but uninjured. Antonia had done her best, and had saved the treasure of
+her heart. Margaret ran up to her.
+
+"Antonia, where is Miss Wolfe?"
+
+The woman did not seem to hear the question, but burst into agitated
+speech. "Oh, mademoiselle, mademoiselle!" she cried. "Ah, the tragedy!
+of all the robes arrived from Paris last week, but only last week, this
+only remaining! It was all I could save, all! I tried; I burned myself
+the hands, mademoiselle, to rescue the others, the blue crape, the
+adorable lace _jacquettes_, the _satin rose-the_--in vain, all gone, all
+devoured! _Mon Dieu_, and madame had not even had them on! But the lace,
+Mademoiselle Montfort, the point d'Alencon, the Valenciennes, all, I
+have it safe. See, mademoiselle, regard for yourself, _un peu noirci_, a
+leetle blackened, _voila tout_! It is without price, the point
+d'Alencon, you know, Mademoiselle Marguerite."
+
+"Antonia, do you hear me? What do I care about the laces? Where is Miss
+Wolfe?"
+
+"She's mazed, miss!" said Mary, the cook. "She can't talk about nothin'
+but that stuff. Sure Miss Wolfe is at Fernley wid the mistress. It's
+wondher ye didn't meet them on the way, miss. She went wid Mrs. Peyton,
+and me and the other girls stopped behind to see what we could save."
+
+"Oh, no!" cried Margaret. "Mrs. Peyton came alone. She said Miss Wolfe
+came back--for the jewels. She said she was in the house now."
+
+"Lord help her then!" said the parlor-maid. "If she's in the house now,
+she's as good as dead, and worse, too. The stairs has fallen in; Thomas
+seen 'em fall. Oh, dear! oh, dear! what an awful time!"
+
+"Be still, Eliza!" said the cook. "Where's Jenny? She was in the
+sewing-room, next to Miss Wolfe's; maybe she'd know something. Who saw
+Jenny since we come out? Good Lord, where is the child? I thought she
+come with me."
+
+"Oh, Jenny's all right!" moaned Eliza. "She'll have gone straight home.
+She was going home to spend the night anyway, Mary; don't be scaring us
+worse. It's bad enough to lose Miss Wolfe, poor young lady, and she so
+bold and daring!"
+
+"_Hold your tongue!_" said Peggy. "Listen to me, girls, and answer
+plainly, and not all at once like a flock of foolish sheep. Did any one
+see Miss Wolfe go into the house?"
+
+"No, miss, no; we see her go with Mrs. Peyton, and we never thought but
+she was all right."
+
+"She may not be there after all!" said Peggy. "Her room is on the other
+side, isn't it, Margaret? Come on!"
+
+They ran round to the other side of the house. This was apparently still
+untouched, though the fiery tongues came darting over the rooftree every
+now and then, hissing and lapping, and the roof itself was covered with
+sparks and great patches of burning tinder, fragments of the costly
+stuffs and tissues that the house-owner had so dearly prized. The
+windows were closed and silent, but all was bright as day in the red
+glare of the fire.
+
+"Call, Peggy!" whispered Margaret. "I have no voice."
+
+Even as she spoke, a window in the second story was thrown up, and there
+stood Grace herself, very pale, but quiet as usual.
+
+"There's a young woman faint here," she said. "Too much smoke. The
+stairs are gone. Is there a ladder, Peggy? Ah, rope! Much better. Clever
+child! When I say three--throw!"
+
+Oh, the good days on the Western farm, when little Peggy, on her rough
+pony, scampered here and there, lassoing the sheep and calves, and
+getting well scolded in consequence! Oh, the other good days at school,
+where nerve and muscle learned to follow the quick eye, so that thought
+and action seemed to flash together!
+
+The rope hissed upward like a flying snake, but a cloud of smoke drove
+past the window, and the outstretched hands missed it. Again it flew,
+and this time it was caught, drawn up, and knotted tight inside the
+window.
+
+"Now if I had a ladder!" muttered Peggy.
+
+"I saw one," cried Margaret; "I am sure I did. Wait!"
+
+She flew off, and returned followed by a boy with a ladder. It proved
+short by several feet.
+
+"Oh, what shall we do!" cried Margaret.
+
+"Hold the ladder steady!" said Peggy. "She'll see to that end, and I
+can manage this. Hold it!"
+
+Margaret and the boy grasped the ladder; Peggy ran up it, and stood on
+the top rung, holding the lower end of the rope.
+
+"All ready, Goat!" she called.
+
+"Ay, ay!" said the quiet voice within. "Coming, Innocent!"
+
+The women had followed Margaret and Peggy, and now a cry broke from
+them.
+
+"She's got her!"
+
+"'Tis Jenny! She was in there all the time!"
+
+"She's dead!"
+
+"She's not; she's living, I see her move. Oh, Mother of Mercy, they'll
+both be killed before their own eyes!"
+
+What was Grace doing? The form she held in her arms was that of a slight
+girl of fifteen or so. She was knotting something round her, under arms
+and over breast; something half sling, half rope; towels, perhaps, tied
+strongly together. Now she brought the ends over her own shoulders,
+bending forward.
+
+"Now, Peggy!"
+
+"Now!"
+
+With the unconscious child bound to her back, Grace leaned out and
+grasped the rope; another moment and she was swinging on it, clinging
+with hands and feet, the old school way.
+
+Margaret covered her face with her hand and prayed. Peggy, steadying the
+rope with one hand, held out the other, and waited.
+
+Down, hand over hand! Slender hands, to bear the double burden. Delicate
+shoulders, to carry the dead weight that hangs on them. Are they elastic
+steel, those fingers that grip the rope, never slipping, never relaxing
+their hold?
+
+Down, hand over hand! the hands are bleeding now; no matter! the white
+dress is black with smoke, and blood drips on it here and there; what of
+that? it is nearly over.
+
+"Now?" Peggy asked, quietly.
+
+"Now!"
+
+Steadying herself, Peggy left the rope, and received the burden in her
+arms. Grace, holding the rope with one hand, with the other loosed the
+knot, and laid the limp arms over Peggy's neck.
+
+"All right?" she said.
+
+"All right!"
+
+"_Ainsi long!_" and as Peggy carefully slowly descended the ladder,
+Grace turned and began quickly and steadily to climb the rope again.
+
+"Grace! Grace!" cried Margaret. "For God's sake, what are you about?
+Come down! There is no time to lose; come down!"
+
+"And behold, all is vanity!" said Grace; and she disappeared inside the
+burning house.
+
+But Margaret could bear no more. She helped to take the senseless girl
+from Peggy's arms and lay her on the grass; then the world seemed to
+slip from her, and she dropped quietly with her head on Jenny's
+shoulder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+JEWELS: AND AN AWAKENING
+
+
+"Are you better?" said Gerald. "Are you truly better, Miss Margaret? I
+am going to drown myself anyhow in the first bucket I find, and if you
+don't feel better I shall make it a dipper, and that would be so
+inconvenient, don't you know?"
+
+Margaret looked at him, only half hearing what he said.
+
+"Yes, I am better; I am very well, thank you. What happened? Did I
+faint?"
+
+"Yes! you fainted, just as we came up. They wanted to pour water over
+you, but I always think it's such a shame, in books, to spoil their
+clothes, and you have such pretty clothes. So I wouldn't let them. It
+wasn't Peggy, it was a lot of fool cooks and things."
+
+"Did something hurt me?" asked Margaret, vaguely, still feeling that
+she was somebody else making friendly inquiries about herself.
+
+"Yes, I--I pinched you, you dear, sweet, pretty--at least, I don't mean
+that! at least I do mean it, every word, only highly improper under the
+circumstances, but I don't care so long as you are better."
+
+Making a strong effort, Margaret sat up and looked about her. She was
+still on the Silverfield lawn, but some one had drawn her away from the
+neighborhood of the burning house, now a shapeless mass, though still
+burning fiercely, and had pillowed her head on a rolled-up coat. Her
+companion was in his shirt-sleeves, so it was evident whose coat it was.
+
+As she gazed at the blazing ruins, memory came back in a flood.
+
+"Grace!" she cried, wildly. "Where is Grace?"
+
+"Safe," said Gerald, quickly. "Safe and sound. Not a hair singed, though
+it sounds impossible. Most astonishing person I ever saw in my life.
+Came down the rope like a foretopman, hung all over with jewels:
+brooches, chains, and owches, you know,--Scripture,--kind of
+rope-walking Tiffany. You never saw such a thing in your life. Hadn't
+much more than touched the ground, when the roof fell in. Standing luck
+of the British Army, I call that!"
+
+"Oh, thank God! thank God! but where is she? where are they all?"
+
+"Mostly gone to take the fainted girl home. She didn't come to just
+right; choked with the smoke, Hugh thought. Phil and Peggy are carrying
+her, and Miss Wolfe giving moral support. Hugh has gone for the nearest
+doctor. The fool cooks have gone in search of their wits, I suppose;
+they didn't seem to be anywhere round here."
+
+"And--Jean? she was here too; is she all right?"
+
+Gerald hung his head. "She was left to take care of you," he said. "I
+told her I was a medical man, which is strictly untrue, and asked her to
+go back to Fernley to get something, cologne, or rum, or mustard,--I
+forget what I did say. The women bothered and made a noise, so I advised
+them to proceed in the direction of Jericho. Great place, Jericho! They
+went--there or elsewhere. Don't get up yet, please don't! it's always
+better to lie still after a fire, or a faint; how much more after both
+combined!"
+
+"Oh, I must!" said Margaret. "I must go home at once, Mr. Merryweather,
+truly. Oh, thank you, but I can get up perfectly well--only my head is
+queer still. I wish--why did you send Jean away?"
+
+"I didn't want her," said Gerald, meekly. "You looked so pretty--"
+
+"Please don't talk nonsense!"
+
+"I'm not. It's my truthful nature. It comes out in spots, like measles,
+in spite of me. When I was only six years old, I told my nurse she was a
+hideous old squunt, and she was. Fact, or at least justifiable fiction.
+If you must get up, won't you take poor Jerry's arm? just once, before
+he drowns himself? it's your last chance!"
+
+"What _do_ you mean? Why should you drown yourself?"
+
+"Because I missed all the fun, and let you faint, and Miss Wolfe get
+nearly burned up, and Miss Peggy a sight to behold with smoke and
+water, and Hugh all tied up in t l k's, and all for a day's yachting.
+Not that it wasn't great yachting, but there is a sense of proportion."
+
+"What are t l k's?" asked Margaret, smiling faintly. She was recovering
+her composure, and Gerald noted with inward thankfulness her returning
+color. His running fire of nonsense, kept up in the hope of rousing her
+to interest, covered an anxious heart, but he gave no sign.
+
+"T l k's? true lover's knots! none of my business, of course, but the professor
+appears to be interested in the fairacrobat--acrobatess--acrobatia--what
+you will! Give you my word, when he came round the corner and saw her
+coming down that rope, I thought he would curl up into knots himself.
+Jolly stunt! when I first came I was awfully afraid--" Gerald pulled
+himself up suddenly, and blushed scarlet.
+
+"Afraid?" said Margaret, innocently. "Afraid of what?"
+
+"Of bats! When they squeak, I desire to pass away."
+
+"Mr. Merryweather!"
+
+"If you call me Mr. Merryweather any more, I _shall_ pass away, without
+benefit of buckets. Say Gerald! just try it, and see how pretty it
+sounds. Gerald! 'tis a melting mouthful! Sentimental, if you will, but
+what then?"
+
+Margaret laughed in spite of herself. "I must say, as Frances did, I
+never see such a bold boy since born I was!" she said. "Well, Gerald,
+then; and now, Gerald, here we are at the house, and would you please go
+round the north way, and not come into the library just now? Thank you
+ever so much for helping me! No, I must go in, I truly must."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mrs. Peyton was sitting bolt upright on the sofa on which they had laid
+her. Her face was absolutely colorless; it might have been an ivory
+statue, but for the ghastly look of the blue eyes. She fixed her eyes on
+Margaret, but said nothing. Margaret ran to her, and put her arms round
+her. "Oh, how could they leave you alone?" she cried. "She is safe;
+every one is safe, dear Mrs. Peyton. No one hurt, only Jenny overcome
+with the smoke a little. I thought Jean would have told you."
+
+The ivory figure began to tremble. With shaking hands she tried to put
+Margaret away from her; then, with a sudden revulsion of feeling, she
+clung to her and burst into tears.
+
+"I sent them away!" she whispered through her sobs. "I would not have
+them look at me. Margaret--are you sure? that girl, is she truly safe?"
+
+"Truly and honestly, dear Mrs. Peyton. It was a most marvellous escape,
+but she is absolutely unharmed, and she saved another life beside her
+own. But for Grace, poor little Jenny must have been lost. She is a
+heroine, our Grace!"
+
+"I did not mean to kill her!" said the poor woman. "I did not realize
+what it meant. I said, 'My jewels! my jewels!' and I don't know what
+other nonsense. She never said a word, just turned and went back.
+Then--oh! then, when you were all gone, I understood, I saw, that I had
+sent her to her death for those--those horrible things. Never--never let
+me see them again! I have been sitting here--years, it seems to
+me--waiting to hear that she was dead; perhaps to see her body brought
+in, all--"
+
+"Oh, hush, hush, Mrs. Peyton! You will make yourself ill. You are only
+distressing yourself beyond all need. She is safe, I tell you. In a few
+moments you will see for yourself--"
+
+At this moment the door opened, and Grace stood before them. She was a
+strange figure indeed. Black with smoke, her fair hair gray with ashes,
+her dress torn and discolored; but sparkling with jewels as never was
+any ballroom belle. Superb necklaces of diamond and emerald hung around
+her neck; her arms glittered with bracelets, her fingers were loaded
+with rings, while ropes of amethyst and pearl were wound around her head
+and even about her waist.
+
+"All the way over," said Grace, "I have been pitying the robber who
+didn't meet me, and so lost the great chance of his life. So sad for
+him!"
+
+Margaret recalled Gerald's expression, "a rope-walking Tiffany," and
+could not help smiling in spite of her anxiety; but Mrs. Peyton hid her
+face in her hands.
+
+"Take them away!" she said. "Take them off, Grace! I never want to see
+them again. Horrible things, all blood and flame! who knows how many
+other lives they have cost? and it is no fault of mine that they have
+not cost yours. No fault of mine!"
+
+This was so true, that neither Grace nor Margaret spoke. Mrs. Peyton
+rose, and moved restlessly about the room.
+
+"Incidentally," she said, "I have got well."
+
+Grace glanced at Margaret, but still neither spoke. Mrs. Peyton gave
+Grace a strange look. "You didn't set fire to the house deliberately, I
+suppose?" she said.
+
+"I did not!" said Grace, bluntly. "To be honest, I have thought of
+it--thought, I mean, of the effect it might produce; but it isn't a
+thing one does in general society."
+
+"I remember!" said Mrs. Peyton, dreamily. "I remember. I did it myself."
+
+"Did it yourself?" cried Margaret, aghast. Grace was silent.
+
+"I threw the candle down. I had been looking in the glass, and I found a
+new wrinkle, a horrible one. I threw the candle down, and it fell on a
+roll of cotton wool. How it went! I can hear the sound now, and see the
+fire run--run!"
+
+"I wouldn't talk about it any more," said Grace, quietly.
+
+"I must. I must tell it all. She--Grace, there--found me; it had caught
+my bed, and the curtains were blazing. She carried me out of the room
+and down the stairs herself. What is she made of? She isn't so tall as
+I. Then--at the door--she set me down and told me to run, and I ran. We
+ran together, till the devil brought these things into my mind, and I
+sent her back to be burned up for my vanity."
+
+"I wasn't burned up," said Grace, composedly; "and as you remarked just
+now, Mrs. Peyton, you have got well. Do you want to know what I think?"
+
+"Yes, Grace--"
+
+"I think--that the game was worth the candle!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+FOR AULD LANG SYNE
+
+
+"Confess that I have surprised you, John Montfort!" said Mrs. Peyton.
+
+"I do confess it, Emily," Mr. Montfort answered, gravely. "But I am
+truly glad that my house has been able to afford you shelter when you
+were in need of it."
+
+"That is as much as to say, that under other circumstances--never mind!
+I am not going to quarrel with you, John."
+
+"I trust not," said Mr. Montfort, still speaking with grave courtesy.
+
+If Margaret had been present, she would have wondered at the change in
+her uncle's face. The warmth, the genial light of kindness, was clean
+gone out of it; it was an older and a sterner man who sat in the great
+armchair and looked steadily and quietly at his visitor.
+
+Mrs. Peyton smiled, then frowned; at last she sighed.
+
+"I never meant to hurt you, John," she said, softly. "Thirty years is a
+long time to hate a person who--who never hated you."
+
+"I have never hated you, Emily," said Mr. Montfort, not unkindly. "Our
+paths have not crossed--"
+
+Mrs. Peyton laughed. "No, they have not crossed. You took care of that.
+They have only run alongside each other--with the garden wall between."
+
+"And nothing else?" said John Montfort.
+
+She was silent for a moment. Then, "I never meant to make trouble
+between you and Rose!"
+
+"You never did," said Mr. Montfort, tranquilly.
+
+"I know! but--you thought I tried. I did tell you a lie that night, when
+I said she would not see you. How could I know that she was going to die
+before you came back from the West? I--I wanted to see you myself; that
+was no such dreadful sin, was it? I was sorry--sorry, I tell you, when I
+heard of her death. Thirty years ago, and I have never been able to
+speak to you alone till to-day. I--I had to burn my house down to get a
+chance to make my peace with you, John Montfort. No, I don't mean that I
+did it on purpose, though I am not sure that it wouldn't--aren't you
+going to forgive me, John, after all these years?"
+
+Mr. Montfort rose. He was very pale, but he spoke steadily. "Emily, it
+is hardly strange that I do not care to open old wounds. If I have been
+unkind, I am sorry for it. I do forgive you, fully and freely. Now, let
+the past alone. What can I do for you in the present, and how help you
+to provide for the future? I have not been a good neighbor, I confess
+it; I will try to prove myself a better one henceforward."
+
+Mrs. Peyton laughed her little mocking laugh. "It will be easier than
+you think, John. I am going to Europe, and I don't know whether I shall
+ever come back."
+
+"Going to Europe, Emily? Are you strong enough?"
+
+"I am perfectly well!" said Mrs. Peyton, simply. "Doctor Flower has been
+telling me for several years that there was nothing really the matter
+with me any more, and that I could be well if I wanted. Grace Wolfe made
+me feel the same thing. Well, now I do want it. The fire lighted up a
+good many things for me, and showed me the way. I have no house to live
+in; I am alone in the world; I may as well be doing things as staying in
+bed, of which I am really very tired. I am writing to my man of business
+to take places for Antonia and me on next week's steamer for Paris. I've
+half a mind to take Grace Wolfe, too, if she will go."
+
+"I have asked Grace to make her home with us for the present," said Mr.
+Montfort, quickly. "Next year I expect to take her and Margaret abroad
+together."
+
+Mrs. Peyton laughed again. "I can't even have her! Well--never mind. I
+love her, but she frightens me. She might have catalepsy again,--though
+I rather think that was a clever device for getting me out of bed,--and
+I want to forget everything connected with sickness. But--John--there is
+something you can do for me. This girl risked her life to save my
+jewels, the playthings I have tried to amuse myself with these many
+years. I want you to sell them for me, and give her the money."
+
+"Sell your jewels, Emily!"
+
+"Yes. I never want to see them again." She shuddered slightly, but her
+voice was firm and steady.
+
+"They are all here, in this basket. Lock them up now, and the next time
+you go to town sell them, and invest the money for Grace Wolfe. Will you
+do this for me, John? It is the only thing I shall ever be likely to ask
+you."
+
+"Indeed I will, Emily!" said Mr. Montfort, speaking with much more
+warmth than he had hitherto shown. "It will be a grateful commission.
+Shall I look?--these things are of great value, Emily. There are
+thousands of dollars' worth of trump--of trinkets here."
+
+"So much the better for Grace!"
+
+"There is nothing you would like to keep? None of these diamonds?"
+
+"No; I detest diamonds! When a complexion begins to go--never mind!
+Stay, though! Margaret liked that pink pearl; sweet little prim
+Margaret, who has given me most of the little pleasure I have had these
+last three years. You'll let her have it, John? I beg you to let me
+give it to her!"
+
+"Surely, surely, my dear Emily. It is a beautiful gem, and I am glad
+that my Margaret should have something to remember you by while you are
+gone. And now shake hands, for I must be off."
+
+"You are going away?"
+
+"For the night only. I was to have spent two or three days in town on
+business, but hurried home on hearing of the fire. I shall be back
+to-morrow, or next day at latest."
+
+"And--I may stay here till then, John?"
+
+"My dear Emily, I earnestly beg that you will stay as long as it is
+convenient to you. You must have many things to arrange; pray consider
+Fernley as your own house until you have everything comfortably
+settled."
+
+"Thank you, John! I heard your own voice then, the kindest voice
+that--good-by, John Montfort!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Gone, you say, Margaret? When did she go? I fully expected to see her
+again."
+
+"This afternoon, Uncle John. We could not persuade her to stay longer.
+Her man of business came down this morning early, and arranged
+everything with the farmer and the servants, and finally took her and
+Antonia back with him. It is very sudden! I should be frightened at her
+attempting the voyage, but Grace says it is just what Doctor Flower has
+been wishing and hoping for. Poor Mrs. Peyton! I shall miss her very
+much, Uncle John. She is very, very lovable; and, somehow, these few
+days have so softened and changed her--I hardly know how to put it, but
+it is as if her heart had waked up after a long sleep."
+
+"Perhaps it has!" said Mr. Montfort, thoughtfully. "Poor Emily! she has
+had an unhappy life; yet when she was your age, Margaret, Emily
+Silverton thought she had the world at her feet. Life is instructive, my
+child. Did she tell you what she had done about Grace?"
+
+Margaret shook her head. "She said you would have something to tell me,
+but she would not say anything more. She was bent on keeping control
+over her nerves, I think, so I tried just to keep things quiet and
+cheerful, and I saw that was what she wanted. What is it about Grace?"
+
+Thereupon Mr. Montfort told the story of the jewels, and how he had
+taken them to town with him the day before. "It will be a great change
+for our Grace," he said. "She has had very little money, I think you
+told me, Margaret?"
+
+"Oh, almost none, Uncle John. She has had a very, very hard time; and
+since her father died last year--she seems to have no other
+relations--she has supported herself entirely. Oh, this is a kind thing
+of Mrs. Peyton; and I understand just how she feels and why she wants to
+do it. Aren't the jewels worth a good deal, Uncle John?"
+
+"Guess how much, little girl!"
+
+"How can I? Perhaps as much as a thousand dollars? Oh, Uncle John!"
+
+"Perhaps, Margaret; my child, Tiffany's head man thinks,--he could not
+price them all exactly,--but, roughly speaking, he thinks--that this
+collection is worth--fifty thousand dollars. Grace is, comparatively
+speaking, a rich woman."
+
+Margaret stood speechless, in utter amazement. At this moment there was
+a sound, as of a book falling to the ground, and a smothered
+exclamation. Both started and looked round, as Hugh Montfort rose from
+the corner where he had been seated and came slowly forward. He was very
+pale, and seemed to bear more heavily on his stick than usual.
+
+"You knew I was here, Margaret?" he said, with a look that tried to be
+unconcerned. "I trust I have not overheard anything that I should not. I
+was writing, and thought you saw me when you came in."
+
+"No secrets, my boy, no secrets!" said Mr. Montfort, heartily. "You
+heard this great piece of news about our little friend, did you? She
+does not know it herself yet; Margaret must tell her. Margaret, you have
+deserved this pleasure, my dear, and I rejoice in making it over to
+you."
+
+The good man was glowing with pleasure and good will; but for once he
+met no response from Hugh, who, pale and gloomy, stared before him as if
+he had seen a ghost.
+
+"My dear fellow," cried Mr. Montfort, changing his tone at once, "you
+are not well. How pale you are! or--you have had no bad news, Hugh?
+Nobody ill at home, eh? Your father--"
+
+"No, no, sir, all well! Father is in perfect trim; I have just been
+reading a letter from him, Uncle John; you must hear it, sometime when
+you are not busy. Don't look at me like that, Margaret! I--my head aches
+a little, if I must confess. Did you never see any one with a headache
+before?"
+
+Was it possible that Hugh was out of temper? Neither Mr. Montfort nor
+Margaret could believe it at first; both gazed at him, expecting the
+usual kindly smile to begin in his eyes and break gradually over his
+face; but no smile came. Mr. Montfort, who had lived many years and seen
+many things, was the first to recover himself; he passed Hugh with a
+friendly pat on the shoulder, and, nodding to Margaret, went out of the
+room. Margaret remained still, looking earnestly in her cousin's face,
+unconscious of offence.
+
+"Dear Hugh," she said, affectionately, "I am so sorry! Let me get you
+something--one of those tablets that relieved you last time."
+
+"No, no!" said Hugh. "It is nothing, Margaret, nothing at all. So Miss
+Wolfe is a rich woman, is she, and spoilt for life? And you are glad,
+you and Uncle John! Well, I am sorry, for my part; sorry from the bottom
+of my heart. It is an iniquity."
+
+"Hugh!"
+
+"It is! She will grow into an idle fine lady, like this very Mrs.
+Peyton, who throws about her gewgaws at every whim. Her life will be
+frittered away over dresses and frippery and fashion. Instead of a
+worker, a real woman, with a woman's work and aims, you will have a
+butterfly, pretty and useless, fluttering about in the sunshine, unable
+to bear rough weather. A fine piece of work it will be, the ruining of a
+girl like that."
+
+Margaret stood aghast, and for a few moments found no words. Her
+cousin's face showed that he was only too deeply in earnest; his eyes
+glowed with sombre fire, and a dark red spot burned in his cheek. When
+Margaret did speak at last, her eyes were tender, but her voice was
+grave, almost stern. "Hugh," she said, "I hardly know you; and I see
+that you do not know Grace in the least. I thought--I thought you
+did--understand her, better perhaps than any one else did; but if you
+can say such things as these, I see I was utterly mistaken. She, spoiled
+by a little prosperity? Oh, how can you? For shame, Hugh!"
+
+Hugh looked up at her suddenly. "Oh, Margaret!" he said. "Margaret, have
+patience with me! I--I am not myself to-day. My head--there is something
+wrong with me."
+
+"Yes, dear," said Margaret, tenderly. "Go and lie down, Hugh, won't you?
+And I'll bring you some cracked ice. That always helps a little."
+
+"I don't want to lie down, and I don't want any cracked ice; thank
+you all the same, good little sister-cousin! I'll go out into the
+garden, I think. The trees will be the best thing for me to-day.
+And--Margaret--forget what I said, will you? It is none of my business,
+of course; only--good-by, little girl!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+IN THE GARDEN
+
+
+"But, Grace--"
+
+"But-ter, Margaret!"
+
+"My dear, please don't be absurd!"
+
+"My angel, I am not half so absurd as you are. Why, in the name of all
+that is incongruous, should I take this lady's money? Is thy servant a
+dog, that she should do this thing?"
+
+"Listen, Grace! You are wholly, utterly wrong. Listen to me! Let us sit
+down here by the summer-house and have it out. No, you have said enough;
+it is my turn now. You talk about yourself, and your independence and
+freedom, and I don't know what. My dear, I want you to forget yourself,
+and think of her."
+
+"Of her? What difference does it make to her?"
+
+"All the difference in the world, it may be. What is that noise?"
+
+"It is I!" said Hugh, emerging from the summer-house. "I seem fated to
+be an eavesdropper, and yet I am not one by nature. Pardon me, young
+ladies!"
+
+He was about to pass them with a formal bow, but Margaret, with a sudden
+inspiration, caught his arm. "No!" she cried, "I want you to hear what I
+am going to say. You, too, misunderstand--sit down, Hugh, and listen!
+Please!" she added, in the tone that seldom failed to win any heart.
+
+Hugh hesitated, but finally sat down, looking very grim, and stared at
+the box-tree in front of him. Margaret went on, hurriedly, moved for
+once out of her gentle calm.
+
+"This lady--I must speak plainly, though she is my friend--has lived a
+selfish, empty, idle life. She was very beautiful and very rich, really
+one of the great beauties and heiresses, and--and that was all. She was
+brought up by a worldly aunt--her mother died when she was little--and
+married to some one whom she cannot have cared for very much, I am
+afraid; and she never had any children. Then came all this ill health.
+Oh, Grace, I can't help it if it wasn't all real, she certainly has
+suffered a great deal; and through it all she has been alone, loving no
+one, and with no one to love her. She will not see any of her own
+people, cousins--she has no one nearer; she says they are all mercenary.
+I don't know, of course, but it is one of the terrible things about
+having a great deal of money, that you think everybody wants it, whether
+they do or not. Now, at last, before it was too late,--oh, I am so
+thankful for that,--the change has come. She has waked up, and it is all
+owing to you, Grace. Yes, it is! I have been fond of her, and she has
+petted me, and been very good to me, and given me things, but I never
+could open her eyes, try as I would. Now, you have done it, dear. You
+not only saved her life actually--yes, you did, Grace; she told me all
+about it; she never would have got out of that room alive but for
+you--you not only saved her life, but you have given her some idea of
+how to live. She wants to do something in return. It is the first time,
+I do believe, that she has wanted _really_ to help some one else. When
+she gave me prettinesses, it was because it amused her to do it, not
+because I needed them, nor because she was thinking specially about me.
+
+"Grace, if you refuse this; if you shut back the kindly impulse, the
+desire to help some one, I tell you you will be doing a wrong thing. It
+is nothing in the world but pride, selfish pride, that is speaking in
+you. Tell me again--tell Hugh, what Mrs. Peyton said to you when she
+went away."
+
+"She said--" Grace's voice had not its usual cool evenness, but was
+husky, and faltered now and then--"she said, 'Do not refuse my last
+wish! I do not tell you what it is, for fear you should refuse at once,
+and shut me up with myself again. Do not refuse, for the sake of
+Christian kindness, of which I have known nothing hitherto, but which I
+mean to learn something about if I can.'"
+
+"And then?"
+
+"And then--she kissed me--Margaret, it is brutal of you to make me tell
+this!--she kissed me twice, and said--" Grace's voice broke.
+"I--cannot!" she faltered.
+
+Margaret rose to her feet with a sudden impulse. "Hark!" she said. "Is
+that Uncle John calling me? Wait here, please, both of you!" and she
+ran off, never looking behind her. It was the first and last deceitful
+act of Margaret Montfort's life.
+
+There was a long silence. Hugh Montfort stared at the box-tree. Grace
+cried a little, quietly; then wiped away her tears, not noticing them
+much, and observed an ant running along the path. At last, "Well?" said
+Hugh.
+
+"Well!" said Grace. "I am sorry to have made such a spectacle of myself.
+Is there anything to say?"
+
+Hugh plucked a box-leaf and scrutinized it carefully.
+
+"They make these things so even!" he said.
+
+"Machinery never could--Let me tell you a story. Do you mind? Once upon
+a time there was a man--or--well, call him a man! He was part of one,
+anyhow, as much as accident allowed. He was not strong, but he could
+work, and he meant to work, and do things he cared about, and lead as
+good a life as he knew how. He had been a good deal alone, somehow,
+though he had dear good people of his own; he was an odd stick, I
+suppose, as odd as the one he walked with."
+
+He stopped, glanced at his stick, with its handle worn smooth as glass;
+then he went on.
+
+"He had never seen much of women, except his own family; never thought
+about them much as individuals, though always in his mind there was a
+dream--I suppose all men have it--of some one he should meet some day,
+who would turn the world from gray to gold. One day--he saw a vision;
+and--after that--he learned, not all at once, but little by little, that
+life was not full and rounded, as he had thought it, but empty and
+one-sided and unprofitable, if this vision could not be always before
+his eyes; if this one woman could not come into his life, to be his
+star, his light, his joy and happiness. She was poor, like himself. He
+thought of working for her, of sharing with her the honest, laborious,
+perhaps helpful life he had planned, the life of a Western forester,
+living among the woods and mountains, studying the trees he loved,
+learning the secrets of nature at first hand, teaching his beloved all
+the little he knew, and learning more, a thousandfold more, from every
+look of her eyes, every tone of her wonderful voice.
+
+"Well--while he dreamed--something happened. Suddenly, by a wave of a
+wand, as in the fairy tales, his maiden was transformed. Instead of the
+orphan girl, working bravely with her brave hands to earn her bread, he
+saw--a rich woman! saw the woman he loved condemned by the idle whim of
+an idle pleasure-seeker to sit with folded hands, or play with toys and
+trinkets. He was filled with rage; he hated the very sound of the word
+money, because--it seemed to him that this money would rob him of his
+darling. I--he--"
+
+Hugh broke off suddenly. "I am the greatest fool in the world!" he said.
+"Grace, do you understand me? Do you know what I am trying to say?"
+
+It was the merest whisper that replied, "I don't--know--"
+
+"Yes, you do." Hugh caught the slender hands, and held them close. "You
+know, you must know, that I have cared for you ever since that first
+wonderful moment, when you broke through the leaves like sunshine, and
+I saw the face I had dreamed of all my life. You must have felt it, all
+these weeks. Oh, Margaret is right, I suppose. All she says is true
+enough; if you can help this poor woman by taking her wretched money, I
+suppose you will have to do it. But--but I lose my princess, before ever
+I could win her. I can't ask a rich woman to be my wife."
+
+While Hugh was speaking, Grace's head had drooped lower and lower, as if
+she shrank under the weight that was laid upon her; but now she looked
+up bravely, with a lovely light in her eyes. "Can't you, Hugh?" she
+said. "It's a pity you can't, Hugh, because--you could have her for the
+asking."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+UNCLE JOHN'S BIRTHDAY
+
+
+If Timothy Bannan has had scant mention in these pages, it is not
+because he was not an important personage at Fernley. King of the
+stable, governor of the dogs, chief authority on all matters pertaining
+to what Gerald called "four-leggers," he was as much a part of the
+establishment as Frances herself. In person he was a small man, with
+reddish-gray whiskers, an obstinate chin, and a kindly twinkling eye. He
+usually wore a red waistcoat with black sleeves, and he was suspected of
+matrimonial designs on Elizabeth.
+
+One morning, not long after the events of which I have been telling,
+Bannan approached his master, who was tying up roses, Margaret, as
+usual, attending him with shears and ball of twine.
+
+"If you please, sir," said Bannan, touching his hat, "would it be
+convenient for me to take a horse this evening, sir?"
+
+Mr. Montfort straightened himself, and looked with friendly interest at
+his retainer.
+
+"A horse, Bannan? Certainly! What horse do you want?"
+
+Bannan looked embarrassed. "I was thinking of taking Chief, if you was
+anyways willing, sir." Now Chief was the pride of the Fernley stable.
+Mr. Montfort opened his eyes a little.
+
+"Going far, Bannan?"
+
+"N--not so very far, sir. I was wishful to try him with the new cart, if
+you had no objections."
+
+The new cart was a particularly stylish and comfortable wagonette,
+bought for Margaret to take her young friends out in, and Mr. Montfort's
+eyes opened still wider.
+
+"Well, Bannan--of course you will be careful. You want to take some
+friends out, eh?"
+
+This simple question seemed to embarrass Bannan strangely. He reddened,
+and taking off his cap, turned it round and round in his hands. "No,
+sir, I shouldn't presume--that is to say, not exactly friends, sir, and
+yet not anyways the reverse. But if it's not agreeable to you, sir,
+I'll take the old mare and the Concord wagon."
+
+"No, no," said Mr. Montfort, kindly. "Take Chief and the cart by all
+means, Bannan. I wish you a pleasant drive with your--friends." Bannan
+thanked him and withdrew, and Mr. Montfort turned to Margaret with a
+smile and a sigh. "Does that mean Elizabeth and matrimony, Margaret?
+What will Frances say?"
+
+"Indeed, Uncle, I am quite sure that Elizabeth would disapprove as much
+as Frances of Bannan's taking Chief and the wagonette. You are too
+indulgent, dear sir."
+
+"I suppose I am," said Mr. Montfort. "I suppose, also, that I am too old
+to change. But I never knew Bannan to do such a thing before."
+
+Meanwhile, Bannan was standing at the kitchen door, fuming. "If ever I
+do sich a thing again, Frances, you may cut me up and serve me in a
+gravy-boat."
+
+"Nobody'd touch ye!" said Frances. "Ye've got to have juice to make
+gravy, ye little bones-bag. I told ye let me see to it; men-folks
+always messes when they try to manage nice things. It's like as if you
+started to whip cream with a garding hose."
+
+"I don't care!" said Bannan. "'Twas me the telegram come to, and 'twas
+me they expected to see to it. You'd like to boss everything and
+everybody on the place, Frances."
+
+"I'll boss you with this mop, little man, if you give me any sauce,"
+said Frances, with massive calm. "Go away now and feed your beasts; it's
+what you're best at."
+
+"But you'll have the supper ready and all, Frances? If I can feed
+beasts, you can feed their masters, I'm bound to own that," said Bannan,
+presenting this transparent sop with an air of hopeful diffidence.
+
+"Go 'long with ye!" said Frances, loftily, yet with a suggestion of
+softening in her voice. "I've kep' Mr. John's birthday for twenty years,
+but I reckon you'd better tell me how to do it this time."
+
+"And you'll tell nobody about--them--"
+
+But here Frances raised the mop with such a businesslike air that Bannan
+took himself off, grumbling and shaking his head.
+
+Left alone, Frances fell into a frenzy of preparation, and when Margaret
+found her half an hour later, she was beating eggs, stoning raisins, and
+creaming butter, apparently all at the same moment. An ardent
+consultation followed. What flavor would Mr. John (Frances would never
+say Mr. Montfort) like best for the ice-cream? and the cake--would a
+caramel frosting be best, or a boiled frosting with candied fruits
+chopped into it? and for the small cakes, now, and the tartlets?
+
+Mr. Montfort's birthday came, as most birthdays do, once a year.
+Considering this, it was a singular thing that he, the most methodical
+of men, who turned his calendar as regularly as he wound his watch,
+never seemed to remember it. He never failed to be astonished at
+Margaret's morning greeting. More than this, he apparently forgot it as
+soon as it was over, for he always had a fresh stock of astonishment on
+hand for the health-imperilling feast that Frances was sure to arrange
+for the evening. To-day he took no notice of the fact that wherever he
+went he came upon some girl or boy carrying armfuls of flowers and
+ferns, or arranging them in bowls, jars, and vases. When he found his
+desk heaped with a tangle of clematis and wild lilies,--Peggy had
+dropped them there "just for a minute," half an hour before,--this
+excellent man merely said "Charming," and rescued his pet Montaigne from
+the wet sprays which covered it. In the course of the morning, Fernley
+House was transformed into a bower of greenery, lit up with masses of
+splendid color. Everywhere drooped or nodded clusters of ferns, the
+ostrich fern and the great Osmunda Regalis, with here and there masses
+of maiden-hair, most delicate and beautiful of all. In the library,
+especially, the ferns were arranged with all the skill and care that
+Margaret possessed. They outlined the oaken shelves, their delicate
+tracery seeming to lie lovingly against the rich mellow tints of morocco
+and vellum; they waved from tall vases of crystal and porcelain; they
+spread their lace-like fronds in flat bowls and dishes. "I don't see how
+there can be any left," said Peggy; "it seems as if we had all the ferns
+in the world, and yet in the woods it didn't seem to make any
+difference. Oh, Jean, isn't it just splendid!"
+
+"Corking!" said Jean.
+
+"Jean, I won't have you say that."
+
+"Well, the Merryweathers say it all the time, Peggy. They never say
+anything else, except when Margaret is round; you know they don't."
+
+"The Merryweathers are boys, and you are a girl, and there is all the
+difference in the world," said Peggy, loftily. "Jean, it is high time
+you went to school."
+
+"Oh, bother school! I have two ponies to break this fall, and Pa has
+promised to let me drive the reaper around the hundred-acre field."
+
+Peggy said nothing, being a wise as well as an affectionate elder
+sister; but she resolved to consult Hugh, and to write to "Pa" without
+delay.
+
+So the morning passed in preparation and mystery. Then in the afternoon
+came a drive in the great open car, a delightful vehicle, holding eight
+people comfortably. Peggy sat on the box--happy Peggy!--and drove the
+spirited black horses. Uncle John was by her side, and they recalled
+merrily the day when, as John Strong, he took his first drive with her,
+and decided that she was to be trusted with a horse.
+
+"Oh, what fun we did have that summer!" cried Peggy. "Only--we had no
+Uncle John. Oh, Uncle, if we had Rita here, wouldn't it be too
+absolutely perfect for anything?"
+
+"It would be very delightful," said Mr. Montfort. "I would give a good
+deal to see that dark-eyed lassie and her gallant Jack. I think I must
+take you and Margaret to Cuba one of these days, Peggy, to see them. How
+would you like that, Missy?"
+
+"Oh, Uncle John!" cried Peggy; and she almost dropped the whip, in the
+effort to squeeze his arm and turn a corner at the same moment.
+
+But the best of all was when the whole family assembled in the library
+before supper, the girls in their very prettiest dresses, with flowers
+in their hair, the lads brave in white duck waistcoats, with roses and
+ferns in their buttonholes. Then the girls presented the gifts they had
+made for the beloved uncle; Margaret's book, a fine old copy of the
+"Colloquies of Erasmus," bound by her own hands in gold-stamped brown
+leather, Peggy's mermaid-penwiper, with a long tail of sea-green sewing
+silk, and the pincushion on which Jean had spent many painful hours in
+her efforts to make the ferns look like ferns instead of like green hen
+feathers. Grace had woven a basket of sweet rushes, of quaint and
+graceful pattern, which Mr. Montfort declared was what he had dreamed of
+all his life, while Hugh produced a box of wonderful cigars, which had a
+history as mysterious and subtle as their fragrance. Lastly, the
+Merryweathers, declaring that they had no gift but themselves, and that
+if Mr. Montfort would be graciously pleased to accept them, they were
+his, proceeded to go through a series of acrobatic performances, which
+brought cries of admiration from all the beholders.
+
+While this was going on, Margaret took advantage of the interlude
+(though she was loth to lose one of Gerald's graceful postures) to run
+out and see if supper was ready. She came back with a rueful
+countenance, and whispered to Peggy, "Supper will not be ready for ten
+minutes yet, and Frances is in a most frightful temper. She actually
+drove me out of the kitchen; said she would not be bothered with foolish
+children, and she would not send supper in till Bannan came back, if it
+cost her her place."
+
+"Bannan? What has Bannan to do with supper?"
+
+"Bringing something, I suppose; some extra frill she has prepared as a
+surprise. She is always savage when she has a surprise on foot. Hark!
+There are wheels now. Listen! Yes, they are going round to the back
+door. Bannan has come, then, and we may hope for food. Oh, do look at
+those boys! Did you ever see anything like that?"
+
+All eyes were fixed on the twins, who, after every variety of separate
+antic, now proceeded to perform what they called a patent reversible
+waltz. Standing on their hands, they twined their feet together in the
+air, and revolved gracefully, moving in unison, and keeping time to the
+waltz they whistled. The whole company was watching this proceeding with
+such absorbed attention that no one saw the door at the back of the hall
+open silently; no one noticed the figure that stole noiselessly
+through, and now stood motionless in the doorway. A young woman,
+slender, richly dressed, beautiful exceedingly; with a certain foreign
+grace, which struck the eye even more than her beauty. But it was
+neither the grace nor the beauty that was first to be seen now; it was
+the light of love in the large dark eyes, the soft fire of joy and
+tenderness and mirth that shone from them, and seemed to irradiate her
+whole figure as she stood there, erect, yet seeming to sway forward, her
+hand on the door, her eyes bent on the group before her. Her gaze
+wandered for a moment to the guests: the revolving boys, Grace and Hugh
+in their quiet corner together, Jean staring with open eyes and mouth;
+but after a wondering look, it came back and settled again on the
+central group, Mr. Montfort, in his great armchair, Peggy and Margaret
+each on a stool beside him, leaning against his knees. Was the group
+complete? or was there room for another by that good man's side?
+
+Jean was the first to look up and see the newcomer. She started
+violently. "My goodness!" she cried, "who is that?" The next instant a
+cry rang out, as Margaret and Peggy sprang forward, "Rita! Rita!"
+
+But Rita was too quick for them. Before they were well on their feet she
+had them both in her arms, and was weeping, sobbing, laughing, and
+kissing, all in a breath. With the next breath she had sunk at Mr.
+Montfort's feet, and, seizing his hand, pressed it passionately to her
+lips.
+
+"My dear child," cried Uncle John, blushing like a girl, and drawing
+away his hand in great discomposure. "Don't, my love; pray don't. Rita!
+is it possible that this is really you? What does it mean?"
+
+"What does it mean, my uncle? It means that even in Cuba we know the
+days of the month. Dearest and best of men, I wish you a thousand
+returns of the day,--five, ten thousand returns, and each one more
+blissful than the last. Marguerite, my angel, you are more beautiful
+than ever. Angel is no longer the word; you are a seraph! Embrace me
+again! Peggy, you are a mountain; but a veritable mountain of roses and
+cream! Dear little huge creature, I adore you. But where, then, is the
+rest of me? Jack! Figure to yourself a husband who skulks in doorways at
+a moment like this! Come forth, thou!"
+
+Jack Del Monte advanced laughing; behind him in the passage the three
+conspirators, Frances, Elizabeth, and Bannan, peered triumphant. "My
+dear," said Jack, "I was merely waiting for my cue. You would not have
+had me spoil your entrance, you know you would not. Uncle John--I may
+say Uncle John? thanks!--I hope you will forgive Rita's little stratagem
+for the sake of the pleasure it has given her."
+
+"My dear nephew," said Uncle John, "you have brought me the most
+enchanting birthday gift that ever a man had. Let me look at you again,
+Rita! If ever happiness agreed with a person--but I must not begin upon
+compliments now. I want you to know these cousins and friends. Here is
+Hugh Montfort and Jean; here is Grace Wolfe, who is to be your cousin
+one of these good days; and here are our friends Gerald and Philip
+Merryweather. You have all heard of one another; let us all be friends
+at once, without further ceremony, and keep this joyful feast
+together."
+
+"Supper is served, sir," said Elizabeth.
+
+A joyful feast it was indeed. The table, decked with ferns and roses,
+was covered with every good thing that Frances could think of, and she
+could think of a good many. The candles shed their cheerful light on
+all, though the faces hardly needed the artificial light. Amid general
+mirth, Rita told of her plan; her letter of inquiry to Frances and
+Elizabeth, asking if all were well, and if their coming would make any
+inconvenience. Then the telegram to Bannan, and the arrival, to find him
+awaiting them with the best horse the stable afforded; and, finally,
+their stealthy entrance at the back door. All had been triumphantly
+successful, and as Rita told her story, she laughed and clapped her
+hands with the glee of a child, while every face glowed responsive.
+
+[Illustration: "'I PROPOSE . . . THE HEALTH OF THE BEST MAN . . . THAT
+LIVES UPON THIS EARTH TO-DAY; . . . THE HEALTH OF MY UNCLE JOHN!'"]
+
+"And now," said Rita Del Monte, springing to her feet, and lifting high
+her glass, "I wish to propose a toast--the only fitting toast for this
+night. I propose, dear friends, and dear strangers whom I hope to
+have for friends, the health of the best man--ah, Jack, you have not had
+time yet, nor you others; but courage, time is before you!--of the best
+man, I say, that lives upon this earth to-day; the dearest, the
+kindest--oh, all please drink to the health of my Uncle John!"
+
+One and all were upon their feet; all bending forward, glass in hand,
+eager and joyous, their eyes shining with love and admiration; and from
+one and all came the same glad cry, "Uncle John!"
+
+"Because if one hasn't the luck to be really his nephew," said Gerald,
+"the least one can do is to make a bluff at it."
+
+And here, at this happy moment, let us leave our friends. Good-by,
+Margaret--dear Margaret! Good-by, Peggy and Rita, Hugh and Grace, Gerald
+and Phil,--we may see you again, boys,--Jean and Jack! Good-by, and good
+luck to you! Last of all, good-by to you, John Montfort. If you are not
+the best man in the world, you are at least a good one! Wise and strong,
+courteous and kindly, brave and true, long may you live, as now you sit,
+in your own beautiful home, surrounded by those you love best in the
+world. Love, kindness, and truth; having these, what more do you lack?
+Good-by, John Montfort.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
+
+Page 45, "be" changed to "am" (I am to use)
+
+Page 233, "delared" changed to "declared" (which Mr. Montfort declared)
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Fernley House, by Laura E. Richards
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