MARJORIE'S NEW FRIEND

BY

CAROLYN WELLS

Author of the "Patty" Books

[Illustration: "'HERE'S THE BOOK', SAID MISS HART.... 'HOW MANY LEAVESHAS IT!'"]

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I. A BOTHERSOME BAG

 II. A WELCOME CHRISTMAS GIFT

 III. MERRY CHRISTMAS!

 IV. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

 V. A TEARFUL TIME

 VI. THE GOING OF GLADYS

 VII. THE COMING OF DELIGHT

 VIII. A VISIT TO CINDERELLA

 IX. A STRAW-RIDE

 X. MAKING VALENTINES

 XI. MARJORIE CAPTIVE

 XII. MISS HART HELPS

 XIII. GOLDFISH AND KITTENS

 XIV. A PLEASANT SCHOOL

 XV. A SEA TRIP

 XVI. A VALENTINE PARTY

 XVII. A JINKS AUCTION

 XVIII. HONEST CONFESSION

 XIX. A VISIT FROM GLADYS

 XX. CHESSY CATS

CHAPTER I

A BOTHERSOME BAG

"Mother, are you there?"

"Yes, Marjorie; what is it, dear?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to know. Is Kitty there?"

"No; I'm alone, except for Baby Rosy. Are you bothered?"

"Yes, awfully. Please tell me the minute Kitty comes. I want to see her. "

"Yes, dearie. I wish I could help you. "

"Oh, I _wish_ you could! You'd be just the one!"

This somewhat unintelligible conversation is explained by the fact thatwhile Mrs. Maynard sat by a table in the large, well-lighted living-room, and Rosy Posy was playing near her on the floor, Marjorie was concealedbehind a large folding screen in a distant corner. 

The four Japanese panels of the screen were adjusted so that theyenclosed the corner as a tiny room, and in it sat Marjorie, looking verymuch troubled, and staring blankly at a rather hopeless-looking mass ofbrocaded silk and light-green satin, on which she had been sewing. Themore she looked at it, and the more she endeavored to pull it into shape, the more perplexed she became. 

"I never saw such a thing!" she murmured, to herself. "You turn itstraight, and then it's wrong side out, --and then you turn it back, andstill it's wrong side out! I wish I could ask Mother about it!"

The exasperating silk affair was a fancy work-bag which Marjorie wastrying to make for her mother's Christmas present. And that her mothershould not know of the gift, which was to be a surprise, of course, Marjorie worked on it while sitting behind the screen. It was a mostuseful arrangement, for often Kitty, and, sometimes, even Kingdon, tookrefuge behind its concealing panels, when making or wrapping up gifts foreach other that must not be seen until Christmas Day. 

Indeed, at this hour, between dusk and dinner time, the screened offcorner was rarely unoccupied. 

It was a carefully-kept rule that no one was to intrude if any one elsewas in there, unless, of course, by invitation of the one in possession. Marjorie did not like to sew, and was not very adept at it, but she hadtried very hard to make this bag neatly, that it might be presentableenough for her mother to carry when she went anywhere and carried herwork. 

So Midget had bought a lovely pattern of brocaded silk for the outside, and a dainty pale green satin for the lining. She had seamed up the twomaterials separately, and then had joined them at the top, thinking thatwhen she turned them, the bag would be neatly lined, and ready for theintroduction of a pretty ribbon that should gather it at the top. But, instead, when she sewed her two bags together, they did not turn intoeach other right at all. She had done her sewing with both bags wrongside out, thinking they would turn in such a way as to conceal all theseams. But instead of that, not only were all the seams on the outside, but only the wrong sides of the pretty materials showed, and turn andtwist it as she would, Marjorie could not make it come right. 

Her mother could have shown her where the trouble lay, but Marjoriecouldn't consult her as to her own surprise, so she sat and stared at theexasperating bag until Kitty came. 

"Come in here, Kit, " called Midget, and Kitty carefully squeezed herselfinside the screen. 

"What's the matter, Mopsy? Oh, is it Mother's--"

"Sh!" said Marjorie warningly, for Kitty was apt to speak outthoughtlessly, and Mrs. Maynard was easily within hearing. 

"I can't make it turn right, " she whispered; "see if you can. "

Kitty obligingly took the bag, but the more she turned and twisted it, the more obstinately it refused to get right side out. 

"You've sewed it wrong, " she whispered back. 

"I know that, --but what's the way to sew it right. I can't see where Imade the mistake. "

"No, nor I. You'd think it would turn, wouldn't you?"

Kitty kept turning the bag, now brocaded side out, now lining side out, but always the seams were outside, and the right side of the materialsinvisible. 

"I never saw anything so queer, " said Kitty; "it's bewitched! Maybe Kingcould help us. "

Kingdon had just come in, so they called him to the consultation. 

"It is queer, " he said, after the situation was noiselessly explained tohim. "It's just like my skatebag, that Mother made, only the seams ofthat don't show. "

"Go get it, King, " said Marjorie hopefully. "Maybe I can get this rightthen. Don't let Mother see it. "

So King went for his skatebag, and with it stuffed inside his jacket, returned to his perplexed sisters. 

"No; I don't see how she did it, " declared Marjorie, at last, after aclose inspection of the neatly-made bag, with all its seams properly outof sight, and its material and lining both showing their right sides. "I'll have to give it to her this way"

"You can't!" said Kitty, looking at the absurd thing. 

"But what can I do, Kit? It's only a week till Christmas now, and I can'tbegin anything else for Mother. I've lots of things to finish yet. "

"Here's Father, " said Kitty, as she heard his voice outside; "perhaps hecan fix it. "

"Men don't know about fancy work, " said Marjorie, but even as she spokehope rose in her heart, for Mr. Maynard had often proved knowing inmatters supposed to be outside his ken. 

"Oh, Father, come in here, please; in behind the screen. You go out, Kingand Kitty, so there'll be room. "

Those invited to leave did so, and Mr. Maynard came in and smiled at hiseldest daughter's despairing face. 

"What's the trouble, Mopsy midget? Oh, millinery? You don't expect me tohemstitch, do you? What's that you're making, a young sofa-cushion?"

"Don't speak so loud, Father. It's a Christmas present I'm making forMother, and it won't go right. If you can't help me, I don't know whatI'll do. I've tried every way, but it's always wrong side out!"

"What a hateful disposition it must have! But what _is_ it?"

Marjorie put her lips to her father's ear, and whispered; "It's a bag; Imean it's meant to be one, for Mother to carry to sewing society. I cansew it well enough, but I can't make it get right side out!"

"Now, Mopsy, dear, you know I'd do anything in the world to help you thatI possibly can; but I'm afraid this is a huckleberry above mypersimmons!"

"But, Father, here's King's skatebag. Mother made it, and can't you seeby that how it's to go?"

"H'm, --let me see. I suppose if I must pull you out of this slough ofdespond, I must. Now all these seams are turned in, and all yours areoutside. "

"Yes; and how can we get them inside? There's no place to turn them to. "

Mr. Maynard examined both bags minutely. 

"Aha!" he said at last; "do you know how they put the milk in thecoconut, Marjorie?"

"No, sir. "

"Well, neither do I. But I see a way to get these seams inside and letyour pretty silks put their best face foremost. Have you a pair ofscissors?"

"Yes, here they are. "

Mr. Maynard deftly ripped a few stitches, leaving an opening of a coupleof inches in one of the seams of the lining. Through this opening hecarefully pulled the whole of both materials, thus reversing the wholething. When it had all come through, he pulled and patted it smooth, and, behold! the bag was all as it should be, and there remained only thetiny opening he had ripped in the lining to be sewed up again. 

"That you must cat-stitch, or whatever you call it, " he said, "as neatlyas you can. And it will never show, on a galloping horse on a darknight. "

"Blindstitch, you mean, " said Marjorie; "yes, I can do that. Oh, Father, how clever you are! How did you know how to do it?"

"Well, to be honest, I saw a similar place in the lining of the skatebag. So I concluded that was the most approved way to make bags. Can youfinish it now?"

"Oh, yes; I've only to stitch a sort of casing and run a ribbon in forthe strings. Thank you lots, Father dear. You always help me out. But Iwas afraid this was out of your line. "

"It isn't exactly in my day's work, as a rule; but I'm always glad toassist a fair lady in distress. Any other orders, mademoiselle?"

"Not to-night, brave sir. But you might call in, any time you'repassing. "

"Suppose I should pop in when you're engaged on a token of regard andesteem for my noble self?"

"No danger! Your Christmas present is all done and put away. I hadMother's help on that. "

"Well, then it's sure to be satisfactory. Then I will bid you adieu, trusting to meet you again at dinner. "

"All right, " said Marjorie, who had neatly; blindstitched the littleripped place, and was now making the casing for the ribbons. 

By dinner time the bag was nearly done, and she went to the table with alight heart, knowing that she could finish her mother's present thatevening. 

"Who is the dinner for this year?" asked Mr. Maynard, as the family satround their own dinner table. 

"Oh, the Simpsons, " said Marjorie, in a tone of decision. "You know Mr. Simpson is still in the hospital, and they're awfully poor. "

It was the Maynards' habit to send, every Christmas, a generous dinner tosome poor family in the town, and this year the children had decided onthe Simpsons. In addition to the dinner, they always made up a box oftoys, clothing, and gifts of all sorts. These were not always entirelynew, but were none the less welcome for that. 

"A large family, isn't it?" said Mr. Maynard. 

"Loads of 'em, " said King. "All ages and assorted sizes. "

"Well, I'll give shoes and mittens all round, for my share. Mother, youmust look out for the dinner and any necessities that they need. Children, you can make toys and candies for them! can't you?"

"Yes, indeed, " said Marjorie; "we've lovely things planned. We're goingto paste pictures on wood, and King is going to saw them up intopicture-puzzles. And we're going to make scrap books, and dress dolls, and heaps of things. "

"And when are you going to take these things to them?"

"I think we'd better take them the day before Christmas, " said Mrs. Maynard. "Then Mrs. Simpson can prepare her turkey and such things overnight if she wants to. I'm sure she'd like it better than to have all thethings come upon her suddenly on Christmas morning. "

"Yes, that's true, " said Mr. Maynard. "And then we must find something toamuse ourselves all day Christmas. "

"I rather guess we can!" said King. "Well have our own tree Christmasmorning, and Grandma and Uncle Steve are coming, and if there's snow, we'll have a sleigh-ride, and if there's ice, we'll have skating, --oh, Ijust love Christmas!"

"So do I, " said Marjorie. "And we'll have greens all over the house, andwreaths tied with red ribbon, --"

"And mince pie and ice cream, both!" interrupted Kitty; "oh, won't it begorgeous!"

"And then no school for a whole week!" said Marjorie, rapturously. "Morethan a week, for Christmas is on Thursday, so New Year's Day's onThursday, too, and we have vacation on that Friday, too. "

"But Christmas and New Year's Day don't come on the same day of the weekthis year, Marjorie, " said her father. 

"They don't! Why, Father, they _always_ do! It isn't leap year, is it?"

"Ho, Mops, leap year doesn't matter, " cried King. "Of course, they alwayscome on the same day of the week. What do you mean, Father?"

"I mean just what I say; that Christmas Day and New Year's Day do notfall on the same day of the week this year. "

"Why, Daddy, you're crazy!" said Marjorie, "Isn't Christmas coming onThursday?"

"Yes, my child. "

"Well, isn't New Year's Day the following Thursday?"

"Yes, but that's _next_ year. New Year's Day of _this_ year was nearlytwelve months ago and was on Wednesday. "

"Oh, Father, what a sell! of course I meant this _winter_. "

"Well, you didn't say so. You said this _year_. "

"It's a good joke, " said King, thinking it over. "I'll fool the boys withit, at school. "

The Maynards were a busy crowd during the short week that intervenedbefore Christmas. 

From Mr. Maynard, who was superintending plans for his own family and formany beneficiaries, down to the cook, who was making whole shelves fullof marvelous dainties, everybody was hurrying and skurrying from morningtill night. 

The children had completed their gifts for their parents and for eachother, and most of them were already tied in dainty tissue papers andholly ribbons awaiting the festal day. 

Now they were making gifts for the poor family of Simpsons, and theyseemed to enjoy it quite as much as when making the more costly presentsfor each other. 

Marjorie came home from school at one o'clock, and as Mrs. Maynard hadsaid she needn't practise her music any more until after the holidays, she had all her afternoons and the early part of the evenings to work atthe Christmas things. 

She was especially clever with scissors and paste, and made lovelyscrap-books by cutting large double leaves of heavy brown paper. On theseshe pasted post-cards or other colored pictures, also little verses orstories cut from the papers. Eight of these sheets were tied together bya bright ribbon at the back, and made a scrap-book acceptable to anychild. Then, Marjorie loved to dress paper dolls. She bought a dozen ofthe pretty ones that have movable arms and feet, and dressed them mostpicturesquely in crinkled paper and lace paper. She made little hats, cloaks and muffs for them, and the dainty array was a fine addition tothe Simpson's box. 

Kitty, too, made worsted balls for the Simpson babies, and little lacestockings, worked around with worsted, which were to be filled withcandies. 

With Mrs. Maynard's help, they dressed a doll for each Simpson girl, andKing sawed out a picture puzzle for each Simpson boy. 

Then, a few days before Christmas they all went to work and made candies. They loved to do this, and Mrs. Maynard thought home-made confectionerymore wholesome than the bought kind. So they spent one afternoon, pickingout nuts and seeding raisins, and making all possible beforehandpreparations, and the next day they made the candy. As they wanted enoughfor their own family as well as the Simpsons, the quantity, whenfinished, was rather appalling. 

Pan after pan of cream chocolates, coconut balls, caramels, cream dates, cream nuts, and chocolate-dipped dainties of many sorts filled theshelves in the cold pantry. 

And Marjorie also made some old-fashioned molasses candy with peanuts init, because it was a favorite with Uncle Steve. 

The day before Christmas the children were all allowed to stay home fromschool, for in the morning they were to pack the Christmas box for theSimpsons and, in the afternoon, take it to them. 

CHAPTER II

A WELCOME CHRISTMAS GIFT

The day before Christmas was a busy one in the Maynard household. 

The delightful breakfast that Ellen sent to the table could scarcely beeaten, so busily talking were all the members of the family. 

"Come home early, won't you, Father?" said Marjorie, as Mr. Maynard roseto go away to his business. "And don't forget to bring me that bigholly-box I told you about. "

"As I've only thirty-seven other things to remember, I won't forget that, chickadee. Any last orders, Helen?"

"No; only those I've already told you. Come home as early as you can, forthere's lots to be done, and you know Steve and Grandma will arrive atsix. "

Away went Mr. Maynard, and then the children scattered to attend to theirvarious duties. 

Both James the gardener and Thomas the coachman were handy men of allwork, and, superintended by Mrs. Maynard, they packed the moresubstantial portions of the Simpson's Christmas donations. 

It took several large baskets to hold the dinner, for there was a big, fat turkey, a huge roast of beef, and also sausages and vegetables ofmany sorts. 

Then other baskets held bread and pie and cake, and cranberry jelly andcelery, and all the good things that go to make up a Christmassy sort ofa feast. Another basket held nuts and raisins and oranges and figs, andin this was a big box of the candies the children had made. The basketswere all decked with evergreen and holly, and made an imposing lookingrow. 

Meantime King and Midget and Kitty were packing into boxes the toys andpretty trifles that they had made or bought. They added many books andgames of their own, which, though not quite new, were as good as new. 

A barrel was packed full of clothing, mostly outgrown by the Maynardchildren, but containing, also, new warm caps, wraps and underwear forthe little Simpsons. 

Well, all the things together made a fair wagon-load, and when Mr. Maynard returned home about two o'clock that afternoon, he saw thewell-filled and evergreen trimmed wagon on the drive, only waiting forhis coming to have the horse put to its shafts. 

"Hello, Maynard maids and men!" he cried, as he came in, laden withbundles, and found the children bustling about, getting ready to go. 

"Oh, Father, " exclaimed Kitty, "you do look so Santa Claus-y! What's inall those packages?"

"Mostly surprises for you to-morrow, Miss Curiosity; so you can scarcelyexpect to see in them now. "

"I do love a bundly Christmas, " said Marjorie. "I think half the fun istying things up with holly ribbons, and sticking sprigs of holly in theknots. "

"Well, are we all aboard now for the Simpsons?" asked her father, as hedeposited his burdens in safe places. 

"Yes, we'll get our hats, and start at once; come on, Kitty, " andMarjorie danced away, drawing her slower sister along with her. 

Nurse Nannie soon had little Rosamond ready, and the tot looked like abig snowball in her fleecy white coat and hood, and white leggings. 

"Me go to Simpson's, " she cried, in great excitement, and then Mrs. Maynard appeared, and they all crowded into the roomy station-wagon thatcould be made, at a pinch, to hold them all. James drove them, and Thomasfollowed with the wagon-load of gifts. 

The visit was a total surprise to the Simpson family, and when theMaynards knocked vigorously at the shaky old door, half a dozen littlefaces looked wonderingly from the windows. 

"What is it?" said Mrs. Simpson, coming to the door, with a baby in herarms, and other small children clinging to her dress. 

"Merry Christmas!" cried Midget and King, who were ahead of the others. But the cry of "Merry Christmas" was repeated by all the Maynards, untilan answering smile appeared on the faces of the Simpson family and mostof them spoke up with a "Merry Christmas to you, too. "

"We've brought you some Christmas cheer, " said Mr. Maynard, as the wholesix of them went in, thereby greatly crowding the small room where theywere received. "Mr. Simpson is not well, yet, I understand. "

"No, sir, " said Mrs. Simpson. "They do say he'll be in the hospital for amonth yet, and it's all I can do to keep the youngsters alive, let alonegettin' Christmas fixin's for 'em. "

"That's what we thought, " said Mr. Maynard, pleasantly; "and so my wifeand children are bringing you some goodies to make a real Christmas feastfor your little ones. "

"Lord bless you, sir, " said Mrs. Simpson, as the tears came to her eyes. "I didn't know how much I was missin' all the Christmas feelin', till Isee you all come along, with your 'Merry Christmas, ' and your evergreentrimmin's. "

"Yes, " said Mrs. Maynard, gently, "at this season, we should all have the'Christmas feeling, ' and though I'm sorry your husband can't be with you, I hope you and the children will have a happy day. "

"What you got for us?" whispered a little Simpson, who was patting Mrs. Maynard's muff. 

"Well, we'll soon show you. " said Mr. Maynard, overhearing the child. 

Then he opened the door and bade his two men bring in the things. 

So James and Thomas brought them in, box after box and basket afterbasket, until the Simpsons were well-nigh speechless at the sight. 

"How kin we pay for it, Ma?" said one of the boys, who was getting oldenough to know what lack of funds meant. 

"You're not to pay for it, my boy, " said Mr. Maynard, "except by having ajolly, happy day to-morrow, and enjoying all the good things you find inthese baskets. " Then the Maynard children unwrapped some of the prettythings they had made, and gave them to the little Simpsons. 

One little girl of about six received a doll with a cry of rapture, andheld it close to her, as if she had never had a doll before. Thensuddenly she said, "No, I'll give it to sister, she never had a doll. Idid have one once, but a bad boy stole it. "

"You're an unselfish little dear, " cried Marjorie; "and here's anotherdoll for you. There's one for each of you girls. "

As there were four girls, this caused four outbursts of joy, and whenMarjorie and Kitty saw the way the little girls loved the dollies, theyfelt more than repaid for the trouble it had been to dress them. Theboys, too, were delighted with their gifts. Mr. Maynard had brought realboys' toys for them, such as small tool chests, and mechanicalcontrivances, not to mention trumpets and drums. And, indeed, thelast-named ones needed no mention, for they were at once put to use andspoke for themselves. 

"Land sakes, children! stop that hullabaloo-lam!" exclaimed Mrs. Simpson. "How can I thank these kind people if you keep up that noise! Indeed, Ican't thank you, anyway, " she added, as the drums were quiet for amoment. "It's so kind of you, --and so unexpected. We had almost nothingfor, --for to-morrow's dinner, and I didn't know which way to turn. "

Overcome by her emotion, Mrs. Simpson buried her face in her apron, butas Mrs. Maynard touched her shoulder and spoke to her gently, she lookedup, smiling through her tears. 

"I can't rightly thank you, ma'am, " she went on, "but the Lord will blessyou for your goodness. I'm to see Mr. Simpson for a few momentsto-morrow, and when I tell him what you've done for us he'll have thehappiest Christmas of us all, though his sufferings is awful. But he washeartsick because of our poor Christmas here at home, and the news willcure him of that, anyway. "

"I put in some jelly and grapes especially for him, " said Mrs. Maynard, smiling, though there were tears in her own eyes. "So you take them tohim, and give him Christmas greetings from us. And now we must go, andyou can begin at once to make ready your feast. "

"Oh, yes, ma'am. And may all Christmas blessing's light on you andyours. "

"Merry Christmas!" cried all the Maynards as they trooped out, and thegood wish was echoed by the happy Simpsons. 

"My!" said King, "it makes a fellow feel sober to see people as poor asthat!"

"It does, my boy, " said his father; "and it's a pleasure to help thosewho are truly worthy and deserving. Simpson is an honest, hard-workingman, and I think we must keep an eye on the family until he's aboutagain. And now, my hearties, we've done all we can for them for thepresent; so let's turn our attention to the celebration of the Maynard'sChristmastide. Who wants to go to the station with me to meet Grandma andUncle Steve?"

"I!" declared the four children, as with one voice. 

"Yes, but you can't all go; and, too, there must be some of the nicestones at home to greet the travellers as they enter. I think I'll decidethe question myself. I'll take Kitty and King with me, and I'll leave myeldest and youngest daughters at home with Motherdy to receive the guestswhen they come. "

Mr. Maynard's word was always law, and though Marjorie wanted to go, shethought, too, it would be fun to be at home and receive them when theycome. 

So they all separated as agreed, and Mrs. Maynard said they must makehaste to get dressed for the company. 

Marjorie wore a light green cashmere, with a white embroidered _guimpe_, which was one of her favorite frocks. Her hair was tied with big whitebows, and a sprig of holly was tucked in at one side. 

She flew down to the living-room, to find baby Rosamond and her motheralready there. Rosy Posy was a Christmas baby indeed, all in white, withholly ribbons tying up her curls, and a holly sprig tied in the bow. Thewhole house was decorated with ropes and loops of evergreen, and starsand wreaths, with big red bows on them, were in the windows and over thedoorways. 

The delicious fragrance of the evergreens pervaded the house, and thewood fires burned cheerily. Mrs. Maynard, in her pretty rose-coloredhouse gown, looked about with the satisfied feeling that everything wasin readiness, and nothing had been forgotten. 

At last a commotion was heard at the door, and Marjorie flew to open it. They all seemed to come in at once, and after an embrace from Grandma, Marjorie felt herself lifted up in Uncle Steve's strong arms. 

"That's the last time, Midget, " he said as he set her down again. "There's too much of you for me to toss about as I used to. My! what abig girl you are!"

"Toss me, Uncle Teve, " said Rosy Posy, and she was immediately swung toUncle Steve's shoulder. 

"You're only a bit of thistle-down. I could toss you up in the sky, andyou could sit on the edge of a star. How would you like that?"

"I'd ravver stay here, " said Rosy Posy, nestling contentedly on herperch. "'Sides, I _must_ be here for Kismus to-morrow. "

"Oh, _is_ Christmas to-morrow? How could I have forgotten that?"

"You didn't forget it, Uncle Steve, " said Kitty, "for I see bundlessticking out of every one of your pockets!"

"Bless my soul! How odd! Santa Claus must have tucked them in, as I camethrough his street. Well, I'll put them away until to-morrow. They're ofno use to-night. "

"Put them in here, Steve, " said Mrs. Maynard, opening a cupboard door, for there was a possibility that the good-natured gentleman might bepersuaded to unwrap them at once. 

Meantime Grandma was reviewing the small Maynards. Marjorie she had seenin the summer, but the others had been absent a longer time. 

"You've all grown, " she said, "but I do believe I like you just as wellbigger. "

"Good for you, Grandma!" cried King. "'Most everybody says, 'Why, howyou've grown!' as if we had done something wrong. "

"No, the more there is of my grandchildren, the more I have to love, sogo right on growing. Marjorie, Molly and Stella sent love to you, andthey also sent some little gifts which I will give you to-morrow. "

The Maynards did not follow the custom of having their tree on Christmaseve. 

Mrs. Maynard thought it unwise, because the children often became soexcited over their gifts and their frolic that it was difficult for themto settle down to sleep until "all hours. "

So it was the rule to go to bed rather early on Christmas eve, and have along happy day to follow. 

But the dinner, on the night before Christmas, always assumed a little ofthe coming festivities. On this occasion, the table was decked with hollyand flowers, and the dishes were a little more elaborate and festive thanusual. 

"Ice cream, oh, goody!" exclaimed Kitty, as dessert appeared. Kitty'sfondness for ice cream was a family joke, but all welcomed the littleSanta Clauses made of orange ice, and carrying trees of pistache cream. After dinner a game of romps was allowed. 

Mrs. Maynard, Grandma and Baby Rosy did not join in this, but went off bythemselves, leaving the living-room to the more enthusiastic rompers. 

"Fox and Geese" was a favorite game, and though there were scarcelyenough of them to play it properly, yet that made it all the more fun, and Uncle Steve and Mr. Maynard seemed to be little, if any, older thanKingdon, as they scrambled about in the frolic. Then Kitty begged forjust one round of Puss in the Corner. 

Kingdon and Midget thought this rather a baby game, but they willinglydeferred to Kitty's choice, and the grown up men were such foolish, funny pussies in their corners that everybody fell a-laughing, and thegame broke up because they were too exhausted to play any more. 

"Now to quiet down pleasantly, and then ho, for bed, " said Mr. Maynard. So when they had recovered their breath, Mrs. Maynard and Grandmareturned, Rosy Posy having already gone to her little crib. Mrs. Maynardsat at the piano, and they all gathered round and sang Christmas carols. 

The children had clear, true voices, and the grown-ups sang really well, so it was sweet Christmas music that they made. They sang many of the oldEnglish carols, for the children had sung them every Christmas eve sincethey were old enough, and they knew them well. 

Grandma loved to hear the music, and after it was over the three childrenwere kindly but firmly requested to retire. 

"We hate awfully to have you go, dear friends, " said Mr. Maynard. "Weshall be desolate, indeed, without your merry faces, but the time isripe. It's nine o'clock, and Christmas morning comes apace. So flee, skip, skiddoo, vamoose, and exit! Hang up your stockings, and _perhaps_Santa Claus may observe them. But hasten, for I daresay he's already onhis rounds. "

Laughing at their father's nonsense, the children rather reluctantlybacked out of the room and dawdled upstairs. 

But there was still the fun of hanging up their stockings, and then, after that nothing more but to hurry to get to sleep that Christmas mightcome sooner. 

Rosy Posy's tiny socks were already in place, and soon three more pairsof long, lank stockings were dangling emptily, and then, in a jiffy theMaynard children were all asleep, and Christmas Day was silently drawingnearer and nearer. 

CHAPTER III

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

The sun waited just about as long as he could stand it on Christmasmorning, and then he poked his yellow nose above the horizon to see whatwas going on. And everything that he saw was so merry and gay and full ofChristmas spirit, that he pushed the rest of himself up, and beamedaround in a glad smile of welcome and greeting. As he gave a flashingglance in at the Maynard girls' window, his rays struck Marjorie full inthe face and wakened her at once. For a moment she blinked and winked andwondered what day it was. Then she remembered, and with one bound she wasout of bed, and across the room to where Kitty was soundly sleeping. 

It was a rule for the Maynard children never to waken one another, forMrs. Maynard believed that people, both young and old, need all the sleepthey can take, but Christmas morning was, of course, an exception, andpatting Kitty rather vigorously on her shoulder, Marjorie called out, "Merry Christmas!"

"Who?" said Kitty, drowsily, rubbing her eyes, as she sat up. "Oh, Mops!you caught me! Merry Christmas, yourself! Let's go and catch King!"

Throwing on their dressing-gowns, and tucking their feet into bedroomslippers, they ran to their brother's room, but King, also huddled into abath-robe, met them in the hall, and the gay greetings and laughter soonwoke any one else in the house who might have been asleep. Nurse Nannie, with Rosy Posy, joined the group, and each clasping a pair of bulging, knobby stockings, flew to the nursery, where this Christmas morningceremonial always took place. 

A bright fire was blazing in the big fireplace, and in front of it, on awhite fur rug, the four sat down, while Nannie hovered around, ready toinspect and admire, as she knew she would be called upon to do. 

The big, light nursery was a delightful room, and with the morningsunshine, the shining yellow floor, white-painted woodwork, and brightfire-brasses, it seemed full of Christmas glow and warmth. 

Grouped on the rug, the children immediately proceeded to the business ofemptying their stockings, and as the various things were pulled out andexhibited, everybody oh'd and ah'd at everybody else, and they all beganto nibble at candies, and at last Christmas had really begun. 

The gifts in their stockings were always of a pretty, but triflingnature, as their more worth while presents were received later, from thetree. 

But there were always lots of little toys and trinkets, and alwaysoranges and nuts and candies, and always tin whistles and rattles, andother noise-producing contraptions, so that soon the four grew gay andnoisy and Nurse was obliged to pick up Baby Rosamond, lest she should beinadvertently upset. 

But perched in Nurse's lap, the little one waved a Christmas flag, andblew on a tiny tin trumpet, and quite made her share of the generalhullaballoo. Marjorie had a new pencil-case, and some prettyhandkerchiefs, and an inkstand, and a silver bangle, and a little diary, and some lovely hair-ribbons. 

And King was rejoicing over a fountain pen, a pocket-knife, a silkmuffler, a rubber-stamp outfit, and some new gloves. 

Kitty had a little pocket-book, a silver shoe-buttoner, a blank-book, apretty silk pincushion, and a bangle like Marjorie's. 

Baby Rosy had dolls and toys, and what with the candies and othergoodies, there was a distracting array of Christmas all about. 

"And to think the day has scarcely begun!" said Marjorie, with a sigh ofrapture, as she ate a cream date, at the same time twisting her wrist tocatch the glitter of her new bangle. 

"Yes, but it's 'most half-past eight, " said King, "and breakfast's atnine. I'm going to skittle!"

He gathered up his new belongings, and with a sort of combinationwar-whoop and "Merry Christmas, " he scampered away to his room. The twogirls followed his example, and soon were busily dressing themselves andhelping each other. 

Marjorie put on a scarlet cashmere, which, with the big red bows on herhair, made her look very Christmassy, the effect being added to by hollysprigs pinned on here and there. Kitty's frock was a sort of electricblue, that suited her fair hair, and she, too, was holly-decked. 

Then, after a hasty inspection of each other, to see that they were allright, the girls skipped downstairs. 

So expeditious had they been that not a Maynard was ahead of them, excepttheir father, who had just come down. 

"Merry Christmas, girlies!" he cried, and just then everybody came down, almost all at once, and the greetings flew about, as thick as asnowstorm. Grandma Sherwood, in her soft grey breakfast-gown, beamedhappily at her brood of grandchildren, and soon they all gathered roundthe table. 

"I wish Christmas was seventy-two hours long, said Marjorie, whosecandies had not taken away her appetite for the specially fine breakfastthat was being served in honor of the day. 

"But you'd fall asleep after twelve hours of it, " said Uncle Steve; "sowhat good would it do you?"

"I wouldn't!" declared King. "I could spend twelve hours having ourregular Christmas in the house; and then twelve more outdoors, skating orsomething; and then twelve more--"

"Eating, " suggested his father, glancing at King's plate. "Well, since wecan't have seventy-two hours of it, we must cram all the fun we can intotwelve. Who's for a run out of doors before we have our Christmas tree?"The three older children agreed to this, and with Mr. Maynard and UncleSteve they went out for a brisk walk. 

"Wish we could snowball, " said King, as they returned, and stood for afew moments on the verandah. "It's cold enough, but there no sign ofsnow. "

"Pooh, you don't have to have snow to play a game of snowballs!" said hisfather. "Why didn't you say what you wanted sooner? You are such adiffident boy! Wait a minute. "

Mr. Maynard disappeared into the house, and returned with a large paperbag filled with something, they did not know what. 

"Come out on the lawn, " he said, and soon they were all out on the brown, dry, winter grass. 

"Catch!" and then Mr. Maynard threw to one and another, some swift, whiteballs. They were really white pop-corn balls, but at first they lookedlike snowballs. 

The children caught on at once, and soon two or three dozen balls werewhizzing from each to each, and they had the jolliest game! The ballswere too light to hurt if they hit them, yet solid enough to throw well. 

To be sure, they broke to bits after many tosses, but the game lasted ahalf hour, and then Mr. Maynard declared that it was tree time. 

"Sounds like tea-time, " said Kitty, as they trooped in. 

"Sounds a whole lot better than that!" said King. 

The tree was in the living-room. It had been brought in, and trimmedafter the children went to bed the night before. So they had had noglimpse of it, and were now more than eager to see its glories. 

"Are we all here?" asked Mr. Maynard, as he looked over the group in thehall, awaiting the opening of the doors. 

"All but Uncle Steve, " said Marjorie. "Why doesn't he come?"

"We won't wait for him, " said Mr. Maynard, and he gave a loud knock onthe double doors of the living-room. 

Like magic the doors flew open, and waiting to receive them was SantaClaus himself!

His jolly, smiling face was very red-cheeked, and his white hair andbeard streamed down over his red coat, which was of that beltedround-about shape that seems to be Santa Claus's. Favorite fashion. 

His red coat and trousers were trimmed with white fur and gold braid, andhis high boots were covered with splashes of white that _looked_ likesnow. He wore a fur trimmed red cap, and big gold-rimmed spectacles. Thelatter, with the very red cheeks and long white beard, so changed UncleSteve's appearance that at first no one seemed to recognize him. 

But they knew in a moment, and Marjorie grasped one hand and Kitty theother, as they cried out:

"Hello, Uncle Santa Claus! how did you get so snowy?"

"I came down from the arctic regions, my dears, " said the smiling saint, "and up there we have perpetual snow. "

"It seems to be perpetual on your boots, " observed King; "I'm sure itwon't melt off at all!"

"Yes, it's first-class snow, " agreed Santa Claus, looking at his boots, which were really splashed with white-wash. "And here's little Miss RosyPosy, " he continued, picking up the baby, who, at first, was a little shyof the strange-looking figure. "This is the very little girl I've come tosee, and she must pick something off the tree!"

Rosy Posy recognized Uncle Steve's voice now, and contentedly nestled inhis arms as he carried her to the tree. And such a tree as it was!

It reached to the ceiling, and its top boughs had been cut off to get itin the room at all. 

The blinds had been closed, and the shades drawn, in order that theilluminations of the tree might shine out brightly, and the gorgeoussight quite took the children's breath away. 

The big tree was in the end of the room, and not only did sparklingtinsel rope deck the green branches, but its strands also reached out tothe wall on either side, so that the tree seemed to be caught in animmense silver spider-web. Sparkling ornaments decked every limb andtwig, and shining among them were hundreds of tiny electric lights ofdifferent colors. 

Many beautiful presents hung on the tree, without wrappings of any sortto hide their pretty effect, and many more gifts, tied in be-ribbonedpapers, lay on the floor beneath. 

Altogether, it looked as if the whole end of the room were a sort ofglittering fairyland, and the children promptly agreed it was the mostbeautiful tree they had ever had. 

As Santa Claus held Baby Rosamond up to select for herself a gift fromthe tree, he held her so that she faced a big doll, almost as large asherself. 

"Oh, that will be my dollie!" she announced, holding out her little arms. 

The big doll was detached from its perch and handed to the child, who ranto nurse with her treasure, and would not be parted from it all day long. 

Then said Santa Claus: "Marjorie, next, may come and choose anything shewould like to use. "

He offered his arm, and, with exaggerated ceremony, led Midget to thetree. 

She was a little bewildered by the glitter, and the variety of giftshanging about, but she spied a lovely muff and boa of fluffy white furthat she felt sure must be meant for her. 

At any rate they were her choice, and Santa Claus gave them to her withhearty assurance that she had chosen well. 

Then he announced: "Next, of course, is little Kitty. Choose, my dear!Take something pretty!"

Kitty advanced slowly. She knew well what she wanted, but she didn't seeit on or under the tree. 

Santa Claus watched her roving eyes and then said: "If you don't likewhat you see, look around behind the tree!"

So Kitty peered around, and sure enough, almost hidden by the strands oftinsel, there stood a bookcase. 

"I'll choose that!" she cried, in glee, and Mr. Maynard and Santa Clauspulled it out into view. It was the adjustable kind, with glass fronts, and Kitty had long desired just such a one for her room. 

"Isn't it beautiful!" she exclaimed, sitting down on the floor to examineit, and to imagine how it would look filled with story books. 

"Now, Sir Kingdon, approach, " called out Santa Claus; "carefully scan thebranches o'er, and help yourself from its ample store!"

King came toward the tree, eying it carefully in search of something hewanted very much, yet scarcely dared hope for. 

But, half hidden by a paper fairy, he spied a gleam of gold, and pouncedupon the dream of his heart, a gold watch!

"This will do me!" he said, beaming with delight, at the fine time-piece, with its neat fob. It was a handsome affair for a boy of fourteen; butKing was careful of his belongings, and Mr. Maynard had decided he couldbe trusted with it. 

Then the elder people received gifts from each other and from thechildren, and then everybody began to open bundles, and "thank you's"flew around like snowflakes, and tissue paper and gay ribbons were kneedeep all over the floor. 

"I didn't know there were so many presents in the world!" said Marjorie, who sat blissfully on an ottoman, with her lap full of lovely things, andmore on the floor beside her. Grandma had brought her an unset pearl. This was not a surprise, for Grandma had given her a pearl everyChristmas of her life, and when the time came for her to wear them, theywere to be made into a necklace. 

Uncle Steve had brought her a bureau set of ivory, with her monogram onthe brushes, and the children gave her various trinkets. 

Then Stella and Molly had sent gifts to her, and Gladys and some of theother school girls had also sent Christmas remembrances, with the resultthat Midget was fairly bewildered at her possessions. The others too, hadquantities of things, and Uncle Steve declared that he really had spilledhis whole sack at this house, and he must rescue some of the things totake to other children. But he didn't really do this, and the Maynards, as was their custom, arranged their gifts on separate tables, and spentthe morning admiring and discussing them. 

At two o'clock they had the Christmas feast. 

Nurse Nannie played a gay march on the piano, and Mr. Maynard, offeringhis arm to Grandma, led the way to the dining-room. King, escorting RosyPosy, walked next, followed by Midget and Kitty. Last of all came Mrs. Maynard and Uncle Steve. 

The dining-table was almost as beautiful as the Christmas tree. Indeed, in the centre of it was a small tree, filled with tiny, but exquisitedecorations, and sparkling with electric lights. The windows had beendarkened, and the shining tree blazed brilliantly. 

The table was decorated with red ribbons and holly and red candles, andred candle shades and everybody had red favours and red paper bells. 

"I feel like a Robin Redbreast, " said Marjorie; "isn't it all beautiful!Did you do it, Mother?"

"Yes, with Sarah's help, " said Mrs. Maynard, for her faithful and cleverlittle waitress was of great assistance in such matters. 

"It's like eating in an enchanted palace, " said Kitty. "Everything is sobright and sparkly and gleaming; and, oh! I'm _so_ hungry!"

"Me, too!" chimed in the other young Maynards, and then they proceeded todo ample justice to the good things Ellen sent in in abundance. 

But at last even the young appetites were satisfied, and while the elderssipped their coffee in the library, the children were sent off to play bythemselves. 

The baby was turned over to Nurse Nannie, and the other three tumbledinto their wraps and ran out of doors to play off some of their exuberantenthusiasm. 

CHAPTER IV

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

"It's been a gay old week, hasn't it?" said Marjorie, on New Year's Eve. 

"You bet!" cried King, who sometimes lapsed from the most approveddiction. "Wish it was just beginning. We had fine skating till the snowcame, and ever since, it's been bang-up sleighing. Well, only four moredays, and then school, school, school!"

"Don't remind me of it!" said Marjorie with a groan. "I wish I was a Fijior whatever doesn't have to go to school at all!"

"Oh, pshaw, Midge; it isn't so bad after you get started. Only holidaysmake you so jolly that it's hard to sit down and be quiet. "

"It's always hard for me to sit down and be quiet, " said Midge. "Ifthey'd let me walk around, or sit on the tables or window-sills, Iwouldn't mind school so much. It's being cramped into those old desksthat I hate. "

Poor little Marjorie, so active and restless, it was hard for her toendure the confinement of the schoolroom. 

"Why don't you ask mother to let you go to boarding-school, Mops?" askedKitty, with an air of having suggested a brilliant solution of hersister's difficulties. 

Marjorie laughed. "No, thank you, Kitsie, " she said. "What good wouldthat do? In the school hours I s'pose I'd have to sit as still as I dohere, and out of school hours I'd die of homesickness. Imagine being awayoff alone, without all of you!"

Kitty couldn't imagine anything like that, so she gave it up. 

"Then I guess you'll have to go to school, same's you always have done. "

"I guess I will, " said Marjorie, sighing. "But there's a few more days'holiday yet, and I'm not going to think about it till I have to. Whatshall we do to-night? It's the last night of the old year, you know. "

"I wonder if they'd let us sit up and see it out, " said King. 

"We never have, " returned Marjorie; "I don't believe Mother'd say yes, though maybe Father would. "

"If he does, Mother'll have to, " said Kitty, with a knowledge born ofexperience. "Let's ask 'em. "

"It's almost bed-time now, " said King, glancing at the clock; "but I'mnot a bit sleepy. "

The others declared they were not, either, and they all went in search oftheir parents. They found them in the library, with Uncle Steve andGrandma, who were still visiting them. 

"Sit the old year out!" exclaimed Mr. Maynard, when he heard theirrequest. "Why, you're almost asleep now!"

"Oh, we're not a bit sleepy!" protested Marjorie. "Do, Daddy, dear, letus try it, --we never have, you know. "

"Why, I've no objections, if Mother hasn't. "

Mrs. Maynard looked as if she didn't think much of the plan, but UncleSteve broke in, saying:

"Oh, let them, of course! It can't do them any harm except to make themsleepy to-morrow, and they can nap all day if they like. "

"Yes, let them do it, " said Grandma, who was an indulgent old lady. "ButI'm glad I don't have to sit up with them. "

"I too, " agreed Mr. Maynard. "I used to think it was fun, but I've seenso many New Years come sneaking in, that it's become an old, old story. "

"That's just it, sir, " said King, seeing a point of vantage. "We haven't, you know, and we'd like to see just how they come in. "

"Well, " said his father, "where will you hold this performance? I can'thave you prowling all over the house, waking up honest people who areabed and asleep. "

"You must take the nursery, " said Mrs. Maynard. "I wouldn't let you staydownstairs alone, but you may stay in the nursery as late as you like. Idaresay by ten or half-past, you'll be glad to give it up, and go to yourbeds. "

"Not we, " said King. "Thank you, heaps, for letting us do it. We're goingto have a fine time. Come on, girls!"

"One minute, King; you're not to make any noise after ten-thirty. Grandmagoes to her room then, and the rest of us soon after. "

"All right, we won't. It isn't going to be a noisy party, anyhow. "

"Then I don't see how it can be a Maynard party, " said Uncle Steve, quizzically, but the children had run away. 

"Now, we'll just have the time of our lives!" said King, as the three ofthem reached the nursery. 

"Of course we will, " agreed Marjorie. "What shall we do?"

"Let's see, it's nine o'clock. We can play anything till half-past ten;after that we can only do quiet things. Let's play Blind Man's Buff. "

"All right, you be _it_. "

So King was blindfolded, and he soon caught Kitty, who soon caughtMidget, and then she caught King again. But it wasn't very much fun, andnobody quite knew why. 

"It makes me too tired, " said Kitty, throwing herself on the couch, andfanning her hot little face with her handkerchief. "Let's play a sit-downgame. "

"But we can play those after we have to be quiet, " objected King. "Getup, Kit, you'll fall asleep if you lie there. "

"No, I won't, " said Kitty, opening her eyes very wide, but cuddling tothe soft pillow. 

"Yes, you will, too! Come on. Let's play 'animals. ' That's noisy enough, and you can sit down too. "

"Animals" was a card game where they sat round a table, and as occasionrequired assumed the voices of certain animals. 

"All right, " said Kitty, jumping up; "I'll be the Laughing Hyena. "

"I'll be a Lion, " said King, and Marjorie decided to be a Rooster. 

Soon the game was in full swing, and as the roar of the lion, the crowingof the rooster, and the strange noise that represented Kitty's idea ofthe hyena's mirth, floated downstairs, the grown-ups smiled once more atthe irrepressible spirits of the young Maynards. But after they hadroared and crowed and laughed for what seemed like an interminable time, King looked at his Christmas watch and exclaimed:

"Goodness, girls! it's only half-past nine! I though it was abouteleven!"

"So did I, " said Marjorie, trying to hide a yawn. 

"Oh, I say, Mops, you're sleepy!"

"I am not, either! I just sort of--sort of choked. "

"Well, don't do it again. What shall we play now?"

"Let's sing, " said Kitty. 

So Marjorie banged away on the nursery piano, and they sang everythingthey could think of. 

"I can't play another note, " said Midget, at last. "My fingers areperfectly numb. Isn't it nearly twelve?"

"Isn't ten, " said King, closing his watch with a snap. "We've only ahalf-hour more before we've got to be quiet, so let's make the most ofit. "

"I'm hungry, " said Kitty. "Can't we get something to eat?"

"Good idea!" said King. "Let's forage for some things, and bring them uphere, but don't eat them until later. After half-past ten, you know. "

So they all slipped down to the pantry, and returned with a collection ofapples and cookies, which they carefully set aside for a later luncheon. 

"Only twenty minutes left of our noisy time, " said King, with asuspicious briskness in his tone. "Come on, girls, let's have a racket. "

"There's no racket to me!" declared Kitty, throwing herself on the couch;"I feel--quiet. "

"Quiet!" exclaimed her brother. "Kit Maynard, if you're sleepy, you cango to bed! You're too young to sit up with Midge and me, anyhow!"

This touched Kitty in a sensitive spot, as he knew it would. 

"I'm not!" she cried, indignantly; "I'm as old as you are, so there!"

King didn't contradict this, which would seem to prove them both a bitsleepy. 

"You are, Kitty!" said Marjorie, laughing; "you're older than either ofus! So you tell us what to do to keep awake!"

It was out! Marjorie had admitted that they were sleepy. 

King grinned a little sheepishly. "Pooh, " he said, "it'll pass over if wejust get interested in something. Let's read aloud to each other. "

"That always puts me to sleep, " said Kitty, with a fearful andundisguised yawn. 

"Kit! if you do that again, we'll put you out! Now, brace up, --or else goto bed!"

Kitty braced up. Indeed, Kitty had special powers in this direction, ifshe chose to exercise them. 

"Pooh, I can brace up better than either of you, " she said, confidently;"and here's how I'm going to do it. "

She went over to the big nursery washstand, and turning the cold waterfaucet, ran the bowl full, and then plunged her face and hands in. 

"Kit, you're a genius!" cried her brother, in admiration, as she came up, spluttering, and then made another dash. Soon Kitty's face was hidden inthe folds of a rough towel, and the others successively followed herlead. 

"My! how it freshens you!" said Marjorie, rubbing her rosy cheeks tillthey glowed. "I'm as wide awake as anything!"

"So'm I, " said King. "Kit, I take off my hat to you! Now it's half-pastten. I move we eat our foods, and then we can have a good time playingparcheesi or jack-straws. "

They drew up to the nursery table, and endeavored to enjoy the cookiesand apples. 

"How funny things taste at night, " said Kitty. "I'm not hungry, afterall. "

"You'd better wash your face again, " said Marjorie, looking at hersister's drooping eyelids. 

"Do something to her, " said King, in despair. 

So Marjorie tickled Kitty, until she made her laugh, and that roused hera little. 

"I won't go to sleep, " she said, earnestly; "truly, I won't. I want tosee the New Year come. Let's look out the window for it. "

Kitty's plans were always good ones. 

Drawing the curtains aside the three stood at the window, their armsabout each other. 

"Isn't it still?" whispered Marjorie, "and look at the moon!"

A yellow, dilapidated-looking, three-quarter sort of a moon was sinkingin the west, and the bark branches of the trees stood out blackly in thehalf-light. 

The roads gleamed white, and the shrubbery looked dark, the wholelandscape was weird and unlike the sunny scenes they knew so well. 

"I s'pose everybody in the house is abed now, but us, " said King. Hemeant it exultantly, but his voice had a tone of awe, that found an echoin the girls' hearts. 

"Come away from the window, " said Midge; turning back to the brightlylighted room. "Let's think of something nice to do. "

"I can think better here, " said Kitty, dropping heavily on the couch, herhead, by good luck; striking squarely in the middle of the pillow. 

"Kit, " said her brother, --"Kitty, --you, --you go to bed, --if you--if youcan't--"

As King spoke, he came across a big armchair, and quite unintentionallyhe let himself fall into it. It felt very pleasant, somehow, --so much so, indeed, that he neglected to finish his admonition to Kitty, and shewouldn't have heard it if he had!

Marjorie, by a strange coincidence, also met a most friendly Morrischair, which held out inviting arms. It seemed a pity to refuse suchcordiality, so Marjorie sat down in it a minute to do that thinkingthey had spoken about. What was it they were to think of? Somethingabout the moon? No, that wasn't it. Her new furs? Not quite;school, --Gladys, --cookies?

These thoughts drifted confusedly about Marjorie's brain for a fewmoments, and then, with a little tired sigh, her curly head dropped backon the Morris chair's velvet cushion, and her eyes closed. 

How those three children _did_ sleep! The sound, hard sleep that onlyhealthy, romping children know. When Mrs. Maynard softly opened the doora little later, she almost laughed aloud at the picturesque trio. 

But stifling her mirth lest she awake them, she called her husband to herside. After a few whispered words, they went away, and returned with downquilts and steamer rugs, which they gently tucked about the vanquishedheroes, and then lowering the lights left them asleep at their posts. 

For an hour the children slept soundly, and then, at ten minutes beforetwelve the nursery door was softly opened again. 

This time, Mr. And Mrs. Maynard, accompanied by Grandma Sherwood andUncle Steve, came in, apparently with the intention of staying. Mr. Maynard snapped on the lights, and the grownups smiled as they gazed onthe faces of the sleeping children. 

"What time is it, Fred?" asked Mrs. Maynard. 

"Seven minutes of twelve. "

"Waken them, then. There isn't any too much time. "

So Mr. Maynard sprung a small "watchman's rattle. " It made a pleasantwhirr, but he was obliged to hold it near each child's ear before thosedeep slumbers were disturbed. 

"What is it?" said King, who first opened his eyes. "Kitty, you'reasleep!"

His last waking thought possessed him as his eye fell on his sleepingsister, he spoke before he realized that he had been asleep himself. 

"What's the matter?" he said, seeing all the people standing about, andnoticing the rug over himself. 

"Nothing's the matter, " answered his father, blithely, "only the New Yearis hurrying toward us, and we all want to greet it together. "

"You bet we do!" cried King, now broad awake, and shaking himself out ofhis rug as he jumped up. 

Mrs. Maynard was rousing Kitty, and sat beside the half-asleep child withher arm round her, while Grandma was treating Marjorie in the same way. 

"It seems a shame, " began Grandma, but Uncle Steve interrupted:

"A shame to wake them? Not a bit of it! It would be a shame to let themsleep through a chance that they won't get again for a year! Hello!chickabiddies! Hello! Wake up! Fire! Murder! Thieves! Fred, give me thatrattle!"

Taking the noisy little toy, Uncle Steve sprang it vigorously, and wasrewarded for his efforts by seeing the two girls at last on their feetand smiling broadly, --wide awake now, indeed. 

"Five minutes grace, " said Mr. Maynard. "Out with your watches, you whohave them. The rest look on with somebody else. "

Kitty ran to her father's side, and cuddled in his arm, as she looked athis watch. Marjorie saw Uncle Steve's smile inviting her, so she flewacross the room to him; and King politely offered his watch to his motherand grandmother, saying the nursery clock would do for him. 

Care was taken to have all the time-pieces set exactly alike, and then itwas three minutes of midnight, and they waited. 

"He'll come in at the window, the New Year will, " said Mr. Maynard as heflung the casement wide open. "The old year is going. Bid him good-bye, children, you'll never see him again. Good-bye, old year, good-bye!"

"Good-bye, old year, good-bye!" they all said in concert, and murmured itagain, as the last seconds flew steadily by. 

"Happy New Year!" shouted Mr. Maynard, as his second-hand reached themark, but he was no quicker than the others, and all the voices rang outa "Happy New Year" simultaneously. 

Then the village clock began to strike twelve, all the bells in thelittle town began to ring, some firing was heard, and shouts frompassers-by in the streets added to the general jubilee. 

"Isn't it splendid!" cried Marjorie, as she leaned out of the window. "The moon is gone, but see the bright, bright stars, all twinkling 'HappyNew Year' to us!"

"May it indeed be a Happy New Year for you, my dear child, " said herfather, as he kissed her tenderly. 

And then everybody was exchanging kisses and greetings, and good wishes, and Marjorie realized that at last, she had sat up to "see the New Yearin. "

"But I don't see how we happened to fall asleep, " she said, lookingpuzzled. 

"I, either, " said King; "I was just bound I wouldn't, and then I did. "

"You were bound I shouldn't, too, " said Kitty, "but I did!"

"You all did!" said Mr. Maynard. "Such sleeping I never saw!"

"Well, it was lovely of you to wake us up, " said Marjorie; "I wouldn'thave missed all this for anything. "

"All things come to him who waits, " said her father, "and you certainlywaited very quietly and patiently!"

"And now, skip to bed, " said Mrs. Maynard, "and not until three hundredand sixty-five nights are passed, do we have such a performance as thisagain. "

"All right, " said the children, "good-night, and Happy New Year!"

"Good-night and Happy New Year!" echoed the grown-ups. 

CHAPTER V

A TEARFUL TIME

The New Year was about a week old, and so far, had nobly fulfilled allhopes of happiness. 

To be sure, Marjorie had been obliged to begin school again, but as shehad the companionship of Gladys Fulton, who dearly loved to go to school, it helped her to bear the trial. 

She had been to spend the afternoon with Gladys and was returning home atfive o'clock, as was the rule for winter days. 

She turned in at her own gate-way, and had there been any one to see her, it might have been noticed that her demeanor and expression were veryunlike the usual appearance of gay, laughing Marjorie Maynard. 

In fact, she looked the picture of utter despair and dejection. Her headhung down, her steps were slow, and yet she seemed filled with a riot ofindignation. 

Her face was flushed and her eyes red, and though not exactly crying, great shivering sobs now and then shook her whole body. 

Once inside her own home grounds, she quickened her pace a little, andalmost ran up the verandah steps and in at the door. 

She slammed it behind her, and though, I am sorry to say, this was not anunusual proceeding for Midget, yet she was truly trying to break herselfof the habit. 

But this time she gave the door a hard, angry slam, and flinging herwraps anywhere, as she went along, she brushed hastily through thevarious rooms in search of her mother. 

But Mrs. Maynard and Kitty had gone out driving, and King wasn't at home, either, so poor Marjorie, her eyes now blinded with surging tears, stumbled on to her own room, and threw herself, sobbing, on her littlewhite bed. 

She buried her face in the pillow and gave way to such tumultuous griefthat the brass bedstead fairly shook in sympathy. 

"I can't bear it!" she murmured, half aloud; "I _can't_ bear it! It's awicked shame! I don't Want to live any more! Oh, I _wish_ Mother wouldcome home!"

For nearly half an hour Marjorie cried and cried. Now with big, bursting, heart-rending sobs, and at quieter intervals, with floods of hot tears. 

Her little handkerchief became a useless, wet ball, and she dried hereyes, spasmodically, on various parts of the pillow-case. 

At last, in one of her paroxysms of woe, she felt a little hand on hercheek, and Rosy Posy's little voice said, sweetly:

"What 'e matter, Middy? Wosy Posy loves 'oo!"

This was a crumb of comfort, and Marjorie drew the baby's cool cheekagainst her own hot one. 

The child scrambled up on the bed, beside her sister, and petted hergently, saying:

"Don't ky, Middy; 'top kyin'. "

"Oh, Rosy Posy, I'm so miserable! where is Mother?"

"Muvver dawn yidin'. Wosy take care of 'oo. Want Nannie?"

"No, I don't want Nannie. You stay here, little sister, till Mothercomes. "

"Ess. Wosy 'tay wiv Middy. Dear Middy. "

The loving baby cuddled up to her sister, and smoothed back the tangledcurls with her soft little hand, until exhausted Marjorie, quite worn outwith her turbulent storm of tears, fell asleep. 

And here Mrs. Maynard found them, as, coming in soon, she went in searchof her eldest daughter. 

"Why, Baby, " she said; "what's the matter? Is Marjorie sick?"

"No, " said Rosamond, holding up a tiny finger. "She's aseep. She kied andkied, Middy did, an' nen she went seepy-by, all herself. "

"Cried!" exclaimed Mrs. Maynard, looking at Midget's swollen, tear-stained face. "What was she crying about?"

"I donno, " answered Rosy, "but she feeled awful bad 'bout somefin'. "

"I should think she did! You run away to Nurse, darling; you were goodBaby to take care of Midget, but, now, run away and leave her to Mother. "

Mrs. Maynard brought some cool water and bathed the flushed little face, and then sprinkling some violet water on a handkerchief she laid itlightly across Midget's brow. After a time the child woke, and found hermother sitting beside her. 

"Oh, Mother!" she cried; "oh, Mother!"

"What is it, dearie?" said Mrs. Maynard, putting her arms round Marjorie. "Tell Mother, and we'll make it all right, somehow. "

She was quite sure Miss Mischief had been up to some prank, which hadturned out disastrously. But it must have been a serious one, and perhapsthere were grave consequences to be met. 

"Oh, Mother, it's the most dreadful thing!" Here Marjorie's sobs brokeout afresh, and she really couldn't speak coherently. 

"Never mind, " said Mrs. Maynard, gently, fearing the excitable childwould fly into hysterics. "Never mind it to-night. Tell me about itto-morrow. "

"N-no, --I w-want to tell you now, --only, --I c-can't talk. Oh, Mother, what shall I d-do? G-Gladys--"

"Yes, dear; Gladys, --what did she do? Or perhaps you and Gladys--"

Mrs. Maynard now surmised that the two girls were in some mischievousscrape, and she felt positive that Marjorie had been the instigator, asindeed she usually was. 

"Oh, Mother, darling, " as something in Mrs. Maynard's tone made Marjoriesmile a little through her tears, "it isn't _mischief_! It's a thousandtimes worse than that!"

Middy was quieter now, with the physical calm that always follows a stormof tears. 

"It's this; Gladys is going away! Forever! I mean, they're _all_ going tomove away, --out west, and I'll never see her again!"

Mrs. Maynard realized at once what this meant to Marjorie. The girls weresuch good friends, and neither of them cared so much for any one else, asfor each other. The Fultons lived just across the street, and had alwayslived there, through both the little girls' lives. It was almost likelosing her own brother or sister, for Marjorie and Gladys were aslovingly intimate as two sisters could be. 

Also, it seemed a case where no word of comfort or cheer could be spoken. 

So Mrs. Maynard gently caressed her troubled child, and said:

"My poor, darling Midget; I'm _so_ sorry for you. Are you sure? Tell meall about it. "

"Yes, Mother, " went on Marjorie, helped already by her mother's lovingsympathy; "they just told me this afternoon. I've been over there, youknow, and Gladys and Mrs. Fulton told me all about it. Mr. Fulton isn'twell, or something, and for his health, they're all going to California, to live there. And they're going right away! The doctor says they musthurry. And, oh, what _shall_ I do without Gladys? I love her so!"

"Dear little girl, this is your first trouble; and it has come to youjust in the beginning of this happy New Year. I can't tell you how sorryI am for you, and how I long to help you bear it. But there's no way Ican help, except by sympathy and love. "

"You _do_ help, Mother. I thought I'd _die_ before you came!"

"Yes, darling, I know my sympathy helps you, but I mean, I can't doanything to lessen your sorrow at losing Gladys. "

"No, --and oh, Mother, isn't it awful? Why, I've _always_ had Gladys. "

"You'll have to play more with Kitty. "

"Oh, of course I love Kit, to play with at home, and to be my sister. ButGlad is my chum, my intimate friend, and we always sit together inschool, and everything like that. Kitty's in another room, and besides, she has Dorothy Adams for her friend. You know the difference betweenfriends and sisters, don't you, Mother?"

"Of course I do, Midget, dear. You and Kitty are two loving littlesisters, but I quite understand how you each love your friends of yourown age. "

"And Kitty can keep Dorothy, but I must lose Gladys, " and Marjorie's sobsbroke out anew. 

"Why, Mopsy Midget Maynard! Why are we having April showers in January?"

Mr. Maynard's cheery voice sounded in Marjorie's doorway, and his wifebeckoned him to come in. 

"See what you can do for our little girl, " she said; "she is trying tobear her first real trouble, and I'm sure, after these first awful hoursshe's going to be brave about it. "

"What is it, Mops?" said her father, taking the seat Mrs. Maynardvacated. "Tell your old father-chum all about it. You know your troublesare mine, too. "

"Oh, Father, " said Marjorie, brightening a little under the influence ofhis strong, helpful voice; "Gladys Fulton is going away from Rockwell tolive; and I can't have her for my chum any more. "

"Yes, I know; I saw Mr. Fulton and he told me. He's pretty ill, Marjorie. "

"Yes, I know it; and I'm awful sorry for him, and for them. But I'm sorryfor myself too; I don't want Gladys to go away. "

"That's so; you will lose your chum, won't you? By jiminy! it _is_ hardlines, little girl. How are you going to take it?"

Marjorie stopped crying, and stared at her father. 

"How am I going to take it?" she said, in surprise. 

"Yes; that's what I asked. Of course, it's a sorrow, and a deep one, andyou'll be very lonely without Gladys, and though your mother and I, andall of us, will help you all we can, yet we can't help much. So, it's upto you. Are you going to give way, and mope around, and make yourselfeven more miserable than need be; or, are you going to be brave, andhonestly try to bear this trouble nobly and patiently?"

Marjorie looked straight into her father's eyes, and realized that he wasnot scolding or lecturing her, he was looking at her with deep, lovingsympathy that promised real help. 

"I will try to bear it bravely, " she said, slowly; "but, Father, thatdoesn't make it any easier to have Gladys go. "

Mr. Maynard smiled at this very human sentiment, and said:

"No, Midget, dear, it doesn't, in one way; but in another way it does. You mustn't think that I don't appreciate fully your sorrow at losingGladys. But troubles come into every life, and though this is your first, I cannot hope it will be your last. So, if you are to have more of them, you must begin to learn to bear them rightly, and so make them help yourcharacter-growth and not hinder it. "

"But, Father, you see Gladys helps my character a lot. She loves to go toschool, and I hate it. But if I go with her, and sit with her I don'tmind it so much. But without her, --oh how _can_ I go to school withouther?"

Again Marjorie wept as one who could not be comforted, and Mr. Maynardrealized it was truly a crisis in the little girl's life. 

"Marjorie, " he said, very tenderly, "it _is_ a hard blow, and I don'twonder it is crushing you. Nor do I expect you to take a philosophicalview of it at present. But, my child, we'll look at it practically, atleast. Gladys _is_ going; nothing can change that fact. Now, for my sake, as well as your own, I'm going to _ask_ you to be my own brave daughter, and not disappoint me by showing a lack of cheerful courage to meetmisfortune. "

"I don't want to be babyish, Father, " said Midget, suddenly feelingashamed of herself. 

"You're not babyish, dear; it's right and womanly to feel grief at losingGladys; but since it has to be, I want you to conquer that grief, and notlet it conquer you. "

"I'll try, " said Midge, wiping away some tears. 

"You know, Marjorie, the old rhyme:

"'For every evil under the sun, There is a remedy, or there's none;If there is one, try to find it, And if there is none, never mind it. '

"Now, I don't say 'never mind it' about this matter, but since there's noremedy, do the best you can to rise above it, as you will have to do manytimes in your future years. "

"Father, " said Marjorie, thoughtfully; "that sounds awful noble, but Idon't believe I quite understand. What can I _do_ to 'rise above it'?"

"Marjorie, you're a trump! I'd rather you'd be practical, than wise. Andthere's no better weapon with which to fight trouble than practicality. Now, I'll tell you what to do. And I don't mean today or tomorrow, forjust at first, you wouldn't be a human little girl if you _didn't_ nearlycry your eyes out at the loss of your friend. But soon, --say about nextTuesday, --if you could begin to smile a little, and though I know it willbe hard, smile a little wider and wider each day--"

"Till the top of my head comes off?" said Marjorie, smiling already. 

"Yes; theoretically. But make up your mind that since Gladys must go, you're not going to let the fact turn you into a sad, dolorous mopeinstead of Mops. "

"That's all very well at home, Father dear, but I'll miss her so atschool. "

"Of course you will; but is there any remedy?"

"No, there isn't. I don't want any other seat-mate, and I don't want tosit alone. "

"Oh! Well, I can't see any way out of that, unless I go and sit withyou. "

Marjorie had to laugh at this. "You couldn't squeeze in the space, " shesaid. 

"Well, then you've proved there's _no_ remedy. So, never mind it! I meanthat, dearie. When you are lonely and just fairly _aching_ for Gladys, put it bravely out of your mind. "

"How can I?"

"Why, fill your mind with something else that will crowd it out. Say toyourself, 'There's that sorrow poking his head up again, and I must pushhim down. ' Then go at something _hard_. Study your spelling, or go on apicnic, _anything_ to crowd that persistent sorrow out. "

"Can't I ever think of Gladys?"

"Oh, yes, indeed! but think gay, happy thoughts. If memories of your goodtimes make you sad, then cut them out, and wonder what sort of fun she'shaving where she is. Write her nice, cheery letters. Letters are lots offun. "

"Indeed they are, " said Marjorie, brightening. "I'll love to get herletters. "

"Of course you will. And you can send each other postcards and littlegifts, and if you try you can have a lot of pleasure with Gladys in spiteof old sorrow. "

"Daddy, you're such a dear! You've helped me a heap. "

"That's what daddys are for, Midget mine. You're one of my four favoritechildren, and don't you suppose I'd help you to the earth, if you wantedit?"

"I 'spect you would. And, Father, you said I could cry till aboutTuesday, didn't you?"

"Why, yes; but make it a little shorter spell each day, and, --ifperfectly convenient, arrange to do it when I'm at home. "

"Oh, Father, that's the time I won't cry! When you're here to talk tome. "

"You don't say so! Then I'll retire from business, close up my office, and stay at home all day hereafter. Anything I can do to help a lady indistress, must be done!"

They were both laughing now, and Midge had quite stopped crying, thoughher heart was heavy underneath her smiles. 

But the whole current of her thoughts had been changed by her talk withher father, and as she made herself tidy, and went down to dinner, shefelt a responsibility on her to act as became the brave daughter of sucha dear father. 

And, strange to say, the feeling was not entirely unpleasant. 

CHAPTER VI

THE GOING OF GLADYS

Gladys was to go away early one Saturday morning. 

On Friday afternoon Marjorie gave a little farewell party for her. 

Mrs. Maynard arranged this as a pleasant send-off for Marjorie's friend, and determined that though it was a sad occasion, it should be also amerry one. 

So, instead of depending on the guests to make their own entertainment, aprofessional entertainer had been engaged from New York, and he sang andrecited and did pantomimes that were so funny nobody could help laughing. 

And, too, though all the children liked Dick and Gladys Fulton, yet nonefelt so very sorry to have them leave Rockwell as Marjorie did. 

Even Kingdon, though he was good chums with Dick, had other chums, and, while sorry to have Dick go, he didn't take it greatly to heart. 

Marjorie was truly trying to be brave, but she looked at Gladys with aheart full of love and longing to keep her friend near her. 

As for Gladys, herself, she, too, was sad at leaving Marjorie, but shewas so full of wonder and curiosity about the new home they were goingto, in the land of flowers and sunshine, that she was fairly impatient toget there. 

"Just think, Mopsy, " she said, as the two girls sat together at the partyfeast, "the roses out there are as big as cabbages, and bloom all theyear round. "

"Are they really?" said Midget, interested in spite of herself. 

"Yes, and I'll send you a big box of them as soon as I get there. They'llkeep all right, 'cause mother received a box the other day, and they wereas fresh as fresh. "

"And you'll write to me, Glad, won't you?" said Marjorie, a littlewistfully. 

"'Course I will! I'll write every week, and you write every week. Whatday do you choose?"

"Monday; that comes first. "

"All right. You write to me every Monday, and I'll write to you everyThursday. "

"You can't answer a Monday letter on Thursday, " put in Gladys's brotherDick; "it takes five or six days for a letter to go. "

"Well, I'll write the Monday after you go, " said Marjorie, "and then youanswer it as soon as you get it; then I'll answer yours as soon as I getit, and so on. "

"All right, I will. And I'll write you a letter while I'm on the train, travelling. Of course we'll be five or six days getting there ourselves. "

"So you will. Oh, Gladys, California is awful far away!"

"Yes, isn't it! But, Mops, maybe you can come out there and visit me sometime. "

Marjorie looked doubtful. "No, " she said, "I don't think I could go andleave them all, and I don't s'pose you mean for us all to come. "

"No, I meant just you. Well, I'll come here and visit you, some time, how's that?"

"Lovely!" cried Midge, with sparkling eyes. "Oh, will you, Gladys? Thatwill be something to look forward to. Will you?"

"Of course I will, Mops, dear. I know mother'll let me, and I'd love tocome. "

This was a real consolation, and Marjorie laid it up in her heart forcomfort on lonely days. 

After the party supper was over, most of the young guests gave Gladys orDick little gifts which they had brought them as remembrances. 

They were merely pretty trifles, but the Fulton children were greatlypleased, and declared they should never forget their Rockwell friends forany they might make in California. 

Marjorie gave Gladys a gold neck-chain, with a little gold heartcontaining her picture, and Gladys had already given Midge her ownportrait framed in silver to stand on her dressing-table. The youngguests all went away except the two Fultons, who were to stay to dinner. Mr. Maynard came home, and with a determination to keep Marjorie'sspirits up, he was especially gay and nonsensical. 

"I suppose Uncle Sam will have to put on extra mail service when you twogirls get to corresponding, " he said. 

"Yes, Mr. Maynard, " said Gladys. "Marjorie and I are both going to writeevery week, and I'm going to send her flowers by mail. "

"Well, don't send any live rattlesnakes or Gila monsters in the mail. They might starve on the way. "

"I'd rather they'd starve on the way than reach here alive, " saidMarjorie, with a little shudder. 

"Do they have those things where you're going, Glad?"

"I don't know. Isn't it strange to be going to live in a place that youdon't know anything about?"

"It's strange to have you live anywhere but in Rockwell, " said Marjorie, and Gladys squeezed her hand under the table. 

But at last the time came for the real farewells. 

"Cut it short, " cried Mr. Maynard, gaily, though there was a lump in hisown throat as Gladys and Marjorie threw their arms about each other'sneck for the last time. 

The Fultons were to leave very early the next morning, and the girlswould not meet again. 

Both were sobbing, and Dick and Kingdon stood by, truly distressed attheir sisters' grief. 

"Come, dearie, let Gladys go now, " said Mrs. Maynard, for knowingMarjorie's excitable nature, she feared these paroxysms of tears. 

"No, no! she shan't go!" Midge almost screamed, and Gladys was also in astate of convulsive weeping. 

Mr. Maynard went to Marjorie, and laid his big cool hand on her brow. 

"My little girl, " he whispered in her ear "father wants you to be brave_now_. "

Midget look up into his dear, kind eyes, and then, with a truly braveeffort she conquered herself. 

"I will, Father, " she whispered back, and then, with one last embrace, she said, "Good-bye, Gladys, dear Gladys, good-bye. "

She let her go, and Dick took his sister's arm in silence, and they wentaway. 

Both Mr. And Mrs. Maynard were somewhat shaken by the children's tragedy, but neither thought it wise to show it. 

"Now, Mopsy Moppet, " said her father, "what do you think I have here?"

He took a parcel from the mantel, and held it up. 

"I don't know, " said Midge, trying to smile; "what is it?"

"Well, it's a game, --a brand new game, and none of your poky oldgo-to-sleep affairs either. It's a lively, wide-awake game, that onlylively, wide-awake children can play. So come one, come all!"

They all gathered round the table, and Mr. Maynard explained the rules ofthe new game. Marjorie loved games, and as this was really a mostinteresting one, she couldn't help enjoying it, and was soon absorbed inthe play. It combined the elements of both skill and chance, and causedmany moments of breathless suspense, as one or another gained or lost inthe count. 

When it was finished, Marjorie was again her own rosy, smiling self, andthough she still felt the vague weight of sorrow, she had spent apleasant, enjoyable hour. 

"And now to bed, chickadees, " cried their father, "it's long past nine!"

"Is it really?" exclaimed Midget, "how the time has flown!"

"That's because you were my own brave girl, and tried to rise abovemisfortune, " said Mr. Maynard, as he bade her good-night. "No tearypillows to-night, girlie. "

"No, Father, dear, I hope not. "

"Just go to sleep, and dream that you have a few friends still east ofthe Rockies. "

"More than I'll ever have west of them, " responded Marjorie, and thenwith her arm round Kitty's waist, the two girls went upstairs to bed. 

The next morning at the breakfast table, Mr. Maynard made a sudden andunexpected announcement. 

"Mother Maynard, " he said, "if you can spare your eldest daughter, Ithink I'll borrow her for the day. "

"What!" cried Marjorie, looking up in surprise. 

"You may have her, " said Mrs. Maynard, smiling, "if you'll return hersafely. "

"Oh, I can't promise that. I'm of rather careless habits, and I mightmislay her somewhere. "

"Well, I'll trust you for this once. Mops, do you want to go to town withFather?"

Marjorie's eyes flashed an answer, and Kitty exclaimed:

"Without us?"

"I grieve to disappoint you, Kitsie, " said Mr. Maynard, "but you stillhave your friend Dorothy. Midget is cruelly deprived of her chum, and sofor one day she is going to put up with a doddering old gentlemaninstead. Get your bonnet and shawl, my child. "

Marjorie looked at her mother for confirmation of this good news, andreceiving an answering smile, she excused herself from the table and ranaway to her room. Nannie helped her, and soon she tripped downstairsprettily dressed in a dark blue cloth frock and jacket, a blue felt hat, and her Christmas furs. 

"Whew! what a fine lady!" said her father. "I shall have to don my besthat and feathers, I think. "

"I've lost my chum, too, " said King, as he watched the pair about tostart. 

"Yes, you have, my boy, but he wasn't your 'perfectly darlingconfidential friend, ' as girls' chums are! Moreover, you haven't shedsuch gallons of first-class well-salted tears as this young person has. No, Son, I'm sorry to leave you behind, but you didn't weep and wail loudenough!"

King had to laugh at the way his father put it, but he well knew Marjoriewas given a day's pleasure to divert her mind from Gladys's departure, and he didn't begrudge his sister the trip. 

"We must be extra kind to old Midge, Kit, " he said, as Marjorie and herfather walked briskly down the drive. 

"Yes, " said Kitty, earnestly, "she does feel awful about losing Gladys. I'm going to make fudge for her, while she's gone to-day. "

"I wish I could do something for her. Boys are no good!"

"You are too!" cried loyal little Kitty. "You can help her with herarithmetic every night. She can do it all right, if she has a littlehelp, and Glad used to help her a lot. "

"Good for you, Kitsie! of course I will. Dear old Midge, I'm terriblesorry for her. "

Meantime, Marjorie, by her father's side, was rushing along in the trainto New York. 

While Mr. Maynard read his paper, he glanced sometimes at his daughter, and rejoiced that she was interestedly gazing out of the window at theflying scenery. 

Occasionally, she turned and smiled at him, but she said little, and heknew she was being brave and trying not to think too much about her loss. 

Gladys had gone away early and when they had passed the closed anddeserted-looking Fulton house, Marjorie had swallowed hard and looked theother way. 

But once in New York, the child had no time to think of anything but thepresent hour, so full of joy was the whole day. 

"My time is yours, " announced Mr. Maynard, as they reached the city. "I've telephoned to the office that I won't be there at all today, sowhat shall we do?"

"Oh, Father, a whole Ourday, all for you and me?" Marjorie's eyes dancedat this unheard of experience. 

"Yes, Midget; partly because I'm sorry for my troubled little girl, andpartly because you _are_ bearing your trouble bravely and cheerfully. "

"Who wouldn't be cheerful, with a whole Ourday, and a whole father, allto myself!"

"Well, you'll probably never have another, alone with me. So make themost of it. Where shall we go first?"

"Oh, I don't know; it's all so lovely. "

"Then I'll choose. Step this way, Madame. "

This way, was toward a line of waiting taxicabs, and Mr. Maynard engagedone, and handed Marjorie in. 

"A taxy ride! Oh, lovely!" she cried, as they started off at a fine pace. 

On they went, spinning across town, till they reached Fifth Avenue, andturned up that broad thoroughfare. 

Marjorie enjoyed every minute, and looked out of the open window at thebustling city life all about. Up town they went for blocks and blocks, and stopped at the Metropolitan Art Museum. 

They went in here, after Mr. Maynard had dismissed the cab, and staid therest of the morning. 

Marjorie, perhaps, would not have cared so much for the pictures andstatues had she been alone; but her father called her attention tocertain ones, and told her about them in such a way, that she was amusedand instructed both. 

They looked at strange and curious relics of ancient times; they studiedthe small models of the world's greatest buildings; and they lingered inthe hall full of casts of the noblest statues of all time. 

"Hungry, Chickadee?" said Mr. Maynard, at last, looking at his watch. 

"Why, yes, I believe I am; but I hadn't thought of it. "

"I'm glad you are, for I can assure you I am. Suppose we make a mad dashfor a pie-shop. "

"Come on, " said Marjorie, and away they went, through the turnstiles, andout upon Fifth Avenue again. 

Mr. Maynard hailed a motor-omnibus, and Marjorie carefully climbed thespiral staircase at the back. Her father followed, and sitting up on topof the 'bus, in the crisp, wintry air and bright sunshine, they wentwhizzing down the avenue. 

"Isn't it fun, Father!" said Marjorie, as she held tightly to his arm. 

"Yes, and there's a fine view to-day. " He pointed out many famousbuildings, and when they neared a large hotel, he said:

"We'll have to get out, Midge. I shall pine away with hunger beforeanother block. "

"Out we go!" was the reply, and they clambered down the twisty stair. 

"Is there anything that would tempt your appetite, Miss Maynard?" saidher father, as, seated at a small round table, he looked over the menu. 

"No, thank you; I don't think I can eat a thing!" said Midge, droppingher eyes, and trying to look fragile and delicate. 

"No? But really, you must try to taste of something. Say, the left wingof a butterfly, with hard sauce. "

This made Marjorie laugh, and she said, "I couldn't eat it all, but Imight nibble at it. "

Then what Mr. Maynard really did, was to order Marjorie's favouritedishes. 

First, they had grape-fruit, all cut in bits, and piled up in dainty, long-stemmed glasses. Then, they had a soft, thick soup, and thensweetbreads with mushrooms. 

"You're not to get ill, you know, " said Mr. Maynard, as Marjorie showeda surprising appetite, "but I do want you to have whatever you liketo-day. "

"Oh, I won't get ill, " declared Marjorie, gaily, "and now, may I selectthe ice cream?"

"Yes, if you won't ask for plum pudding also. "

"No, but I do want little cakes, iced all over. Pink and green and whiteand yellow ones. "

These were allowed, and Marjorie blissfully kept on nibbling them, whileMr. Maynard sipped his coffee. In the afternoon they went to a matin�e. It was one of the gorgeous spectacular productions, founded upon an oldfairy tale, and Marjorie was enraptured with the beautiful tableaux, thewonderful scenery, and the gay music. 

"Oh, Father, " she said, "aren't we having the gorgeousest time! You arethe beautifulest man in the whole world!"

After the performance, Mr. Maynard spoke of going home, but Marjorie'seyes held a mute appeal, which he could not resist. 

"Ice cream _again!_" he said, though she had not spoken the words. "Well, ice cream it is, then, but no rich cakes this time. I promised MotherdyI'd bring you home safe and sound. But I'll tell you, we'll buy some ofthose cakes to take home, and you may have them to-morrow. "

"And Kitty and King, too, " said Midge. "And let's take them somebuttercups. "

So the candy and cakes were bought and carried home by two tired but veryhappy people, and Marjorie fully appreciated the lovely day her fatherhad given her, because of Gladys's going away. 

"And I _will_ be good and brave, " she resolved to herself, on her wayhome in the train. "I'm going to try to be just as cheerful and pleasantas If Gladys hadn't gone away at all, but was in her own house, acrossthe street. "

CHAPTER VII

THE COMING OF DELIGHT

But though Marjorie made her brave resolutions in good faith, it was hardto keep them. School was awful. The very sight of Gladys's empty seatmade Midge choke with tears. 

Miss Lawrence appreciated the case, and was most gentle and kind toMarjorie, but still the trouble was there. 

"Wouldn't you like to have Katy Black sit with you, dear?" asked theteacher. 

"No, thank you. " said Midge, "I can't bear to put any one in Gladys'splace. Don't bother about me, Miss Lawrence, I'm not going to cry. "

She didn't cry, but she sighed so frequently and so deeply, thatkind-hearted Miss Lawrence almost wept in sympathy. 

At home it was better. The Maynards always had good times at home, and ofcourse when there, Marjorie didn't miss Gladys so much. But the longmornings in the school-room, and the long afternoons when she wanted torun over to Gladys's house were almost unbearable. 

Merry, madcap Midget became a sober-faced little girl, who was all themore pathetic because she tried to be cheerful. 

Mrs. Maynard felt worried about the matter, and proposed to her husbandthat she should take Marjorie, and go away for a trip somewhere. 

"No, " said Mr. Maynard; "let her fight it out. It's hard for her, butit's doing her real good, and bringing out the best side of her nature. We'll all help her all we can, and if I'm not greatly mistaken ourMarjorie will come out of this ordeal with flying colors. "

"It's will-power, little daughter, " said Mr. Maynard to her one evening. "Just determine that this cloud shall not entirely obscure the sun foryou. "

"Yes, " said Midge, smiling, "it's just an eclipse, isn't it?"

"Yes, and it seems to be a total eclipse; but even total eclipses pass, if we wait long enough. Any letter from Gladys this week?"

"One came this morning. Would you like to read it?"

"Of course I should, very much. "

"It's strange, " said Marjorie, as she produced the letter, "for allGladys loves school so, and is a good student, she can't seem to spellright. "

"I know another lady who has difficulty in that direction, " said Mr. Maynard, smiling. 

"Yes, but Glad is different. She can spell the spelling-book stickers, 'embarrassed, ' and 'cleemosynary, ' and such words, 'cause she studiesthem; and then she'll misspell simple every-day words. Now, you see. "

Mr. Maynard smiled a little as he read the letter. 

_Los Angeles, Cal. _

DEAR MARJORIE:

We are having a lovely time. We have not found a house yet, but arestaying at the hotel till we do find one to suite us, I like it here verymuch. I miss you very much, dear Marjorie. There are lovely people in thehotel, and we go for walks to pick flowers. The flowers here arebeautiful. Now I must close. With lots of love and kisses, your

LOVING GLADYS. 

"Between you and me and the post, Midget, I don't think that's a veryinteresting letter, do you?"

"No, Father, I don't. I thought Glad would write more as she talks. Shedoesn't talk a bit like that, when we're together. "

"I know it, Mops, I've heard her. But some people never can write as theytalk. As soon as they get a pen between their fingers, their brain seemsto freeze up, and break off in little, cold, hard sentences. Now, whatsort of a letter do you write?"

"Here's the answer I wrote to-day to Gladys. I haven't sent it yet. "

MY DARLING GLADYS:

I wish you would come back. It's perfectly horrid at school without you, and though Miss Lawrence said Katy Black could sit with me, I don't wanther. She's a nice enough girl, but she isn't you. And nobody is, Dear oldGlad, I do miss you so. Of course as there's no remedy under the sun, I'mbeing cheerful and gay about it, but my heart misses you just the same. We don't have the Jinks Club any more. It made me sick to go to itwithout you. I expect you're having good times in California, and I'mglad of that. Write soon to

YOUR LOVING MOPSY MIDGET. 

"Now, of the two, Midge, yours is the much better letter. Don't ever tryto copy Gladys's style, will you?"

"No; I'm glad you like mine best. You see, I write without thinking aboutanything except not to spill the ink. "

"A very good plan. Stick to it all your life. Midget, I don't want to beunkind, but has it struck you that Gladys is not so heart-broken overyour separation as you are?"

A look of pain came into Marjorie's loyal eyes, as she said:

"It does seem so, I know. But I think it's because Gladys has all sortsof new places and new people to amuse her, while I'm left here alone. "

"It's partly that, little girl; and partly because Gladys hasn't such awarm, loving loyal heart as my Marjorie's. "

"She is different, " admitted Midget; "but I know she loves me, even if itdoesn't say so right out in her letter. "

"Perhaps she forgot to put it in, because she was so busy trying not tospill the ink. "

"Perhaps so, " agreed Marjorie, answering the twinkle in her father's eye. 

"And now, Miss Mops, I have a bit of news for you. The Fulton house isrented to some people from New York. "

"Is it?" said Marjorie, indifferently. 

"And in the family is a girl twelve years of age. "

"And you think she'll take Glad's place!" cried Midge, indignantly. "Well, I can just tell you she won't! A girl from New York! She'll bestuck-up, and superior, and look down on us Rockwell girls!"

"How do you know all this?"

"I know; 'cause Katy Black had a girl from New York visiting her, and shewas just horrid! All stiff and mincy, and dropping curtseys every twominutes!"

"But you're taught to drop curtseys. "

"Yes, when I enter or leave a room where there are ladies, but that girlwas always at it, in school and everywhere. "

"Sort of a jumping-jack, wasn't she? Well, try to like this new girl, dearie; it's the best I can do for you in the way of neighbors. "

"Oh, I may like her, --and I'll be polite to her, of course; but I know Ishan't want her for an intimate friend, like Glad. "

"Perhaps not; but I was so pleased when I heard a little girl was comingto live across the street, that I think you ought to be pleased too. "

"Well, I will! I am! And if she isn't too stuck-up, I'll try to likeher. "

A few afternoons later, King, who was sitting by a front window, calledout:

"Hi! I say, Mops! Here's the new family moving into the Fulton house!"

Marjorie only upset a waste-basket and a very small table as she ran tothe window to look out. 

Kitty raced after her, and Rosy Posy toddled up too, so in a moment thefour were eagerly gazing at the new-comers, themselves quite hidden bythe lace curtains. 

"Nice looking bunch, " commented King, as he watched a well-dressed ladyand gentleman get out of the carriage. 

"And there's the girl!" cried Marjorie, as a child followed them. "Oh, she _is_ a stuck-up!"

"How do you know?" said King. "I think she's a daisy!"

They could only see her back, as the new neighbor walked up the path tothe house, but she seemed to be of a dainty, not to say finicky type. 

She wore a large hat with feathers, and a black velvet coat that coveredher frock completely. 

A mass of fluffy golden hair hung below the big black hat, and the littlegirl tripped along in a way that if not "mincing, " was certainly"citified. "

"No, I don't like her, " declared Midge, as she watched the stranger go upthe steps and into the house; "she isn't a bit like Gladys. "

"Neither am I, " said King, "but you like me. "

"Yes, you dear, cunning little sweet thing, I do like you, " said Midget, touching King's hair in a teasing way. 

He promptly pulled off her hair-ribbon, and as Marjorie felt in thehumor, this began one of their favorite games of make-believe. 

"The diamond tiara!" she shrieked, "the villain hath stole it!"

"Horrors!" cried Kitty, "then shall he be captured, and forced to restoreit!"

She pounced on King, and aided by Marjorie, they threw him on the couch, and wrapped his head in the afghan. Horrible growls came from theprisoner, but no word of surrender. 

"Art vanquished?" asked Kitty pulling the afghan away from one of hiseyes. 

"I art not!" he declared in a muffled voice, but with so terrific a glarefrom that one eye, that they hastily covered him up again. 

But he managed to free himself, and stood towering above theterror-stricken girls, who now knelt at his feet and begged for mercy. 

"Spare us!" moaned Kit. "We are but lorn damsels who seek food andshelter!"

"Me wants a selter, too, " announced Rosy Posy, joining the others, andclasping her little fat hands as they did. "What is a selter?"

"A selter for none of you!" roared King, with threatening gestures. "Tothe dungeon, all three! Ha, varlets, appear, and do my bidding!"

"I'll be a varlet, " said Midge, suddenly changing her r�le. "We'll putLady Katherine in the dungeon, and let the fair Lady Rosamond gofree!"

"As thou sayest, " said King, agreeably, and, though bravely resisting, Kitty was overpowered, and thrown into a dungeon under the table. Fromthis she contrived to escape by the clever expedient of creeping out atthe other side, but as it was then time to get ready for dinner, the gamecame to an untimely end. 

"We've seen the new girl, Father, " said Marjorie, as they sat at thetable. 

"Have you? Well, I've seen the new man, --that is, if you refer to our newneighbors across the street. "

"Yes, in Gladys's house. What's his name, Father?"

"Mr. Spencer. I met him at the post-office, and Mr. Gage introduced us. Mr. Gage is the agent who has the Fulton house in charge, and he told webefore that these newcomers are fine people. I liked Mr. Spencerexceedingly. I'm sorry, Mops, you're so determined not to like thedaughter. Mr. Spencer tells me she's a lovable child. "

"Oh, of course he'd think so, --he's her father. "

"Well, I admit, fathers are a prejudiced class. Perhaps I have too highan opinion of my own brood. "

"You couldn't have, " said Kitty, calmly, and Mr. Maynard laughed as helooked at the four smiling faces, and responded:

"I don't believe I could!"

"Don't spoil them, Fred, " said Mrs. Maynard, warningly, but King brokein:

"Too late, Mother! We're spoiled already. Father's high opinion of us hasmade us puffed up and conceited. "

"Nonsense, King, " cried Midge; "we're not conceited. Not nearly as muchso as that girl across the way. You ought to see, Father, how she hoppedup the walk! Like a scornful grasshopper!"

"Marjorie, " said Mrs. Maynard, repressing a smile, "you must notcriticise people so; especially those you don't know. "

"Well, she did, Mother. She thinks because she came from New York, Rockwell people are no good at all. "

"How do you know that, Midge?" said her father, a little gravely. 

"Oh, Midget is a reader of character, " said King. "She only saw thisgirl's yellow hair, hanging down her back, and she knew all about her atonce. "

"She had a velvet coat, " protested Marjorie, "and a short dress and longblack legs--"

"You wouldn't want her to wear a train, would you?" put in Kitty. 

"No, but her frock was awful short, and her hat was piled with feathers. "

"That will do, Marjorie, " said her father, very decidedly, now. "It isn'tnice to run on like that about some one you've never met. "

"But I'm just telling what I saw, Father. "

"But not in a kind spirit, my child. You're trying to make the littlegirl appear unattractive, or even ridiculous; and you must not do that. It isn't kind. "

"That's so, " said Marjorie, contritely; "it's horrid of me, I know, andI'll stop it. But she did look like a flyaway jib!"

"What is a flyaway jib?" said her father, with an air of one seekinginformation. 

"I haven't an idea, " said Mops, laughing; "but I know I've heard of itsomewhere. "

"And so you describe a girl whom you don't know, in words whose meaningyou don't know! Well, that's consistent, at any rate! Now, I _do_ knowsomething about this young lady. And, to begin with, I know her name. "

"Oh, what is it?" said Midge and Kitty together. 

"Well, Mops is such a reader of character, she ought to be able to guessher name. What do you think it is, Midget?"

Marjorie considered. She dearly loved to guess, even when she had no hintto go by. 

"I think, " she said, slowly, "it is probably Arabella or Araminta. "

"'Way off, " said her father; "you're no good at guessing. Kitty, what doyou say?"

"It ought to be Seraphina, " said Kitty, promptly. "She looks like a waxdoll. "

"Wrong again! King, want to guess?"

"'Course I do. I think her name is Flossy Flouncy. She looks so dressyand gay. "

"That's a good name, King, " said Marjorie, "and just suits her. I shallcall her that, what ever her real name is. I suppose it's Mary Jane, orsomething not a bit like her. What is it, Father?"

"Well, it's not a common name, exactly. It's Delight. "

"Delight!" cried King. "What a funny, name! I never heard of it before. "

"I think it's lovely, " declared Marjorie. "It's a beautiful name. Whydidn't you name me Delight, Mother?"

"You didn't say you wanted me to, " returned Mrs. Maynard, smiling, forMarjorie often wished for various names that pleased her better than herown for the moment. 

"Well, I think it's sweet, don't you, Kit?"

"Beautiful!" said Kitty, enthusiastically. 

"And she's not at all 'stuck-up, '" went on Mr. Maynard; "she's rathershy, and though she wants to get acquainted with you children, she'safraid you won't like her. I didn't tell Mr. Spencer that you had decidedalready not to like her. "

"I like her name, " said Marjorie, "but I don't like her because she livesin Gladys's house, and she isn't Gladys!"

"So that's where the shoe pinches!" said Mr. Maynard, laughing atMarjorie's troubled face. "A foolish resentment because strangers are inyour friend's home. Why, dearie, Mr. Fulton was most anxious to rent thehouse, and he'll be glad to have such good tenants. And, by the way, Midge, don't say anything more unpleasant about the little Spencer girl. You've said enough. "

"I won't, Father, " said Midget, with an honest glance from her big, darkeyes into his own, for truth to tell, she felt a little ashamed of herfoolish criticisms already. 

"Delight!" she said, musingly as she and Kitty were preparing for bedthat night. "Isn't it a dear name, Kit? What does it make you think of?"

"A princess, " said Kitty, whose imagination Was always in fine workingorder; "one who always wears light blue velvet robes, and eats off ofgold dishes. "

"Yes, " agreed Marjorie, falling in with the game, "and she has whitedoves fluttering about, and black slaves to bow before her. "

"No, not black slaves; they're for princesses named Ermengarde orFantasmagoria. " Kitty was not always particular about any authority fornames, if they sounded well. "A princess named Delight would havehandmaidens, --fair-haired ones, with soft trailing white robes. "

"Kit, you're a wonder, " said Marjorie, staring at her younger sister;"how do you know such things?"

"They come to me, " said Kitty, mystically. 

"Well, they sound all right, but I don't believe handmaidens ought towear trailing gowns. How could they handmaid?"

"That's so, " said Kitty, a little crestfallen. 

"Never mind; I spect they could. They could gracefully throw the trailsover their arms, as they glide along in their sandalled feet. "

"Yes, and strains of music came from concealed luters--"

"Huh! looters are burglars, and it's slang besides. "

"No, not that kind. Luters that play on lutes, I mean. And the PrincessDelight would sniff attar of rose, and fan herself with waving peacockfeathers. "

"A slave ought to do that. "

"Well, all right, let him. And then the Princess falls asleep 'neath hersilken coverlet, and lets her sister put out the lights, --like this!" andwith a jump, Kitty bounced into her own little bed, and pulled up thedown coverlet to her chin. 

Imitating the white-robed handmaidens, Marjorie swayed around to animprovised chant of her own, and putting out the electric lights withmuch dramatic elaboration, she finally swayed into her own bed, and afterthey had both chanted a choric good-night, they soon fell sleep. 

CHAPTER VIII

A VISIT TO CINDERELLA

One afternoon Marjorie sat by the fire reading. She was not speciallyinterested in her book, but Kitty had gone to see Dorothy Adams, and Kingwas off somewhere, so she had no one to play with. 

Presently Sarah entered. 

"There's somebody wants you on the telephone, Miss Marjorie, " she said, and Midget jumped up, wondering who it could be. 

"Hello, " she said, as she took the receiver. 

"Hello, " said a pleasant voice; "is this Marjorie Maynard?"

"Yes; who is this?"

"This is Cinderella. "

"Who!"

"Cinderella. My two stepsisters have gone to a ball, and my cruelstepmother has beaten me and starved me--"

"What are you talking about? Who is this, please?"

"Me. I'm Cinderella. And I'm so lonely and sad I thought perhaps you'dcome over to see me. "

A light began to dawn on Marjorie. 

"Oh, " she continued, "where do you live?"

"Across the street from your house. "

"Then you're Delight Spencer. "

"Yes, I am. Can't you come over and let's get acquainted?"

"Yes, I will. I'd like to. Shall I come now?"

"Yes, right away. Good-bye. "

"Good-bye. "

Marjorie hung up the receiver and after a hasty brush at her curls, and afew pinches at her hair ribbons, she flung on hat and coat and flewacross the street. 

If only this new girl should be a desirable chum!

That opening about Cinderella sounded hopeful, --she must know how toplay. 

Well, at any rate, Midget would soon know now. 

She rang the bell at Gladys's house, with a queer feeling, and as shewent in, and saw the familiar rooms and furniture, and no Gladys, shealmost started to run away again--

"Miss Delight wants you to come right up to her room, Miss, " said themaid who admitted her, and Marjorie followed her upstairs, glad to findthat at least the new girl didn't have Gladys's room for her own. Themaid indicated the room, and stood aside for Marjorie to enter, but atthe first glance Midget stood still on the threshold. 

In the first place the room was transformed. It had been the Fultons'playroom, and furnished rather plainly; but now it was so full of allsorts of things, that it looked like a bazaar. 

In a big armchair sat Delight. She had on a Japanese quilted kimona oflight blue silk, and little blue Turkish slippers. Her hair was puregolden, and was just a tangle of fluffy curls topped by a huge blue bow. 

But her face, Marjorie thought at once, was the most beautiful face shehad ever seen. Big blue eyes, a soft pink and white complexion, and redlips smiling over little white teeth, made Delight look like the pictureson Marjorie's fairy calendar. 

And yet, as Midget stood for a moment, looking at her, the pink fadedfrom her cheeks, and she rose from her chair, and said, stiffly:

"Sit down, won't you? I'm glad you came. "

Marjorie sat down, on the edge of a couch, and Delight sank back in herbig chair. 

She was so evidently overcome with a spasm of shyness that Midget wassorry for her, but somehow it made her feel shy, herself, and the twolittle girls sat there, looking at each other, without saying a word. 

At last, overcoming her embarrassment, Marjorie said, "Was it you whotelephoned?" A sudden wave of red flooded Delight's pale cheeks, and sheanswered:

"Yes, it was. I have a cold, and can't go out of my room, --and mother isout, --and--and I was awfully lonesome, so I played I was Cinderella. Andthen I just happened to think I'd telephone you--just for fun--"

"Have you a stepmother? Is she cruel to you?"

"Mercy, no! Mother is the dearest thing in the world, and she adoresme, --spoils me, in fact. She's gone out now to get me some things to makevalentines with. But I wish she was here. I thought it would be fun tosee, --to see you alone, --but you're so different from what I thought youwere. "

"Different, how?" said Midget, forgetting her own shyness in her interestin this strange girl. 

"Why, you're so--so big, and rosy, --and your eyes snap so. "

"You're afraid of me!" exclaimed Midget, laughing merrily. 

"I'm not when you laugh like that!" returned Delight, who was beginningto feel more at ease. 

"Well, I was afraid of you, too, at first. You looked so--so, breakable, you know. "

"Delicate?"

"Yes, fragile. Like those pretty spun sugar things. "

"I am delicate. At least, mother says I am. I hate to romp or run, andI'm afraid of people who do those things. "

"Well, I'm not afraid of anybody who can play she's Cinderella over atelephone! I love to run and play out-of-doors, but I love to play'pretend games' too. "

"So do I. But I have to play them all by myself. Except sometimes motherplays with me. "

"You can play with us. We all play pretend games. Kitty's best atit, --she's my sister. And King--Kingdon, my brother, is grand. "

"Take off your things, won't you? I ought to have asked you before. Ihaven't any sense. "

Marjorie jumped up and threw off her hat and coat, tossed them on thecouch, and then plumped herself into another big chair near Delight's. 

The children were indeed a contrast. 

Marjorie, large for her age, full of hearty, healthy life, andirrepressible gayety of spirit, bounced around like a big, good-naturedrubber ball. Delight, small, slender, and not very strong, moved alwaysgently and timidly. 

Marjorie, too, was dark-haired, dark-eyed, and rosy-cheeked; whileDelight was of lovely blonde type, and her pale blue robe suited her, asMidget's crimson cashmere set off her own vivid coloring. 

The ice fairly broken, the little girls forgot their shyness, andacquaintance progressed rapidly. 

"Have you always lived in New York?" asked Midget. 

"Yes; but I'm so delicate mother thinks this place will be better for me. Do you like it here?"

"Why, yes. But I've always lived here, you know. Are you going toschool?"

"No; I never go to school. It makes me nervous. I always have a governessat home. "

"Oh, how lovely! I'd give anything if I could study that way. Isn't itfun?"

"Oh, no; it's so lonely. I'd ever so much rather go to school and be in aclass. But I always faint in a schoolroom. "

"I don't faint, --I don't know how. I wish I did, I'd try it, and thenMiss Lawrence would have to send me home. Where are you in arithmetic?"

"Partial Payments; but I'm reviewing. Where are you?"

"Cube root, and I hate it. "

"So do I. How do you like my room?"

"It's splendid. But I can't take it all in at once. "

Marjorie jumped up and walked round the room, stopping to look at theaquarium, the blackboard, the gramophone, and many other modes ofentertainment which had been collected to give Delight pleasure. 

"Yes, I love my things. I have so many, and father is always bringing menew ones. That's to make up for my being an only child. I often begmother to adopt a sister for me. "

"I'll be your sister, " said Midget, in a sudden heartfelt burst ofsympathy for the lonely little girl. 

"Oh, will you?" she said, wistfully; "and come and live with me?"

"No, not that, " laughed Marjorie; "but we'll play we're sisters, and youcan call my brother and sisters yours too. "

"I'm glad I came to Rockwell, " said Delight, with happy eyes; "I thinkyou're splendid. "

"And I think you're lovely. I hope we'll get along. Do you squabble?"

"I don't think so, " replied Delight, doubtfully; "you see, I never had achance. "

"I don't believe you do. I hate it, myself; but lots of the girls thinkit's fun to get mad at each other, and stay mad a few weeks and then makeup. "

"How silly! You're not like that, are you?"

"No, I'm not. I had a friend who used to live in this very house, and wenever have been mad at each other in our lives. That's why I didn't sayI'd be your friend. It seems sort of--kind of--"

"Yes, I see, " said Delight, gently. "You're awfully loyal, aren't you?Well, I'd rather be your sister, anyway, --your play-sister. "

"I'll be your step-sister, " said Midget, remembering Cinderella. "Not thecross kind. "

"No, the pleasant kind. All right, we'll be step-sisters, and will youcome to see me often?"

"Yes, and you must come over to my house. "

"I will, when mother'll let me. She hates to have me go anywhere. "

"Do you know, " said Midget, in a spirit of contrition, "I thought youwere 'stuck-up. '"

Delight sighed a little. "Everybody thinks that, " she said, "just becauseI don't go to school, and so I don't get acquainted much. But I'm notstuck-up. "

"Indeed you're not, and I shall tell all the girls so. But after yourcold gets well, you can go out doors to play, can't you?"

"I don't know. Mother never lets me go out much, except with her. Oh, here comes mother now!"

Mrs. Spencer came into the room and smiled pleasantly at Midget. 

Delight introduced them, and Marjorie rose and curtseyed, then Mrs. Spencer said:

"I'm glad you came, my dear child. I meant to ask you soon, as I want youand Delight to be great friends. "

Mrs. Spencer was an attractive-looking lady and spoke cordially, butsomehow Marjorie didn't fancy her. 

There was no tangible reason, for she was charming and gracious, butMidget felt she was a nervous, fussy woman, and not calm and capable likeher own dear mother. 

"My mother is coming to call on you, " said Marjorie to her hostess. "Iheard her say so. She doesn't know I'm here, for she wasn't at home whenI came, but I know she'll be pleased when I tell her. "

"Did you come away without mother's permission? Naughty! Naughty!" saidMrs. Spencer, playfully shaking her finger at Marjorie. 

Midget's eyes opened wide. "Of course, I shouldn't have come, " she said, "if I hadn't known she would be willing. " She resented Mrs. Spencer'sreproof, as that lady knew nothing of the circumstances, and besides, Marjorie was always allowed to do as she chose afternoons, within certainwell-understood restrictions. 

But Mrs. Spencer had brought several interesting-looking parcels, and allelse was forgotten in the examination of their contents. 

They proved to contain gold and silver paper, lace paper, small pictures, cr�pe paper, cards, ribbons, paste, and lots of other things. 

Marjorie's eyes sparkled as she saw the lovely things tumbled out on alow table which Mrs. Spencer drew up in front of the girls. "Forvalentines?" she exclaimed, as she realized the possibilities. 

"Yes; will you help Delight to make them?"

"Indeed, I will, Mrs. Spencer; but not now. It's five o'clock, and I haveto go home at five. "

"Dear, dear, little girls that run away without mother's permissionoughtn't to be so particular about going home on time. "

Marjorie was puzzled. Mrs. Spencer didn't see the matter rightly, she wassure, and yet to explain it to her seemed like correcting a grown-uplady, which, of course, was impolite. So she only smiled, and said shemust go home, but she would be glad to come again. 

To her surprise, Delight began to cry, --not noisily, --but with quiet, steady weeping, that seemed to imply a determination to keep it up. 

Marjorie looked her amazement, which was not lessened when Mrs. Spencersaid, almost coldly:

"I should think she would cry, poor, dear sick child, when her littlefriend refuses to stay with her. "

"But, Mrs. Spencer, " said Midget, really distressed, now, "it is our rulealways to go home at five o'clock, unless mother has said we could staylater. So I have to go. "

"Very well, then, go on, " said Mrs. Spencer, a little pettishly; but shehelped Marjorie on with her coat, and patted her on the shoulder. 

"You're a good little girl, " she said, "and I suppose I'm selfish whereDelight is concerned. Will you come again to-morrow morning?"

"Oh, no, thank you; I have to go to school. "

"Yes, I suppose you do. Well, come to-morrow afternoon. "

"Yes, do, " said Delight, staying her tears, as they seemed to do no good. 

"I'll see about it, " said Midget, a little bewildered by these emotionalpeople. "I'd like to come. "

She said her good-byes, and flew across the street to her own home. 

She flung to the front door behind her, with what was _almost_ a bang, and then throwing her coat and hat on the hall rack, she burst into theliving-room, where Mrs. Maynard was sitting with Rosy Posy in her lap. 

"Marjorie, " her mother said, as she observed the impulsive child, "youare just a shade too noisy. Will you kindly go back to the hall, and tryto enter this room in a manner more becoming to a lady and a Maynard?"

"I will, indeed, Mother. And you're quite right; I was awful racketty. "

Marjorie returned to the hall, and then came in with graceful, mincingsteps, purposely overdoing the scene. She paused in front of her motherdropped an elaborate curtsey, and holding out her hand daintily, said:

"Good-evening, Mrs. Maynard; are you at home?"

"I am, you silly child, " said her mother, kissing her affectionately, "and overdone manners are much better than no manners at all. "

"Yes'm; and what do you think, Mother? I've been over to see DelightSpencer. "

"You have? Why, I meant to take you when I go to call. How did you happento go?"

So Marjorie told the story of the telephoning, adding: "And you know, Mother, you always used to let me go to Gladys's without asking you, so Iwent. Wasn't it all right?"

Marjorie looked so disturbed that Mrs. Maynard smiled, and said:

"Why, I suppose there's no harm done, --since the little girl asked you tocome--"

Marjorie looked greatly relieved. "Well, " she said, "Mrs. Spencer thoughtit was awful for me to go without asking you, --and then, --she wanted meto stay after five o'clock, and was madder 'n hops 'cause I didn't!"

"What a remarkable lady! But I can judge better if you tell me the wholestory. "

So Marjorie told all about the afternoon, and Mrs. Maynard was greatlyinterested. 

"Not exactly stuck-up, is she, Midget?" said King, who had come in duringthe recital. 

"No, " owned up Marjorie. "I was mistaken about that; and I think I'd likeher a lot, if she wasn't the crying kind. I do hate cry babies. "

"Ho! You wept oceans when Glad went away. "

"Yes, " retorted Marjorie, unabashed, "but that's very different. I don'tburst into weeps just because a next-door neighbor is going home!"

"'Deed you don't, old girl! You're a brick, and I was a meany to say whatI did. But perhaps Delight doesn't cry so much when she's well. "

"She's never well. I mean she's delicate and frail and always havingcolds and things. "

"Pooh, a nice sort of girl for you to play with! You're as hardy as anIndian. "

"I know it. We all are. "

"She probably stays in the house too much, " said Mrs. Maynard. "If youchildren can persuade her to go out of doors and romp with you, she'llsoon get stronger. "

"She says she hates to romp, " observed Marjorie. 

"Then I give her up!" cried King. "No stay-in-the-house girls for me. Say, what do you think, Mops! A straw-ride to-morrow afternoon! Mr. Adamsis going to take a big sleigh-load of us! Isn't that gay!"

"Fine!" cried Marjorie, the delicate Delight quite forgotten for themoment, "tell me all about it!"

CHAPTER IX

A STRAW-RIDE

"Then, mother, " said Marjorie, as she started for school next morning, "you'll call on Mrs. Spencer this morning and ask her to let Delight goon the straw-ride with us this afternoon. Will you, Mother, will you?"

"Yes, my Midget, I told you I would. But I doubt if she'll let the littlegirl go. "

"So do I, but you coax her. Good-bye, Mother. "

With a kiss and a squeeze, Marjorie was off, swinging a strap-full ofbooks till they all tumbled on the ground, and then picking them upagain. 

"I'll help you, Mops, " said King, who had followed her down the path. "What a tumble-bug you are!"

"Yes, I am. Say, King, do you believe Delight will go with us?"

"Don't know and don't care. She's a Flossy Flouncy, anyway. Too dressyand fiddle-de-dee for me!"

"Oh, you don't know her. I think she's going to be real nice. "

"All right. You can have her. Hi! there's Bunny Black; let's run. "

Run they did, and Marjorie flew over the ground quite as fast as Kingdondid. 

"Hey, Bunny, wait a minute!" So Bunny waited, and then all three trudgedon to school; Marjorie in the middle, while they talked over the fun ofthe coming sleigh-ride. 

Mr. Adams, who was the father of Dorothy, Kitty's chum, took the youngpeople on a straw-ride every winter, if the sleighing happened to begood just at the right time. 

The trip was always made out to Ash Grove, the pleasant farm home of Mr. Adams' aunt, and the old lady heartily welcomed the crowd of laughingchildren that invaded her quiet abode. 

After school, Marjorie and King and Kitty ran home to eat a heartyluncheon, and get ready for the great event. 

It was a perfect winter day; crisp, clear air, bright sunshine, finesleighing, and no wind. 

"Mothery, " called Marjorie, as she entered the house, "where are you?"

"Here I am, dear, in the library. Don't come a like a whirlwind. "

"No'm. I'll come in like a gentle summer breeze, " and Midget trippedlightly in, waving her skirts as she side-stepped, and greeting hermother with a low bow. 

"What about Delight?" she asked, at once, "can she go?"

"Yes, she's going, " answered Mrs. Maynard, "but I don't think her motherwants her to go very much. I went over there this morning, and aftermaking my call on the lady, I delivered the invitation for the daughter. Delight was most anxious to go, and coaxed her mother so hard, that Mrs. Spencer finally said yes, though I'm sure it was against her will. "

"Is Delight's cold well?"

"I think so, or her mother wouldn't let her go. She'll be more or less inyour charge, Marjorie, so do look after her, and don't be thoughtless andheedless. "

"How do you like Mrs. Spencer, Mother?"

"She's a very pleasant lady, my dear, and Delight is a beautiful child. "

"Yes, isn't she pretty! I'm so glad she's going with us. "

The straw-ride was of the real old-fashioned sort. 

A big box-sleigh, well filled with clean straw, and with plenty of warmrobes, made a cosy nest for a dozen laughing children. 

Except for Delight, the Maynards were the last ones to be picked up, andwhen the jingling sleigh-bells and the chorus of voices was heard, theyran out and were gaily greeted by the others. 

"Hop in, Kitty; here, I'll help you. In you go, Midget!" and genial Mr. Adams jumped the girls in, while King climbed over the side by himself. Then Mr. Adams went back to his seat beside the driver, and they crossedthe street to call for Delight. 

She was watching at the window, and came out as the sleigh drove up. 

She was so bundled up in wraps and scarfs and veils, that they couldscarcely see her face at all, but Marjorie introduced her to the others, and then Delight cuddled down in the straw close to Marjorie's side. 

"Isn't it strange?" she whispered. "I never saw a sleigh before withoutseats in it. Won't we fall out?"

"No, indeed!" answered King, heartily; "that's just what we won't do. Unless when we strike a bump. "

Just then they did "strike a bump, " and Delight was almost frightened atthe jounce she received. 

"Oh, " she exclaimed, "it--it takes your breath away, --but--but I thinkit's very nice. "

"Plucky girl!" said King, and as that was the highest compliment he couldpay a girl, Marjorie felt a thrill of pleasure that King was going tolike Delight after all. 

"I think you'd like it better without that awful thick veil over yourface, " King went on. "You can't see the snow through that, can you?"

"No, I can't, " said Delight, and she pulled off her veil, leaving herroseleaf face, with its crown of golden curls exposed to view. A hood ofwhite swansdown was tied under her chin with white ribbons, and hersmile, though shy, was very sweet. 

"That's better!" cried King, approvingly. "Now we can see what you say. Whoo-oo!!"

King blew a sudden blast on a tin horn which he drew from his pocket, andas all the boys in the sleigh, and some of the girls did the same, thenoise was deafening. 

Delight looked startled, and no wonder, but Marjorie reassured her bysaying:

"Don't let that scare you. It's the signal that we've crossed the citylimits. They always toot when we cross the line. I don't, 'cause I hateto blow a horn, and anyway, there's noise enough without me. "

"I should say there was!" said Delight, for the boys were still tootingnow and then, and there was gay laughter and shouting. 

"Haven't you ever been on a straw-ride before?" asked Ethel Frost, whosat the other side of Delight. 

"No, I never have. I've always lived in the city. "

"Stuck-up!" thought Ethel, but she said nothing. It was a peculiar butdeep-seated notion among the Rockwell children, that any one from thecity would look down on them and their simple pleasures, and theyfoolishly, but none the less strongly resented it. 

And so, poor Delight had unwittingly said the worst thing she could sayby way of her own introduction. 

"Do you like the city best?" said Harry Frost, who sat opposite thegirls. 

"I don't know yet, " said Delight, honestly; "it's all so different here. "

This was not helping matters, and Harry only said "Huh!" and turned totalk to King. 

Ethel, too, seemed uninterested in the city girl, and as Marjorie feltherself, in a way, responsible for the little stranger, she spoke up, loyally:

"Of course she can't tell yet, but of course she will like Rockwell assoon as she gets more used to it, and if she doesn't like the Rockwellboys and girls, it'll be their own fault. So there, now!"

"I do like them, " said Delight, with her shy little smile; "and I think Ican get used to those awful horns that they blow. "

"Good for you, Flossy Flouncy!" cried King, and the nickname so suitedthe pretty, dainty little girl, that it clung to her ever after. 

But though she tried, Delight couldn't seem to adopt the ways ofthe other children. They were a hearty, rollicking crowd, full ofgood-natured chaff, and boisterous nonsense, and Delight, who hadlived much alone, was bewildered at their noise and fun. 

But she slipped her hand from her pretty white muff, and tucked it intoMarjorie's, who gave her a squeeze that meant sympathy and encouragement. 

Midget was beginning to realize that the more she saw of Delight, thebetter she liked her. And the brave way in which the little girl met thecoolness and indifference that were shown her, roused Marjorie's sense ofjustice, and she at once began to stand up for her. 

And when Marjorie Maynard stood up for anybody, it meant a great deal tothe youthful population of Rockwell. For Midget was a general favorite, and since Gladys was gone there were several girls who would gladly havestepped into her place in Marjorie's affections. They had begged to shareher desk at school, but Midget didn't want any one to do that, so shestill sat alone each day. 

And now, she had this new girl under her wing, and she was beginning tomake it felt that she was Delight's champion, and the others could actaccordingly. 

"Do you like coasting?" said Ethel Frost, as they passed a fine hilldotted with boys and girls and sleds. 

"Yes, I love it!" replied Delight, her blue eyes sparkling as she watchedthe sleds fly downhill. 

"Why, Flossy Flouncy!" cried King; "you couldn't go coasting! I don'tbelieve you've ever tried it!"

"I never did but once, " said Delight, "and then the hill wasn't verygood, but it was fun. I'd love to go on a hill like that. "

"Would your mother let you?" said Marjorie doubtfully. 

"No, I don't believe she would. But I'd coax her till she had to. "

"That's right, " said King. "We'll go to-morrow, and then you'll see whatreal coasting is. "

It was not a very long ride to their destination, and at last the sleighturned in at a farm entrance and passed through a long winding avenue oftrees to the house. 

It was an old yellow farmhouse, big and capacious, and in the doorwaystood a smiling-faced little old lady awaiting them. 

This was Miss Adams, Dorothy's grand-aunt, and called Auntie Adams by allthe children who visited her. They all tumbled out of the sleigh, and ranlaughing into the house. 

Each was greeted by Miss Adams, and cries of "Where's Ponto?" and "Oh, here's Polly!" and "Hello, Tabby, " were heard. 

"This is Delight Spencer, " said Marjorie, as she presented her to MissAdams; "she's a new friend of mine, and Mr. Adams said I might bringher. "

"I'm very glad to see you, my dear, " said Miss Adams, kissing the wistfullittle face; "you are welcome to the old farm. "

"I've never seen a farmhouse before, " said Delight, as she glanced roundat the old mahogany furniture and brass candlesticks shining in thefirelight from the big fireplace; "and, oh, isn't it beautiful!"

Miss Adams was much pleased at this honest compliment to her old home, and she patted Delight's shoulder, as she said: "I'm sure we shall begreat friends, you and I. Run away now, with Marjorie, and lay off yourwraps in the north bedroom. "

The girls went up the short turning staircase, and into a quaintold-fashioned bedroom, with four-poster bed, chintz hangings, and fineold carved furniture. 

"Isn't it strange?" said Delight, looking about. "I suppose the ladieswho used to live here are dead and gone. I mean, the old ancestors ofMiss Adams. Let's play we're them, Marjorie. You be Priscilla and I'll beAbigail. "

"Not very pretty names, " said Midget, doubtfully. 

"Oh, yes, they are. I'll call you Prissy and you call me Abby. I'll beknitting, and you can be spinning on that spinning-wheel. "

The others had gone downstairs, but forgetting all about them, Delightsat herself stiffly in one of the high-backed old chairs, and knittedindustriously, with invisible yarn and only her own slender littlefingers for needles. 

Always ready for make-believe play Marjorie sat at thespinning-wheel, --on the wrong side, to be sure, but that didn't matter. 

"Are you going to the ball at Squire Harding's?" said Delight, in a primvoice. 

"Yes, that I am, " said Marjorie. "Half the county will be there. I shallwear my blue brocade, with collar of pearls. "

"How fair thou wilt look! I have but my crimson taffeta turned and madeover. But I have a new wimple. "

"What is a wimple, Delight?"

"I don't know exactly, but they wore them once. We're not sisters youknow, I'm just calling on you; I'm quite poor. Ah, Prissy, I would Icould achieve a new gown for the ball. My lady Calvert will be there, andshe is of the quality, forsooth. "

"Aye, Abby, but thou art more beautiful in thy ragged garb, than she inher stiff satins. "

"Sayest thou so? Thou dost but flatter. But among all my noble ancestors, the Adamses, there was never a woman aught but fair; or a man aught butbrave!"

Delight said this in a high, stilted voice, and as she sat primly in thestraight-backed old chair, knitting away at nothing, she presented afunny, attractive little picture. 

Miss Adams, who had come in search of the girls, paused at the door, andheard Delight's words. 

"You dear child!" she cried; "you dramatic small person! What are you twodoing?"

"We fell to playing, Miss Adams, " said Marjorie, "and we forgot to godownstairs. "

"We couldn't help it, " supplemented Delight. "This old room and dear oldfurniture just made me think I really was a Colonial Dame, so we playedwe were. "

"You're a treasure!" said Miss Adams, clasping Delight in her arms. "Asfor Midget, here, she's always been my treasure, too. I think some dayyou two little girls must come and visit me, all by yourselves, willyou?"

"Yes, indeed we will. "

"But now, come downstairs, and join the games down there. "

Down they went, and found the gay party playing Fox and Geese. 

Marjorie was an adaptable nature, and equally well pleased with any game, so she flung herself into the circle, and ran about as gaily as any one. But Delight shrank away from the frolic, and asked to be allowed to lookon. 

"No, indeed, Flossy Flouncy!" cried Harry Frost. "You must play ourgames, if you want us to like you. Come on, we won't hurt you. "

"Come on in, the water's fine!" called King, and Delight reluctantly tookthe place assigned her. 

She tried to do as the others did, but long practice had made them alertand skillful, while she was inexperienced at such sports. She becamebewildered at the quick changes of position, and as a result was sooncaught, and had to be the "Fox. "

Then the situation was hopeless, for it was impossible for Delight tocatch any of the quick-witted and quick-moving "geese, " who darted in andout, tapping her shoulder, when she should have tapped theirs, andteasing her for being slow. 

They were not intentionally rude, these gay-spirited young people, but agirl who couldn't play Fox and Geese seemed to them a justifiable buttfor ridicule. Determined to succeed, Delight ran from one to another, arriving just too late every time. The unfamiliar exercise wearied her, her cheeks glowed pink with mortification at her repeated failures, andher breath came quickly, but she was plucky and kept up her braveefforts. 

Kingdon saw this, and admired the spirit she showed. 

"Look here, Flossy Flouncy, " he said, not unkindly, "you've been Fox longenough; now I'll be Fox, and you sit down on the sofa and get rested. "

Delight looked at him gratefully, and without a word she went and sat onthe sofa and Miss Adams came and sat by her and put her arm round thetrembling child. Soon after this, the game was stopped because supper wasannounced. 

Delight sat between Marjorie and King, and though she ate but little sheenjoyed seeing the delicious country viands that were served. 

Little chicken pies, a whole one to each person; flaky biscuits, andgolden butter; home-made ice cream and many sorts of home-made cakes andjellies and preserves. The hungry children disposed of an enormousquantity of these pleasant things, but Miss Adams was not surprised attheir appetites, for this was an annual experience with her. 

After supper, they sang songs. Miss Adams sat at her old-fashioned squarepiano, and played some well-known songs in which they all joined. 

"I heard a song on a phonograph, the other day, " said Harry Frost; "itwas about a bonnie lassie. Do you know that, Miss Adams?"

"No, dear boy, I don't. I'm sorry. Can't you sing it without the piano?"

"No, I don't know it. But I'd like to hear it again. "

"I know it, " said Delight, timidly. "If you want me to, I'll sing it. "

She looked so shy and sweet, that there was nothing forward about heroffer, merely a desire to please. 

"Do, my dear, " said Miss Adams, giving her place to the child. 

Delight sat down at the piano, and striking a few chords, began: "I knowa lassie, a bonnie, bonnie lassie, " and sang it through in a sweet, childish voice. 

"That's it!" cried Harry, as she finished. "Jiminy! but you're a singer, all right. "

There was much applause, and requests for more songs, but Delight, overcome by attracting so much attention, turned bashful again andcouldn't be persuaded to sing any more. 

However, it was time to go home, so they all bundled into their wrapsagain, and clambered into the sleigh. 

Delight was quiet all the way home, and sat with her hand clasped closein Marjorie's. 

"Good-night, " she whispered, as she got out at her own house. "Good-night, Marjorie dear. I thank you for a pleasant time, but I don'tbelieve I want to go again. "

"Oh, yes, you will, " Marjorie whispered back. "Don't be so easilydiscouraged. "

CHAPTER X

MAKING VALENTINES

"Now, what do you think of a girl like that?" Marjorie exclaimed, as shefinished a description of Delight's behavior on the straw-ride. 

"I think she's a little lady, " said Mr. Maynard, with a twinkle ofamusement in his eye, "and she was pretty well frightened by the noisyfun of the Rockwell young people. "

"But, Father, " said King, "we didn't do anything wrong, or even rude, butof course, you can't go on a straw-ride and sit as still as if you werein church, can you?"

"No, " said Mrs. Maynard, taking up King's cause; "children are meant tobe noisy, especially on a sleighing party. But I wouldn't worry about thelittle Spencer girl. If she continues to live here, she can't help doingas you young Romans do, after a time. "

"Ho!" cried King. "Imagine Flossy Flouncy tumbling around like ourMidget. Hi, there, sister, you're it!"

King clapped Marjorie on the back and then ran around the dining-table, from which they had all just risen. 

"Kit's it!" cried Marjorie, clapping Kitty in turn. 

"Nope, I had my fingers crossed, " said Kitty, exhibiting her twisteddigits, and calmly walking out of the room, her arm through her father's. 

"All right, I'll catch you, King, " and Marjorie made a dive for him. 

He was wary, and just as she nearly touched him, he stooped and slidunder the table. After him went Midget, and of course, scrambled underjust as King dodged up on the other side. 

Out came Marjorie, flying after King, who raced up the front stairs anddown the back ones, landing in the kitchen with a wild shriek of, "Hideme, Ellen, she's after me!"

"Arrah, ye bletherin' childher!" cried Ellen, "ye're enough to set asaint crhazy wid yer rally poosin'! In there wid ye, now!"

The good-natured Irishwoman pushed King in a small cupboard, and stoodwith her back against the door. 

"What'll ye have, Miss Marjorie?" she said, as Midget rushed in half aminute later. 

"Where's King?" asked Marjorie, breathless and panting. 

"Masther King, is it? I expict he's sthudyin' his schoolbooks like thelittle gintleman he is. Shkip out, now, Miss Marjorie, dear, I must bedoin' me work. "

"All right, Ellen, go on and do it. Go on now, why don't you? Why don'tyou, Ellen? Do you have to stand against that door to keep it shut?"

"Yes, Miss, the, --the lock is broke, sure. "

"Oh, is it? Well, you go on to your work, and I'll hold the door shut fora while. "

"Och, I cuddent think of throublin' ye, Miss. Run on, now, happen yermother is wantin' ye. "

"Happen she isn't. Scoot, Ellen, and give me a chance at that door. "

Unable to resist Midget's wheedling glance, the big Irishwoman moved awayfrom the door, and Marjorie threw it open, and disclosed King, calmlysitting on a flour barrel. 

As he was fairly caught, the game was over, and the two, with intertwinedarms rejoined the family. 

"Good race?" said Mr. Maynard, looking at the exhausted runners. 

"Fine!" said Marjorie. "You see, Father, Delight has no brothers orsisters, so how could she be very racketty? She couldn't play tag withher mother or father, could she?"

"I think you'd play tag with the Pope of Rome, if you couldn't get anyone else. "

"That would be rather fun, " said Midget, laughing, "only I s'pose hisrobes and things would trip him up. But I do believe he'd like it. Idon't 'spect he has much fun, anyway. Does he?"

"Not of that sort, probably. But, Midget mine, there are other sorts offun beside tearing up and down stairs like a wild Indian. "

"Yes, and one sort is playing 'Authors'; come on, and have a game, willyou, Father?"

"I'll give you half an hour, " said Mr. Maynard, looking at his watch. "That's all I can spare for my wild Indians this evening. "

"Goody!" cried Midget, "half an hour is quite a lot. Come on, King andKit. Will you play, Mother?"

"Not now, I have some things I must attend to. I'll take Father's placewhen his half-hour is up. "

So they settled down to "Authors, " which was one of their favorite games, and of which they never tired. "Delight would like this, " said Marjorie, as she took a trick; "she's fond of quiet games. Mother, may I go overto-morrow afternoon and make valentines with her?"

"Yes, if you like, dearie, " replied Mrs. Maynard. 

"May I go, too?" said Kitty. 

"No, Kitty, I want you at home to-morrow. The seamstress will be cuttingyour new frock, and you must be here to try it on when she wants you. "

"All right, Mother. May I ask Dorothy here, then?"

"Yes, if you like. But you must stay in the house. "

"Yes'm, we will. "

The Maynards were obedient children, and though sometimes disappointed, never demurred at their parents' decrees. They had long ago learned thatsuch demurring would do no good, and that to obey pleasantly made thingspleasanter all round. 

After luncheon the next day, Marjorie got ready to go to spend theafternoon with Delight. 

She wore her new plaid dress trimmed with black velvet and gilt buttons, and as red was the prevailing color in the plaid, her dark curls weretied up with a big red bow. 

Very pretty she looked as she came for her mother's inspection. 

"Am I all right, Mother?"

"Yes, Midget mine; you look as spick and span as a nice little Queen ofSheba. Now don't slide down the banisters, or do anything hoydenish. Tryto behave more as Delight does. "

"Oh, I'm bound to be good over there. And making valentines is nice, quiet work. May I stay till six, Mother?"

"No, come home at half-past five. That's late enough for little Queens ofSheba to stay away from their mothers. "

"All right, I'll skip at five-thirty. Good-bye, Mothery dearie. "

With a kiss and a squeeze Marjorie was off, and Mrs. Maynard watched herfrom the window, until she disappeared through the Spencers' doorway. 

"I'm so glad to see you!" said Delight, as Marjorie came dancing into herroom. "Everything's all ready. You sit over there. "

So Midget sat down opposite her friend at a long, low table, on whichwere all the valentine materials laid out in readiness. 

"What beautiful things, " cried Midget; "but I don't know how to makevalentines. "

"I'll show you. It's awfully easy, and lots of fun. "

It was easy for Delight. Her deft little fingers pinched up bits oftissue paper into charming little rosebuds or forget-me-nots, and herdainty taste chose lovely color combinations. 

Marjorie's quick wits soon caught the idea, and though not quite sonimble-fingered as Delight, she soon showed an inventive originality thatdevised novel ideas. 

Sometimes they only took the round or square lace papers, and mountedthem on cards, and added little scrap pictures of doves or cupids orflowers. 

Then some of them were quite different. Delight cut a heart-shaped pieceof cardboard, and round the edge dabbled an irregular border of goldpaint. The inside she tinted pink all over, and on it wrote a lovinglittle verse in gilt letters. 

This, though simple, was such a pretty card, that Marjorie made one likeit, adding a garland of roses across it, which made it prettier still. 

Then they made pretty ones of three panel cards. To do this they took anoblong card, and cut it half through with a penknife in such a way thatit divided the card into three parts, the outside two shutting over themiddle one like window blinds over a window. 

The card would stand up like a screen, and they decorated each panel withposies and verses. 

"What are you going to do with all these valentines?" asked Midget, asthey were busily working away at them. 

"Half are yours, " said Delight, "and half are mine. We can each send themwherever we please. Of course I'll send most of mine to friends in NewYork; I haven't any friends here. "

"Indeed you have!" cried Midget. "Don't be silly. You've three Maynardfriends, to begin with; and all the boys and girls are your friends, onlyyou don't know them yet. I'll tell you what to do. You send valentines toall the Rockwell children, --I mean all our crowd, and they'll just love'em. Will you?"

"Why, yes, if you think I can when I don't know them very well. I caneasily make enough for them and my New York set too. "

"Yes, do; I'll help you, if I get mine done first. And anyway, it's 'mosttwo weeks before Valentine's day. "

"Oh, there's plenty of time. Look, isn't this a pretty one?"

Delight held up a card on which she had painted with her water colors aclouded blue sky effect. And on it, in a regular flight, she had pastedtiny birds that she found among the scrap pictures. 

"Lovely!" said Midget; "you ought to have a verse about birds on it. "

"I don't know any verse about birds, do you?"

"No; let's make one up. "

"Yes, we could do that. It ought to go some-thing like this: 'Theswallows tell that Spring is here, so flies my heart to you, my dear. '"

"Yes, that's nice and valentiny, --but it isn't Spring in February. "

"No, but that's poetic. Valentines have to be love-poems, and Spring is'most always in a love-poem. "

"Yes, I s'pose it is. I'd like to do some funny ones. I'm not much goodat sentimental poetry. I guess I'll do one for King. Here's a picture ofa bird carrying a ring in its beak. Ring rhymes with King, you know. "

"Oh, yes, make one of those limerick things: 'There was a young fellownamed King, --'"

"That's the kind I mean. Write that down while I paste. Then write: 'Whosent to his lady a ring. ' Now what next?"

"Something like this: 'He said, "Sweet Valentine, I pray you be mine. "And she answered him, "No such a thing!"'"

"Oh, that's a good one. Do send that to your brother. But it hasn't muchsense to it. "

"No, they never have. Now, I'll make one for Kit: 'There was a deargirlie named Kit, who was having a horrible fit. '"

"That isn't a bit valentiny. "

"No, I know it. This is a funny one. We'll make her another pretty one. 'When they said, "Are you better?" she wrote them a letter in which shereplied, "Not a bit!"'"

"I think that's sort of silly, " said Delight, looking at the rhymes shehad written at Midget's dictation. 

"Yes, I know it is, " returned Marjorie, cheerfully. "It's nonsense, andthat's 'most always silly. But Kit loves it, and so do I. We make upawful silly rhymes sometimes. You don't know Kitty very well yet, do you?She's only ten, but she plays pretend games lovely. Better'n I do. Shehas such gorgeous language. I don't know where she gets it. "

"It comes, " said Delight, with a far-away look in her eyes. "I have ittoo. You can't remember that you've ever heard it anywhere; the wordsjust come of themselves. "

"But you must have heard them, or read them, " said practical Midget. 

"Yes, I suppose so. But it doesn't seem like memory. It's just as if youhad always known them. Sometimes I pretend all to myself. And I'm aprincess. "

"I knew you would be! Kit said so too. She likes to be a princess. But Ilike to be a queen. You might as well be, you know, when you're justpretending. "

"Yes, you'd be a splendid queen. You're so big and strong. But I like tobe a princess, and 'most always I'm captive, in a tower, waiting forsomebody to rescue me. "

"Come on, let's play it now, " said Marjorie, jumping up. "I'm tired ofpasting things, and we can finish these some other day. You be a captiveprincess, and I'll be a brave knight coming to rescue you. "

But just then Mrs. Spencer appeared, carrying a tray on which wereglasses of milk, crackers, and dear little cakes, and the two girlsconcluded they would postpone their princess play till a little later. 

"I'm so bothered, " said Mrs. Spencer, in her tired, plaintive voice, asshe sat down with the children; "I cannot get good servants to stay withme here. I had no trouble in the city at all. Does your mother have goodservants, Marjorie?"

"Yes, Mrs. Spencer, I think so. They're the ones we've always had. "

"Well, mine wouldn't come with me from the city, so I had to get somehere. And the cook has a small child, and to-day he's ill, --really quiteill, --and the waitress is helping the cook, and so I had to bring up thistray myself. "

"Can't I help you in some way, Mrs. Spencer?" asked Marjorie, impulsively. It was her nature to be helpful, though it would never haveoccurred to Delight to make such an offer. 

"No, dear child; there's nothing you could do. But the doctor is downthere now, to see the little one, and I fear if the child is very ill, cook will have to leave, and what to do then, I don't know. "

"Perhaps the child is only a little sick, " said Midge, who wanted to becomforting, but did not know quite what to say to comfort a grown-uplady. 

"We'll soon know, after the doctor makes his decision, " said Mrs. Spencer. "Oh, that's Maggie crying. I'm afraid it's a bad case. "

Sure enough, sounds of loud sobbing could be heard from the direction ofthe kitchen, and Mrs. Spencer hurried away to learn what had happened. 

"It must be awful, " said Marjorie, "to be a cook and have your little boyill, and no time to attend to him, because you have to cook for otherpeople. "

Delight stared at her. 

"I think the awful part, " she said, "is to have your cook's baby get ill, so she can't cook your dinner. "

"Delight, that is selfish, and I don't think you ought to talk so. "

"I don't think it's selfish to want the services of your own servants. That's what you have them for, --to cook and work for you. They oughtn'tto let their little boys get sick. "

"I don't suppose they do it on purpose, " said Midge, half laughing andhalf serious; "but I'm sorry for your cook anyway. "

"_I'm_ sorry for _us_! But, gracious, Marjorie, hear her cry! The littleboy must be awfully sick!"

"Yes, indeed! She's just screaming! Shall we go down?"

"No, I'm sure mother wouldn't like us to. But I don't feel like playingprincess, do you?"

"No, not while she screams like that. There goes the doctor away. "

From the window, the girls saw the doctor hasten down the path, jump intohis electric runabout, and whiz rapidly away. 

They could still hear sobbing from the kitchen, and now and then themoans of the baby. 

At last, Mary, the waitress, came to take the tray away. 

"What is the matter with Maggie's little boy, Mary?" asked Delight. 

"He's sick, Miss Delight. "

"But why does Maggie scream so?"

"It's near crazy she is, fearin' he'll die. "

"Oh, " said Marjorie, "is he as bad as that! What's the matter with him, Mary?"

"He, --he has a cold, Miss. "

"But babies don't die of a cold! Is that all that ails him?"

"He has, --he has a fever, Miss. "

"A high fever, I s'pose. Rosy Posy had that when she had croup. Is itcroup, Mary?"

"No, Miss, --I don't know, Miss, oh, don't be askin' me!"

With a flurried gesture, Mary took the tray and left the room. 

"It's very queer, " said Delight, "they're making an awful fuss over asick baby. Here's the doctor back again, and another man with him. "

The two men came in quickly, and Mrs. Spencer met them at the front door. They held a rapid consultation, and then the doctor went to the telephoneand called up several different people to whom he talked one afteranother. 

And then Mrs. Spencer went to the telephone. 

"Oh, " said Delight, looking at Marjorie with startled eyes, "she'scalling up father in New York. It must be something awful!"

CHAPTER XI

MARJORIE CAPTIVE

It _was_ something awful. The doctor diagnosed the child's case asdiphtheria, and proceeded at once to take the steps ordered by the Boardof Health in such cases. 

Mrs. Spencer wanted to send the little one to the hospital, but DoctorMendel said that would not be allowed. So the house was to bedisinfected, and a strict quarantine maintained until all danger shouldbe past. 

"The woman and her child must be put in certain rooms, and not allowedto leave them, " said the doctor; "and no one in the house must go out ofit, and no one out of it may come in. "

"What!" cried Mrs. Spencer, in dismay, thinking of Marjorie. And Marjorieand Delight, unable to keep away any longer, came into the room just intime to hear the doctor's statement. 

"What's the matter, mother?" cried Delight. "Tell me about it! IsMaggie's little boy going away?"

"You tell her, Doctor Mendel, " said Mrs. Spencer; I can't. "

"Why, Marjorie Maynard?" exclaimed the doctor, "are you here? Well, thisis a pretty kettle of fish!"

Although the Spencers had never seen Doctor Mendel before, he was theMaynards' family physician, and he realized at once the great misfortuneof Marjorie's presence in the infected house. 

"Yes, I'm here, " said Midget; "can't I go home?"

"No, child, " said Doctor Mendel, gravely; "you cannot leave this houseuntil all danger of infection is over. That will be two weeks at least, and perhaps more. "

"And can't Mr. Spencer come home?" asked Mrs. Spencer. 

"No; unless he stays here after he comes in. He can not go back and forthto New York every day. "

Mrs. Spencer looked utterly bewildered. Accustomed to depend upon herhusband in any emergency, she felt quite unable to meet this situation. 

"And there is danger of these two girls having diphtheria?" she said, ina scared voice, as if anxious to know the worst at once. 

"There is grave danger, Mrs. Spencer, for all in the house. But we willhope by careful treatment to avoid that. The quarantine, however, isimperative. You must not let your servants or your family go out into thestreet, nor must you allow any one except myself to come in. "

"Oh, Doctor Mendel, " cried Marjorie, "how can I see Mother?"

"You can't see her. I'm sorry, Marjorie, but you simply can not go home, nor can she come here. "

"And I'll have to have diphtheria, and die, without seeing her at all!"

"Tut, tut! You're not going to have diphtheria, I hope. These precautionsare necessary, because of the law, but you're by no means sure to takethe disease. "

"Delight will, " said Mrs. Spencer, in a hopeless tone. "She's sodelicate, and so subject to throat affections. Oh, how can I stand allthis without any one to help me? Can't I have a trained nurse?"

Doctor Mendel almost laughed at the lady's request. 

"Of course you may, as soon as there's a patient for her to take care of. But you surely don't want one when there's no illness in this part of thehouse. "

"Why, so there isn't!" said Mrs. Spencer, looking greatly relieved. "I'mso bewildered I felt that these two children were already down withdiphtheria. "

"It's a very trying situation, " went on Doctor Mendel, looking kindly atMrs. Spencer. "For I do not see how your husband can come home, if hewants to continue at his business. And surely, there's no use of hiscoming home, so long as there's no illness in your immediate family. Hewould better stay in New York. "

"Oh, not in New York, " cried Mrs. Spencer. "He can come to Rockwell everynight, and stay at the hotel or some place. "

"Yes, that would be better; then you can telephone often. "

"And I can telephone to Mother!" said Midget, who was beginning to see abrighter side. 

"Yes, of course, " agreed the doctor. "I'll go there, and tell her allabout it. "

"_Won't_ she be surprised!"

"Yes, I fancy she will! Do you want her to send you some clothes?"

"Why, yes; I s'pose so. I never thought of that! Oh, I'd rather go home!"

The bright side suddenly faded, and Midget's curly head went down in herarm, and she shook with sobs. A vision of home, and the dear familyaround the dinner-table, while she was exiled in a strange house, was toomuch for her. 

"Now, Marjorie, " said the doctor, "you must bear this bravely. It ishard, I know, but Mrs. Spencer is by far the greatest sufferer. Here sheis, with two children to look after, and her husband shut out from hishome, and her servants in a state of unreasoning terror. I think you twogirls should brace up, and help Mrs. Spencer all you can. "

"I think so, t-too, " said Midget, in a voice still choking with tears, and then Delight began to cry. 

Her crying wasn't a sudden outburst like Marjorie's, but a permanent sortof affair, which she pursued diligently and without cessation. 

Mrs. Spencer paid little attention to the two weeping children, for thepoor lady had other responsibilities that required her attention. 

"What about Maggie, Doctor?" she asked. 

"She must stay here, of course. And, as she can't go to a hospital, shewill probably prefer to stay here. Your waitress may desert you, but Iwill tell her if she goes, it is in defiance of the law, and she will bepunished. I trust, Mrs. Spencer, that there will be no more illness here, and the worst will be the inconvenience of this quarantine. At any ratewe will look at it that way, so long as there are no signs of infection. Now, I will go over to the Maynards and explain matters to them, and Iwill meet Mr. Spencer at the train, and he will telephone you at once. Meantime, I will myself superintend the disinfection of this house. Andremember, while there is danger for the two little girls, I do not thinkit probable that they will be affected. "

"I hope not, " said Mrs. Spencer, sighing. "And here's another thing, Doctor. I expect a governess for Delight, a Miss Hart, who is to comewith Mr. Spencer on the train this evening. She should be warned. "

"Yes, indeed. I'll meet them at the train, and attend to that for you. Probably she'll remain at the hotel over night, and go back to the cityto-morrow. "

"She could go to our house to stay, " said Marjorie. She was still crying, but she loved to make plans. "Then she could telephone the lessons overto Delight, and I could learn a little too. Oh, I won't have to go toschool for two weeks!"

This was a consolation, and the happy thought entirely stopped Marjorie'stears. 

Not so Delight. She cried on, softly, but steadily, until Midget lookedat her with real curiosity. 

"What do you cry that way for, Delight?" she said. "It doesn't do anygood. "

Delight looked at her, but wept industriously on. 

"Oh, come, " said Midget, "let's look for the bright side. Let's pretendI've come to visit you for two weeks, and let's have some fun out of thisthing. "

"How can you talk so?" said Delight, through her tears. "We may both bedead in two weeks. "

"Nonsense!" cried Doctor Mendel; "no more of that sort of talk! If you'reso sure of having diphtheria, I'll send you to the hospital at once. "

Delight did not know the doctor as well as Marjorie did, and thissuggestion frightened her. 

She tried to stop crying, and smile, and she succeeded fairly well. 

"That's better, " said the doctor. "Now, I'm going across the street. Marjorie, what message do you want to send your mother? Of course she'llsend over some clothes and things. You can have anything you want sent, but don't have needless things, for they must all be disinfected later, and it might harm your best clothes. "

"Oh, I shan't want my best clothes, since we can't have company orparties, " said Midget, interested now, in spite of herself. "Tell Motherto send my night things; and my red cashmere for to-morrow morning, andmy other red hair ribbons, and my pink kimono, and my worsted slippers, and that book on my bureau, the one with the leaf turned down, and somehandkerchiefs, and--"

"There, there, child, I can't remember those things, and your mother willknow, anyway, --except about the book with the leaf turned down, --I'lltell her that. And you can telephone her, you know. "

"Oh, so I can! That will be almost like seeing her. Can't I telephonenow?"

"No, I'd rather tell her about it myself. Then I'll tell her to call youup, and you can give her your list of hair ribbons and jimcracks. "

"All right then. Hurry up, Doctor, so I can talk to her soon. "

Doctor Mendel went away, and Marjorie and Delight sat and looked at eachother. Mrs. Spencer had gone to the kitchen to arrange for the comfort ofthe distressed mother, and the little girls were trying to realize whathad happened. 

"I'm glad you're here, " said Delight, "for I'd be terribly lonely withoutyou, in all this trouble. "

Midget was silent. She couldn't honestly say she was glad she was there, and yet to say she was sorry seemed unkind. 

"Well, as long as I am here, " she said at last, "I'm glad you're glad. It's all so strange! To be here staying in Gladys's house, and Gladys nothere, and I can't get away even if I want to, --why, I can't seem to getused to it. "

"It's awful!" said Mrs. Spencer, coming in from the kitchen. "I hope yourmother won't blame me, Marjorie; I'm sure I couldn't help it. "

"Of course she won't blame you, Mrs. Spencer. She'll only be sorry foryou. "

"But she'll be so worried about you. "

"Yes'm; I s'pose she will. But maybe, if I do take it, it will be a lightcase. "

"Oh, don't talk of light cases! I hope you won't have it at all, --eitherof you. "

After what seemed to Marjorie a long time of waiting, her mother calledher up on the telephone. 

"My dear little girl, " said Mrs. Maynard, "how shall I get along withoutyou for two weeks?"

"Oh, Mother, " said Marjorie, "you have the others, but I haven't anybody!How shall I get along without you?"

Marjorie's voice was trembling, and though Mrs. Maynard was heart-brokenshe forced herself to be cheerful for Midget's sake. 

"Well, dearie, " she said, "we must make the best of it. I'll telephoneyou three times a day, --or at least, some of us will, --and I'll write youletters. "

"Oh, will you, Mother? That will be lovely!"

"Yes, I'll write you every day. You can receive letters although youcan't send any. Now, I want you to be my own brave little daughter, andnot only try to be cheerful and pleasant yourself, but cheer up Mrs. Spencer and Delight. "

"Yes, Mother, I will try. I feel better already, since I've heard yourvoice. "

"Of course you do. And Father will talk to you when he comes home, andto-morrow Kitty and King can talk, and you'll almost feel as if you wereat home. "

"Yes, --but oh, Mother, it's awful, isn't it?"

"No, it isn't awful at all, unless you get ill But we won't cross thatbridge until we come to it. Now, I'll send over a suitcase to-night, andthen I can send more things to-morrow. "

"Yes, Mother. And put in your picture, won't you? The one on mymantelpiece, I mean. Then I'll have it to kiss good-night to. "

Mrs. Maynard's voice choked a little, but she said:

"Yes, dear, I will. Good-bye for now; we mustn't monopolize Mrs. Spencer's telephone. "

"Good-bye, " said Midget, reluctantly, and hung up the receiver, feelingthat now she was indeed an exile from her home. But not long after, shewas called to the telephone again, and her father's cheery voice said:

"Why, Marjorie Midget Mopsy Maynard! What's this I hear about yourdeserting your home and family?"

"Oh, Father dear, isn't it terrible!"

"Why, I don't know as it is. You'll have a fine visit with your littlefriend, and you won't have to go to school, and I should think you'd havea fine time! But some people are never satisfied!"

"Now, don't tease, Father. You know I'll just go crazy with homesicknessto see you all again!"

"Oh, well, if you really do go crazy, I'll put you in a nice prettylittle lunatic asylum that I know of. But before your mind is entirelygone, I want you to have a good time with Delight, and I'll help all Ican. "

"I don't see how you can help much, if I can't see you. "

"You don't, eh? Well, you'll find out, later on. But just now, I'm goingto give you three rules, and I want you to obey them. Will you?"

"Of course I will, Father. What are they?"

"First, never think for a moment that you're going to catch that sorethroat that the cook's little boy has. I don't think you are, and I don'twant to think so. Promise?"

"Yes, I promise. What next?"

"Next; never think that you're to stay over there two weeks. Never usethe words at all. Just think each day, that you're merely staying thatone night, and that you're just staying for fun. See?"

"Yes; I'll promise, but it won't be easy. "

"Make it easy then. I'll help you. And third, don't feel sorry foryourself. "

"Oh, Father, I do!"

"Well, don't! If you want to feel sorry for somebody, choose some oneelse, a poor Hottentot, or a lame kangaroo, or even your old father. But, mind, it's a rule, you're not to feel sorry for Marjorie Maynard. "

"That's a funny rule. But I'll try to mind it. "

"That's my own dear daughter. Now, to begin. As you're to stay withDelight to-night, we're sending over your night things. Go to bed earlyand sleep well, so you can wake bright and fresh and have fun playing allday to-morrow. "

All this sounded so gay and pleasant that Marjorie was really very muchcheered up, and replied gaily:

"All right, Daddy; I'll do just as you say. And will you call me upto-morrow morning before you go to New York?"

"Yes, of course I will. Now, good-night, --just the same as a good-nightat home. "

"Good-night, Father, " and Midget hung up the receiver again. 

By this time Delight had stopped her crying, and Mrs. Spencer had becomea little more resigned to the unpleasant state of things. The servantshad consented to stay, for the present, and their decision was more dueto Doctor Mendel's hints about the law, than their own loyalty to Mrs. Spencer. 

Then Doctor Mendel had met Mr. Spencer at the railroad station, and hadexplained affairs to him. 

Although it seemed very hard it was thought advisable by all interested, that Mr. Spencer should not go to his home at all. His business, whichwas large and important, required his presence every day, and to take twoweeks away from it just at that time would be disastrous in effect. 

Mr. Maynard, who was present at the interview, invited Mr. Spencer tostay at his home until the quarantine should be raised, and this offer ofhospitality was gratefully accepted. 

"It seems only fair, " said Mr. Maynard, "that we should entertain you, asyou have our Marjorie as a guest at your house. "

"An unwilling guest, I fear, " said Mr. Spencer, with a sad smile. 

"But ready to make the best of it, as we all must be, " rejoined Mr. Maynard. 

CHAPTER XII

MISS HART HELPS

Miss Hart, Delight's new governess, who came out from New York with Mr. Spencer, listened to the doctor's story with a grave face. 

"And I think, Miss Hart, " said Doctor Mendel, in conclusion, "that youwould better stay in Rockwell over night, and return to the citytomorrow. "

"I _don't_ think so!" said Miss Hart, with such emphasis that the threemen looked at her in surprise. 

"If you will go home with me, " said Mr. Maynard, "Mrs. Maynard will giveyou a warm welcome, and then you can decide to-morrow on your furtherplans. "

"No, " said Miss Hart, who seemed to be a young woman of great decision ofcharacter, "I shall go straight to Mrs. Spencer's. I am engaged to gothere to-night, and I want to go. I am not at all afraid of thediphtheria, and as Delight is perfectly well, she can begin her lessonsjust as we planned to do. This will keep her interested and prevent herfrom worrying as much as if she were idle. And then, if anything shouldhappen, I will be there to assist Mrs. Spencer. "

"Thank you, Miss Hart, " said Mr. Spencer, shaking her hand. "You are anoble woman, and I shall be so glad to have you there with my wife. I'vebeen trying to think how I could get a companion for her, but none of hercity friends would enter the house, nor could they be expected to. And, of course, no Rockwell neighbors can go in. But you will be a tower ofstrength, and I shall be immensely relieved to have you there. "

Doctor Mendel was pleased too, at the turn affairs had taken, for hefeared Mrs. Spencer would break down under the nervous strain, if she hadto bear her trouble alone. 

So when Mr. Maynard took Mr. Spencer to his own home, Doctor Mendel tookMiss Hart to Mrs. Spencer's. 

"I've brought you another visitor, " he cried, cheerily, as he entered thequarantined house. 

"Why, Doctor, " said Mrs. Spencer, "you said nobody could come in!"

"No, not if they're to go out again. But Miss Hart has come to stay. "

"Oh, how splendid!" cried Mrs. Spencer, "are you really willing to doso?"

"Yes, indeed, " answered Miss Hart. "And it looks to me as if I shouldhave two pupils instead of one. " She looked kindly at Marjorie, whosmiled in return, though she did not at all feel sure that she wantedlessons added to her other troubles. 

But Miss Hart seemed to ignore the fact that there were any troubles foranybody. 

She talked pleasantly, even gaily, with Mrs. Spencer. She chatted merrilywith Delight and Marjorie; and she even went out and spoke very kindly tothe afflicted Maggie. And it was partly due to her suggestions that Mary, who was acting as cook, added some special dainties to the menu, and sentup an unusually good dinner. The party that gathered round the table wasnot a sad one, but this was due to the combined efforts of Miss Hart andMarjorie. 

Midget remembered her father's rules, and pretended she was just stayingwith the Spencers for one night. She was so fond of "pretending, " thatthis part came easy. Then she had put out of her mind the idea that shemight have the diphtheria, and moreover, she was trying really hard notto be sorry for herself. In consequence of all this, she was gay andmerry, and she was helped to be so by Miss Hart, who was good cheeritself. 

The new governess was a pretty little woman, with smooth dark hair, andsnapping black eyes, that seemed to read people's innermost thoughts. Although not entirely unacquainted with the Spencers, she had neverbefore lived with them, but had been governess in the family of a friendof theirs. She was anxious for this new position, and Mrs. Spencer, whohad been pleased to have her come, was doubly glad to have her in thisemergency. 

"We won't begin to-morrow, " said Miss Hart, when the subject of lessonswas broached, "but I think we'll begin next day. We'll spend to-morrowgetting acquainted, and learning to like each other. You'll join theclass, won't you, Marjorie?"

"Yes, I think I'd like study that way, " said Midge; "but I don't likeschool. "

"I'll guarantee you'll like study in our class, " said Miss Hart, smiling;"you'll be sorry when school hours are over. "

Midge could hardly think this, but of one thing she was certain, thatMiss Hart would be a pleasant teacher. 

Soon after dinner, Marjorie's suitcase arrived. 

James brought it over, and set it on the front porch and rang the bell. Then he went away before the door was opened, as he had been instructedto do. 

When Marjorie opened the bag she found a note from each of the family, and they were all written in verse. 

She read them aloud to the Spencer household and soon they were alllaughing at the nonsense rhymes. 

Her mother had written:

"Midget, Midget, Don't be in a fidget. Don't be sad and tearful, Just be gay and cheerful;Don't be sadly sighing, For the days are flying, And some day or otherYou'll come home toMOTHER. "

"Why, that's as good as a valentine, " said Miss Hart, as Midget finishedreading the lines. 

"So it is!" said Marjorie, smiling; "I'm going to pretend they're allvalentines. Here's father's. "

"Marjorie, Midget Mopsy, The world is tipsy-topsy! When I am here And you are thereI feel all wipsy-wopsy!But soon you will be home once more, And all will be as it was before;So make the most of your fortnight's stay, For I cannot spare you another day!"

By this time Delight's spirits had risen to such an extent that sheexclaimed:

"I think it's splendid to have Marjorie here for two weeks!"

"We'll make a picnic of it, " said Miss Hart. "You girls won't often havetwo weeks together, so we must cram all the pleasure into it we can. "

Cramming pleasure into this dreadful time was a new idea to Delight, butshe was willing to agree to it, and Marjorie said:

"I think we can be happy if we try. But we have to forget the bad partsand only remember the good. "

"That's it, " said Miss Hart. "Now read us another of your letters. I'msure they're good parts. "

"This one is from King, --that's Kingdon, my brother, " explained Marjorie, as she took up the next note. 

"Mops is a captive Princess now, She can't get out of prison;But when it's time to let her go, Oh, won't she come home whizzin'!This poetry isn't very good, But it's the best that I can sing, I would do better if I could, And I'm your loving brotherKING. "

"What a jolly boy!" said Miss Hart, "I'd like to know him. "

"You will, " said Midget, "after our two weeks' picnic is over. " Shesmiled at Miss Hart as she said this, accepting her idea of making apicnic of their enforced imprisonment. 

"Now, here's Kitty's, " she went on. "Kitty's not a very good poet, butshe always wants to do what the rest do. "

"Marjorie Maynard nice and sweet, Has to stay across the street. Fourteen days and fourteen nights, Visiting her friend Delight. Marjorie Maynard, nice and pretty, Come home soon to sisterKITTY. "

"Why, I think that's fine, " said Miss Hart. "Your family are certainlydevoted to you. "

"Yes, they are, " said Midget. "There's another, --Rosy Posy, --but she'sonly five. She can't write poetry. "

"Can you?" asked Miss Hart. 

"Yes, I can make as good verses as Kit; but not as good as King orfather. We always make verses for each other on birthdays, so we get lotsof practise. And we made some valentine verses this afternoon, didn't we, Delight?"

"Yes, that is, you did. But, oh, Marjorie, we can't send thosevalentines! Nothing like that can go out of the house!"

"Oh, pshaw, I don't believe they could do any harm. "

"Well, Doctor Mendel said we mustn't send a letter of any sort, and avalentine is just the same, you know. "

"What do you think, Miss Hart?" asked Marjorie. 

"I'm afraid you can't send them, my dear. But we'll ask the doctor. Perhaps, if they're disinfected--"

"Oh, horrors!" cried Midget; "a valentine disinfected! Of all things!Why, it would smell of that horrid sulphur stuff instead of a sweetviolet scent! Nobody would want that sort of a valentine. "

"No, they wouldn't, " agreed Delight. "Oh, dear, it's too bad!"

"Never mind, Delight, " said Marjorie. "We can send valentines to eachother, and to Miss Hart, and to your mother. Oh, yes, and to Maggie andMary. I guess that's about all. But everybody can send them to us! Thatwill be lots of fun! It seems selfish, doesn't it, to get lots ofvalentines and not send any? But it isn't selfish, because we can't helpit. "

"I can send to my friends in New York, " said Delight, thoughtfully, "byletting father get them and send them. I can telephone him a list, youknow. It isn't as much fun as if I picked them out myself, but I don'twant the girls to think I've forgotten them. "

"If they know about the quarantine, they won't open the valentines, "suggested Marjorie; "they'll think they came from this house, and they'llbe frightened. "

"That's so, " agreed Delight; "unless they look at the postmark and it'sNew York. "

"Well, then, if they don't know your father's writing, they'll never knowthey came from you anyway. "

"No, they won't. But then people never are supposed to know who sends avalentine. "

"Then what's the good of sending any?"

"Oh, it always comes out afterward. I hardly ever get any that I don'tfind out who they're from, sooner or later. "

"Nor I either. Well, we'll do the best we can. "

Marjorie sighed a little, for Valentine Day was always a gay season inthe Maynard home, but she had promised not to be sorry for herself, soshe put the thought away from her mind. 

As Mrs. Spencer's room opened into Delight's, she decided to give that toMarjorie, and take the guest room herself. She felt sorry for the child, held there by an unfortunate accident, and determined to do all she couldto make her stay pleasant. And she thought, too, it would please Delightto have Marjorie in the room next her own. So when the two girls wentupstairs that night, they were greatly pleased to find themselves incommunicating rooms. 

"We can pretend, while we're getting ready for bed, " said Delight, andsoon, in her little kimono, and bedroom slippers, she stalked intoMidget's room and said, with despairing gestures:

"Fellow princess, our doom hath befell. We are belocked in a prison grim, and I fear me, nevermore will we be liberated. "

"Say not so, Monongahela, " answered Marjorie, clasping her hands. "Methinks ere morning dawns, we may yet be free. "

"Nay, oh, nay! the terrible jailer, the Baron Mendel, he hast decreedthat we stay be jailed for two years. "

"Two years!" gasped Midget, falling in a pretended swoon. "Ere that timepasses, I shall be but a giggling maniac. "

"Gibbering, you mean. Aye, so shall I. "

"Well, stop your gibbering for to-night, " said Mrs. Spencer, who came in, laughing; "you can gibber to-morrow, if you like, but now you must go tobed. Fly, fair princess, with golden hair!"

Delight flew, and Mrs. Spencer tucked Marjorie up in bed, in an effort tomake the child feel at home. 

There wasn't the least resemblance between Mrs. Spencer's ways, and thoseof her own mother, but Marjorie was appreciative of her hostess's kindintent, and said good-night to Mrs. Spencer very lovingly. At first, there was a strong inclination to cry a little, but remembering she mustnot be sorry for herself, Marjorie smiled instead, and in a few momentsshe was smiling in her sleep. Next morning, she put on the morning dressthat had come over in the suitcase, and went downstairs with Delight. 

"It's just like having a sister, " said Delight. "I do believe, Marjorie, I'm glad all this happened. Of course, I don't mean I'm glad Maggie'sbaby is so sick, but I'm glad you're staying here. "

"I can't quite say that, Delight, but as I am here, I'm not going to fussabout it. There's the telephone! perhaps it's Father!"

It was Mr. Maynard, and his cheery good-morning did Marjorie's heartgood. 

"All serene on the Rappahannock?" he asked. 

"All serene!" replied Marjorie. "The verses were fine! I was so glad toget them. "

"Did you sleep well? Have you a good appetite for breakfast? Did youremember my rules? May I send you a small gift to-day? Do you think itwill rain? Don't you want your kitten sent over?"

"Wait, --wait a minute, " cried Marjorie. "Your questions come so fast Ican't answer them, --but, yes, I would like a small gift to-day. "

"Aha! I thought you'd pick out that question of all the bunch to answer. Well, you'll get it when I return from the great city. Meantime, be goodand you'll be happy, and I'm proud of you, my little girl. "

"Proud of me! Why?"

"Because I can tell by your voice that you're cheerful and pleasant, andthat's all I ask of you. Good-bye, Mopsy, I must go for my train. Theothers will talk to you later on. "

"Good-bye, Father, and I would like the kitten sent over. "

Marjorie left the telephone with such a happy face that Miss Hart, whohad just come downstairs, said:

"I'm sure you had pleasant messages from home. "

"Yes, indeed, " said Midget. "It was Father. He's always so merry andjolly. "

"And you inherit those traits. I like fun, too. I think we shall be greatfriends. "

"I think so too, " agreed Midget, and then they all went to breakfast. 

The day started auspiciously enough, but after Midge had telephoned tothe rest of her family there seemed to be nothing to do. Delight had aheadache, brought on probably by the excitement of the day before, andshe didn't feel like playing princess. 

There was no use finishing the valentines, for Doctor Mendel said theymust not send them to anybody. 

Miss Hart was in her own room, and the morning dragged. 

Marjorie almost wished she could go to school, and she certainly wishedshe could go out to play. But the doctor's orders were strict againsttheir leaving the house, so she sat down in the library to read astory-book. Delight wandered in. 

"I think you might entertain me, " she said; "my head aches awfully. "

"Shall I read to you?" asked Midget. She had had little experience withheadaches, and didn't quite know what to do for them. 

"Yes, read a fairy story. "

So Midget good-naturedly laid aside her own book, and read aloud toDelight until her throat was tired. 

"Go on, " said Delight, as she paused. 

"I can't, " said Midget, "for it hurts my throat. "

"Oh, pshaw, what a fuss you are! I think you might read; it's the onlything that makes me forget my headache. "

So Marjorie began again, and read until Delight fell asleep. 

"I'm glad I kept on, " thought Midget to herself; "though it did make mythroat all scratchy. But I mustn't be sorry for myself, so I'm glad I wassorry for Delight. Maybe a little nap will make her head better. "

CHAPTER XIII

GOLDFISH AND KITTENS

Leaving Delight asleep, Marjorie wandered out to the dining-room, whereMrs. Spencer was assisting the waitress in her duties. As Maggie was notallowed to leave the sick-room, Mary, the waitress, did the cooking, andthis left many smaller offices to be performed by Mrs. Spencer. 

"Can't I help you?" asked Marjorie, who was at her wits' end foroccupation. 

Usually, she could entertain herself for any length of time, but thestrangeness of her surroundings, and a general feeling of homesicknessmade books or games unattractive. 

"Why, no, Marjorie; little girls can't help, " said Mrs. Spencer, whonever thought of calling on Delight for assistance. 

"Oh, yes, I can; truly I can do lots of things. Mayn't I put away thatsilver?"

"No; you don't know where it belongs. But if want to help me, can't youattend to Delight's canary? He hasn't had his bath, and Mary is too busyto do it. Do you know how?"

"Oh, yes; I often give our bird his bath, and clean his cage, and givehim fresh seed and water. Where shall I find the birdseed?"

"In the small cupboard in Delight's playroom, the room where the bird is, you know. "

"Yes'm, I know. "

Marjorie ran upstairs, interested in this work, and taking the cage fromits hook, set it on the table. She found the little bathtub and filled itwith water of just the right warmth, and taking the upper part of thecage from its base, set it over the tub, which she had carefully placedon a large newspaper. 

"There, " she said, "spatter away as much as you like, while I cut a niceround paper carpet for your cage. I don't know your name, but I shallcall you Buttercup, because you're so yellow. "

The bird cocked his black eye at her, and seemed to approve of his newattendant, for he hopped into his bath, and splashed the watervigorously. 

"You're a nice little Buttercup, " went on Midget; "some bad littlebirdies won't jump in and bathe. There, I think that's enough; you'llwash all your feathers off! Here you go back home again. "

She replaced the cage, filled the seed and water vases, and hung it backon its hook. 

Midget was a capable little girl, and she took away the bathtub, andtidied up all traces of her work, as neatly as Mary could have done. Thenshe looked around for more worlds to conquer. 

She saw the aquarium, a small round one, all of glass, in which were fourgoldfish. 

"I think I'll give you a bath, " said Midget to the fishes, laughing atthe absurdity of the idea. But as she stood watching them, she observedthe green mossy slime that covered the stones and shells at the bottom ofthe aquarium, and it occurred to her that it would be a good idea toclean them. 

"There's a small scrubbing-brush in the bathroom, " she said to herself, "and I can scrub them clean, and put in fresh water, and Mrs. Spencerwill be so surprised and pleased. "

She was about to bring a bowl of water from the bathroom to put thestones in while she scrubbed them, but she thought since there wasalready water in the glass, she might as well use that, and then getclean water for the fishes afterward. 

"But I don't believe they'll like the soap, " she thought, as, scrub-brushin hand, she was about to dip the soap in the water. "So I'll lay themaside while I scrub. "

Marjorie had never had any goldfish, and knew nothing about them, so withno thought save to handle them gently, she took them out of the water, and laid them on the table in the sunlight. 

She caught them by the simple process of using her handkerchief as adrag-net, and with great care, laid them softly down on the felttable-cover. 

"There, fishies, " she said, "don't take to your heels and run away. I'llsoon clean up these dirty old stones and shells, then I'll give you nicefresh water, and put you back home again. "

The stones and shells did look better, according to Midget's way ofthinking, after she had vigorously scrubbed the moss from them. Theyshone glistening, and white, and she put them back in the aquarium andfilled it with clean water, and then went for the fish. 

"Ah, taking a nap, are you?" she said, as the four lay quiet on thetable. But when she carefully put them back in the water, and they didn'twriggle or squirm a bit, she knew at once they were dead. 

"You horrid things!" cried Midget, "what did you go and die for, justwhen I was fixing up your cage so nice? You're not really dead, are you?Wake up!"

She poked and pinched them to no avail. 

"Oh, dear!" she sighed, "whenever I try to be good and helpful, I'm badand troublesome. Now I must go and tell Mrs. Spencer about it. I wonderwhat she'll say. I wish I could tell mother first, but they'd hear me onthe telephone. Perhaps the old things will come alive again. Maybethey've only fainted. "

But no sign of life came from the four victims, who calmly floated on topof the water, as if scorning the clean white stones and shells below. They looked so pretty and so pathetic, that Marjorie burst into tears, and ran downstairs in search of Mrs. Spencer. That lady heard the talewith a look of mingled amusement and annoyance on her face. 

"I've heard you were a mischievous child, " she said, "but I didn't thinkyou'd begin your pranks so soon. "

"But it wasn't pranks, Mrs. Spencer, " said Midget, earnestly. "I trulywanted to be help, fill, and I fixed the bird's cage so nicely, I thoughtI'd fix the fishes' cage too. "

"But you must have known that fishes die out of water. "

"No'm; I didn't. At least, --it seems to me now that I ought to have knownit, but I didn't think about it when I took 'em out. You see, I never hadany goldfish of my own. "

"Well, don't worry about it, child. It can't be helped now. But I supposeDelight will feel terribly. She was so fond of her goldfish. "

"I'm sure Father will let me give her some more, " said Midget, "but Isuppose she won't care for any others. "

She went back to the library, where she had left Delight asleep, andfound her just waking up. 

"Delight, " she said, wanting to get it over as soon as possible, "I'vekilled all four of your goldfish!"

"On purpose?" said Delight, still sleepy and uncomprehending. 

"No, of course not. It was an accident. I just laid them on the tablewhile I cleaned the aquarium, and they fainted away and staid fainted. Iguess they must have been sick before. "

"No, they weren't. They were awfully frisky yesterday. I think you'rereal mean, Marjorie. "

"I'm awful sorry, Delight, truly I am. But I'm 'most sure Father will letme give you other fish to make up for them. "

"But they won't be the same fish. "

"No, of course not. But we'll get prettier ones. "

"Oh, no, you needn't get any fish at all. I'd rather have a kitten. "

"Oh, I can get you a kitten easily enough. James always knows where toget them. What color do you want?"

"Gray; Maltese, you know. Will he get it to-day?"

"I'll ask Mother to ask him to-day. He'll get it soon, I know. "

"All right; I'd heaps rather have that than fish. I'm tired of goldfish, anyway. You can't cuddle them like you can kittens. And I never had akitten. "

"You didn't! Why, Delight Spencer! I never heard of a girl that had_never_ had a kitten! I'll ask Mother to see about it right away. Do youwant two?"

"Yes, as many as I can have. I ought to have four to make up for thosegoldfish. "

"You can have four, if your mother'll let you, " said Midget. "Ask her. "

"Oh, she'll let me. She never says no to anything I want. Does yourmother?"

"Yes, often. But then, I want such crazy things. "

"So do I. But I get them. Go on and see about the kittens. "

So Midget went to the telephone and told her mother the whole story aboutthe goldfish. 

Mrs. Maynard was surprised at Marjorie's ignorance of fish's habits, butshe didn't scold. 

"I do think, " she said "that you should have known better; but of courseI know you didn't intend to harm the fish. And anyway we won't discuss itover the telephone. I'll wait until we're together again. "

"You'll have to keep a list of all my mischief, Mother, " said Midget, cheerfully; "and do up the scolding and punishing all at once, when I gethome. "

"Yes, but don't get into mischief while you're over there. Do try, Marjorie, to behave yourself. "

"I will, Mother, but I'm so tired of staying here I don't know what todo. Delight heard me say that, but I can't help it. I expect she's tiredof having me here. "

"I am not!" declared Delight; "now ask her about the kittens. "

So Marjorie asked her mother about the kittens, and Mrs. Maynard promisedto ask James to see if he couldn't find some that would be glad of a goodhome. 

And so anxious was James to please his dear Miss Marjorie, and sonumerous were kittens among James' circle of personal acquaintances, thatthat very afternoon, a basket was set on the Spencer's porch and the doorbell was rung. 

Mary opened the door and saw the basket, well-covered over. 

"The saints presarve us!" she cried; "sure, it's a baby!"

She brought the basket in, and Mrs. Spencer turned back the foldedblanket, and disclosed four roly-poly kittens all cuddled into one heapof fur. 

"Oh!" cried Delight, "did you ever see anything so lovely! Midget, I'm_so_ glad you killed the goldfish! These are a million times nicer. "

"But you could have had these too, " said Marjorie; "and anyway, I'llprobably put these in the aquarium and drown them, by mistake!"

"Indeed you won't!" said Delight, cuddling the little balls of fur. "Oh, Mother, aren't they _dear?_"

"They are very cunning, " answered Mrs. Spencer, "and I'm glad you havethem. Though four seems a good many. Don't you want to give them somemilk?"

"Oh, yes; and we'll teach them all to eat from one saucer, so they'll beloving and affectionate. "

The kittens showed no desire to be other than affectionate, and amicablylapped up milk from the same saucer, without dispute. 

There was one white, one Maltese, one black, and one yellow, and Marjoriefelt sure James had chosen the prettiest he could find. 

"Now to name them, " said Delight. "Let's choose lovely names. You'll helpus, won't you, Miss Hart?"

"You ought to call the white one Pop Corn, " said Miss Hart, "for it'sjust like a big kernel of freshly popped corn. "

"I will, " said Delight, "for it's like that; but as that's a hard name tosay, I'll call her Poppy for short. A white poppy, you know. Now theblack one?"

"Blackberry, " suggested Marjorie, and that was the chosen name. Theyellow one was named Goldenrod, and the gray one Silverbell, and the fourtogether made as pretty a picture as you could imagine. The girls spentan hour or more playing with them and watching their funny antics, andthen Miss Hart proposed that they, crochet balls of different color foreach little cat. 

Mrs. Spencer provided a box of worsted and they chose the colors. 

A red ball was to be made for Blackberry, and a light blue one for Poppy. Goldenrod was to have a yellow one, and Silverbell a pink one. 

Miss Hart showed the girls how to crochet a round cover, hooping it toform a ball, and then stuffing it tightly with worsted just beforefinishing it. 

They made the four balls and tried to teach the kittens to remember theirown colors. But in this they were not very successful, as the kittensliked the balls so much they played with any one they could catch. 

When Mr. Maynard came home, true to his word, he sent Marjorie a gift. 

The bell rang, and there on the doorstep lay a parcel. 

It proved to contain two picture puzzles. 

"Oh, goody!" cried Midget. "These are just what I wanted. I've heardabout them, but I've never had any, and Father told me last week he'd getme one. One's for you, Delight, and one's for me. Which do you choose?"

"Left hand, " said Delight, as Marjorie's hands went behind her. 

"All right; here it is. "

"But I don't know how to do puzzles. I never saw one like this. "

"If you knew how to do it, it wouldn't be a puzzle. I don't know either;but we'll learn. "

"I'll show you how to begin, " said Miss Hart. "Wait a minute. "

She went out to the dining-room, and returned with two trays, oblong, square-cornered and of fairly good size. 

"Make your puzzles on these, " she said, "and then you can carry themaround while working on them, if you want to. You can't do that, if youmake them right on the table. "

So with the trays on the table in front of them the girls began. Eachpuzzle had about a hundred and fifty pieces, and they were not easy ones. Miss Hart showed them how to find pieces that fitted each other; butwould not help them after the first two or three bits were joined, forshe said the fun was in doing it themselves. 

"But I can't!" said Midge, looking perfectly hopeless; "these pieces areall brownish and greenish and I don't know what they are. "

"I see, " said Delight, her eyes sparkling; "you must find a face, orsomething that you can tell what it is, and start from that. "

"But there isn't any face here, " said Midget; "here's one eye, --if it_is_ an eye!"

"Begin with that, " advised Miss Hart. "Find some more of a face to gowith it. "

"Oh, yes; here's a nose and lips! Why, it just fits in!"

Soon the two children were absorbed in the fascinating work. It was anovelty, and it happened to appeal to both of them. 

"Don't look at each other's picture, " warned Miss Hart, "and then, whenboth are done, you can exchange and do each other's. It's no fun if yousee the picture before you try to make it. "

"Some pieces of mine must be missing, " declared Marjorie; "there's nopiece at all to go into this long, narrow curving space. "

Miss Hart smiled, for she had had experience in this pastime. 

"Everybody thinks pieces are lost at some stage of the work, " she said;"never mind that space, Marjorie, keep on with the other parts. "

"Oh!" cried Delight. "I can see part of the picture now! It's going to bea--"

"Don't tell!" interrupted Miss Hart; "after you've each done both ofthem, you can look at the finished pictures together. But now, keep itsecret what the pictures are about. "

So the work went on, and now and then a chuckle of pleasure or anexclamation of impatience would tell of the varying fortunes of theworkers. 

"Oh!" cried Delight. "I just touched a piece to straighten it, and Ijoggled the whole thing out of place!"

Then Miss Hart showed them how to take a ruler and straighten theedges, --if the edges were built; and how to crowd a corner down into acorner of the tray, and so keep the pieces in place. So engrossed werethe two that Mrs. Spencer had difficulty to persuade them to come todinner. 

"Oh, Mother, " cried Delight, "do wait till I find this lady's other arm. I'm sure I saw it a moment ago. "

And Marjorie lingered, looking for a long triangle with a notch in theend. 

But at last they set their trays carefully away, at different ends of theroom, and even laid newspapers over them, so they shouldn't see eachother's puzzle. 

"That's the most fun of any game I ever played, " said Delight, as shetook her seat at the table. 

"I think so too, " said Midge; "are there many of them made, Miss Hart?"

"Thousands, my dear. And all, or nearly all, different. "

"When we finish these, " said Delight, "I'll ask my father to bring ussome more. I just love to do them. "

"You musn't do too many, " said Miss Hart; "that stooping position is notgood for little girls if kept up too long at a time. "

"It did make the back of my neck ache, " said Delight; "but I don't mind, it's such fun to see the picture come. "

CHAPTER XIV

A PLEASANT SCHOOL

The next day lessons began. Miss Hart and Mrs. Spencer agreed that itwould be better for the two little girls to have regular school hours, and Delight was glad to have Marjorie at her lessons with her. 

Midge herself was not overpleased at the prospect, but her parents hadapproved of the plan, and had sent over her school-books. 

The play-room was used as a school-room, and a pleasant enough room itwas. 

When the girls went in, at nine o'clock, it didn't seem a bit likeschool. 

Miss Hart, in a pretty light house-dress, sat in a low rocker by thewindow. There was nothing suggesting a desk, and on a near-by table werea few books and a big bowl of flowers. 

The girls sat where they chose, on the couch or in chairs, and as Midgettold her mother afterward, it seemed more like a children's party thanschool. 

"First, let's read a story, " said Miss Hart, and Marjorie's eyes openedwider than ever. 

"Aren't we going to have school to-day?" she asked. 

"Yes, Marjorie; this is school. Here are your books, --we'll each haveone. "

She gave them each a copy of a pretty looking book, and asked them toopen it at a certain page. 

Then Miss Hart read aloud a few pages, and the girls followed her intheir own books. Then she asked Delight to read, and as she did so, MissHart stopped her occasionally to advise her about her manner of reading. But she did this so pleasantly and conversationally that it didn't seemat all like a reading-lesson, although that's really what it was. 

Marjorie's turn came next, and by this time she had become so interestedin the story, that she began at once, and read so fast, that she wenthelter-skelter, fairly tumbling over herself in her haste. 

"Wait, Marjorie, wait!" cried Miss Hart, laughing at her. "The end of thestory will keep; it isn't going to run away. Don't try so hard to catchit!"

Marjorie smiled herself, as she slowed down, and tried to read more asshe should. 

But Miss Hart had to correct her many times, for Midget was not a goodreader, and did not do nearly so well as Delight. 

And though Miss Hart's corrections were pleasantly and gently made, shewas quite firm about them, and insisted that Marjorie should modulate hervoice, and pronounce her words just as she was told. 

"What a fine story!" exclaimed Delight, as they finished it. 

"Oh, isn't it great!" exclaimed Marjorie; "do you call this book a'Reader, ' Miss Hart?"

"Yes, I call it a Reader. But then I call any book a Reader that I chooseto have my pupils read from. This book is named 'Children's Stories FromEnglish Literature, ' so you see, by using it, we study literature andlearn to read at the same time. The one we read to-day, 'The Story ofRobin Hood, ' is a story you ought to know well, and we will read otherversions of it some day. Now, we will talk about it a little. "

And then they had a delightful talk about the story they had read, andMiss Hart told them many interesting things concerning it, and thechildren asked questions; and then Miss Hart had them read certainportions of the story again, and this time she said Marjorie read muchbetter. 

"For I understand now, " said Midge, "what I'm reading about. And, oh, Miss Hart, I'm crazy to tell King all about it! He'll just love to playRobin Hood!"

"Yes, " said Miss Hart, "it makes a fine game for out-of-doors. Perhapssome day we'll find a story that we can play indoors, while you poorprisoners are kept captive. "

Marjorie gave a little sigh of pleasure. If this was school, it was avery nice kind of school indeed, but she supposed that arithmetic andspelling and all those horrid things were yet to come. And sure enough, Miss Hart's next words brought sorrow to her soul. 

"Now, girlies, we'll just have a little fun with arithmetic. I happen toknow you both hate it so perhaps if you each hold a kitten in your arm itwill cheer your drooping spirits a little. "

Marjorie laughed outright at this. Kittens in school were funny indeed!

"Yes, " said Miss Hart, laughing with Marjorie, "it's like Mary's littlelamb, you know. I never forgave Mary's teacher for turning him out Ithink kittens in school are lovely. I'll hold one myself. "

Then the girls drew nearer to Miss Hart, who had a large pad of paper anda pencil but no book. 

And how she did it Marjorie never knew, but she made an example inPartial Payments so interesting, and so clear, that the girls not onlyunderstood it, but thought it fun. 

Miss Hart said she was Mr. White, and the two children were Mr. Brown andMr. Green, who each owed her the same sum of money. It was to be paid inpartial payments, and the sharp and business-like Mr. White insisted onproper payments and exact interest from the other two gentlemen, who viedwith each other to tell first how much was due Mr. White. There was somelaughing at first, but the fun changed to earnest, and even the kittenswere forgotten while the important debts were being paid. 

"Good-bye, arithmetic!" cried Miss Hart, as the problem entirelyfinished, and thoroughly understood, she tossed the papers aside;"good-bye for to-day! Now, for something pleasanter. "

"But that was pleasant, Miss Hart, " said Marjorie; "I didn't thinkarithmetic could _ever_ be pleasant, but it was. How did you make it so?"

"Because I had such pleasant little pupils, I think, " said Miss Hart, smiling. "Now for a few calisthenics with open windows. "

The windows were flung up, and under Miss Hart's leadership they wentthrough a short gymnastic drill. 

"Doesn't that make you feel good?" said Marjorie, all aglow with theexercise, as they closed the windows, and sat down again. 

"That's no sort of a drill, really, " said Miss Hart; "but it will do forto-day. When we get fairly started, we'll have gymnastics that will be alot more fun than that. But now for our botany lesson. "

"Botany!" cried Midge; "I've never studied that!"

"Nor I, " said Delight, "and I haven't any book. "

"Here's the book, " said Miss Hart, taking a large white daisy from thebowl of flowers on the table. 

"How many leaves has it?"

The girls guessed at the number of petals, but neither guessed right. Then they sat down in front of Miss Hart, and she told them all about thepretty blossom. 

She broke it apart, telling them the names of petals, sepals, corolla andall the various tiny parts. 

The two children looked and listened breathlessly. They could scarcelybelieve the yellow centre was itself made up of tiny flowers. 

It was all so interesting and so wonderful, and, too, so new to themboth. 

"Is _that_ botany?" said Marjorie, with wide-open eyes. 

"Yes; that's my idea of teaching botany. Text-books are so dry and dull, I think. "

"So do I, " said Midge; "I looked in a botany book once, and it was awfulpoky. Tell us more, Miss Hart. "

"Not to-day, dearie; it's one o'clock, and school is over for to-day. "

"One o'clock!" both girls exclaimed at once; "it _can't_ be!"

But it was, and as they scampered away to make themselves tidy forluncheon, Marjorie said: "Oh! isn't she lovely! Do you always have agoverness like that, Delight?"

"No, indeed! My last one was strict and stern, and just heard my lessonsout of books. And if I missed a word she scolded fearfully. "

"I never saw anybody like Miss Hart! why that kind of school is play"

"Yes, I think so too. And it's lovely to have you here. It's so much moreinteresting than to have my lessons alone. "

"Oh, Miss Hart would make it interesting for anybody, alone or not. ButI'll be here for two weeks, I suppose. I don't mind it so much if we haveschool like that every day. "

"And picture puzzles every evening. "

"Yes, and kittens all day long!" Marjorie picked up two or three of thefurry little balls, that were always under foot, and squeezed them. 

At luncheon they gave Mrs. Spencer such a glowing account of their"school" that Miss Hart was quite overcome by their praise. 

"It's all because they're such attentive pupils, " she said modestly. 

"No, it isn't, " said Mrs. Spencer. "I knew what a kind and tactfulteacher you were before you came. A little bird told me. "

"Now how did the bird know that?" said Miss Hart, smiling, and Midgetwondered if Miss Hart thought Mrs. Spencer meant a real bird. 

Afternoons the governess always had to herself. If she chose to be withthe family, she might, but she was not called upon for any duties. Soafter Midget and Delight had finished their picture puzzles, and hadexchanged, and done each other's, time again seemed to hang heavily ontheir hands. 

It was really because they felt imprisoned, rather than any realrestraint. Marjorie wanted to run out of doors and play, and Delightdidn't know exactly what she did want. 

They were allowed to walk on the side piazza, if they chose, but walkingup and down a short porch was no fun, and so they fidgeted. 

"Let's get up a good, big rousing game, " said Midget, "a new one. "

"All right, " said Delight, "let's. "

"Can we go all over the house?"

"Yes, all except the attic and kitchen. "

The sick child and his mother had been put in two rooms in the thirdstory. These were shut off from the main part of the house, and werefurther protected by sheets sprinkled with carbolic acid which hung overthem. 

The children had been warned to keep as far as possible from thesequarters, but the front of the house was at their disposal. 

"Let me see, " said Midget, who was doing some hard thinking. "I guesswe'll play 'Tourists. '"

"How do you play it?"

"I don't know yet. I'm just making it up. We're the tourists, you know;and the house, the whole house in an ocean steamer. First, we must getour wraps and rugs. "

Diligent search made havoc in Mrs. Spencer's cupboards, but resulted in afine array of luggage. 

The girls dressed themselves up in Mrs. Spencer's long cats, and Mr. Spencer's caps, tied on with motor-veils, made what they agreed was afine tourist costume. 

In shawl straps they packed afghans, pillows, and such odds and ends asbooks and pictures, and they filled travellings bags with anything theycould find. 

Loaded down with their luggage, they went down in the front hall, whereMarjorie said the game must begin. 

"Have you ever been on an ocean steamer, Delight?" she asked. 

"No; have you?"

"Yes. I haven't sailed on one, you know, but I went on board to see AuntMargaret sail. So I know how they are. This house isn't built just right;we'll have to pretend a lot. But never mind that. "

"No, I don't mind. Now are we getting on board?"

"Yes, here's the gang plank. Now we go upstairs to the main saloon anddecks. Be careful, the ship is pitching fearfully!"

Oblivious to the fact that steamers don't usually pitch fearfully whilein port, the two travellers staggered up the staircase, tumblingviolently from side to side. 

"Oh, one of my children has fallen overboard!" cried Delight, as shepurposely dropped Goldenrod over the banister. 

"Man overboard!" cried Marjorie, promptly. "A thousand dollars reward!Who can save the precious child?" Swiftly changing from a tourist to acommon sailor, Marjorie plunged into the waves, and swam after thefast-disappearing Goldenrod. She caught the kitten by its tail, as it wascreeping under a sofa, and triumphantly brought it back to the weepingmother. 

"Bless you, good man!" cried Delight, her face buried in herhandkerchief. "I will reward you with a thousand golden ducats. "

"I ask no reward, ma'am; 'twas but my humble duty. "

"Say not so! You have rendered me a service untold by gold. "

Delight's diction often became a little uncertain, but if it soundedwell, that was no matter. 

"My cabin is forty-two, " said Marjorie, who was once more a tourist, onher way upstairs. 

"Here is a steward, " said Delight, "he will show us the way. "

The steward was invisible, but either of the girls spoke in his voice, asoccasion demanded. 

"This way, madam, " said Midget, as she led Delight to the door of her ownroom. "This is your stateroom, and I hope it will suit you. "

"Is it an outside one?" asked Delight, who had travelled on night boats, though not across the ocean. 

"Yes, ma'am. Outside and inside both. Where is your steamer trunk?"

"It will be sent up, I suppose. "

"Yes, ma'am. Very good, ma'am. Now, you can be steward to me, Delight. "

"Shure. This way, mum. It's Oirish, I am, but me heart is warrum. Shall Icarry the baby for ye?"

"Yes, " said Midget, giggling at Delight's Irish brogue, which was alwaysfunny; "but be careful. The child isn't well. " The child was Blackberry, who was dressed in large white muffler of Mrs. Spencer's pinned 'roundits neck. 

"The saints presarve us, mum! Ye've got the wrong baby! This is a blackone, mum!"

"That's all right, " said Midget "She's only wearing a black veil, to, --tokeep off the cold air. "

"Yis, mum. Now, here's yer stateroom, mum, and 'tis the captain's own. Hedo be givin' it to you, 'cause ye'r such a foine lady. "

"Yes, I am;" said Marjorie, complacently. "I'm Lady Daffodil of--ofBombay. "

"Ye look it! And now if ye'll excuse me, mum, I'll go and get the otherpassengers to rights. "

Delight slipped back to her stateroom, and returned with Goldenrod in herarms. She met Marjorie in the hall. 

"I think I have met you before, " she said, bowing politely. 

"Yes, " said Marjorie, in a haughty voice, "we met at the Earl's ball. Iam Lady Daffodil. "

"Ah, yes, I remember you now. I am the Countess of Heliotrope. "

"My dear Countess! I'm so glad to see you again. Are you going across?"

"Why, yes, I think I will. "

"I think you'll have to, as the ship has already started. Let us go outon deck. "

As they were well bundled up, they opened the door and stepped out on thesecond story balcony. It was not unlike a deck, and they went and stoodby the railing. 

"The sea is very blue, isn't it?" said Lady Daffodil, looking down at thebare ground with patches of snow here and there. 

"Yes, and see the white caps. Oh, we shall have a fine sail. Are you everseasick?"

"No; never! Are you?"

"No; I have crossed eighty-seven times, so I'm used to it. Did you knowthere's a case of diphtheria on board?"

"No, is that so?"

"Yes. Somebody in the steerage, I believe. That's why we're stopped atQuarantine. "

This struck both girls so funny that they had to stop and giggle at it. 

"My precious Goldenrod!" cried the Countess of Heliotrope, "I fear shewill catch it!"

"You'd better have her vaccinated at once. It's a sure cure. "

"I will. But let us go inside, the sea-breeze is too strong out here. "

The game seemed full of possibilities, and the tourists were stillplaying it when dinner time came. 

So they pretended it was the ship's dining-saloon to which they went, andMrs. Spencer and Miss Hart were strangers, passengers whom they had notyet met. 

The game once explained to Miss Hart, she grasped it at once, and playedher part to perfection. 

"I should think, " she said, finally, "that some such game as this wouldbe a fine way to study geography!"

"Now what can she mean by that?" thought Marjorie. 

CHAPTER XV

A SEA TRIP

As the days went by, Marjorie became more accustomed to her newsurroundings, and felt quite at home in the Spencer household. 

The baby's illness ran its course and though the child was very sick, thedoctor felt hopeful that they could keep the other children free frominfection. Mrs. Spencer felt keenly the trying situation, but Miss Hartwas so bright and cheerful that she made everybody feel happy. 

So, as far as the two little girls were concerned, it was just as ifMarjorie were merely making a visit to Delight. 

The children were becoming very much attached to each other. Delightgreatly admired Marjorie's enthusiastic, go-ahead ways, and Midget wasimpressed by Delight's quiet way of accomplishing things. 

Both were clever, capable children, and could usually do whatever theyset out to, but Marjorie went at it with a rush and a whirl, whileDelight was more slow and sure. 

But Delight was of a selfish disposition, and this was very foreign toMarjorie's wide generosity of spirit. However, she concluded it must bebecause Delight was an only child, and had no brothers or sisters toconsider. 

Marjorie's own brother and sister were very attentive to their exiledone. A dozen times a day King or Kitty would telephone the latest newsfrom school or home, and very frequently James would cross the streetwith a note or a book or a funny picture for Midget, from some of theMaynards. So the days didn't drag; and as for the morning hours, theywere the best of all. 

"It's like a party every day, " said Marjorie to her mother, over thetelephone. "Miss Hart is so lovely, and not a bit like a school-teacher. We never have regular times for any lesson. She just picks out whateverlesson she wants to, and we have that. Last night we bundled up and wentout on the upper balcony and studied astronomy. She showed us Orion, andlots of other constitutions, or whatever you call them. Of course wedon't have school evenings, but that was sort of extra. Oh, Mother, sheis just lovely!"

"I'm so glad, my Midget, that you're enjoying your lessons. Do youpractice every day?"

"Yes, Mother; an hour every afternoon. Miss Hart helps me a little withthat, too, and Delight and I are learning a duet. "

"That's fine! And you don't get into mischief?"

"No, --at least not much. I shut one of the kittens up in a bureau drawerand forgot her; but Miss Hart found her before she got very dead, and shelivened her up again. So, that's all right. "

"Not quite all right; but I'm sure you won't do it again. I can't seem toscold you when you're away from me, so _do_ try to be a good girl, won'tyou, my Midget. "

"Yes, Mother, I truly will. "

And she did. Partly because of the restraint of visiting, and partly byher own endeavors, Marjorie was, on the whole, as well-behaved a child asany one could wish. And if she taught Delight more energetic and noisygames than she had ever heard before, they really were beneficial to thetoo quiet little girl. 

One day they discovered what Miss Hart meant by using their steamer gamefor geography lessons. During school hours she proposed that they allplay the steamer game. 

Very willingly the girls arrayed themselves in wraps and caps, Miss Hartalso wearing tourist garb, and with shawl straps and bundles, and withthe kittens, also well wrapped up, they boarded the steamer. 

Miss Hart, who pretended to be a stranger with whom they becameacquainted on board, told them they were taking the Mediterranean trip toNaples. 

The school-room was, of course, the principal saloon of the boat, and asthe passengers sat round a table, Miss Hart, by means of a real steamerchart, showed them the course they were taking across the Atlantic. 

Time of course was not real, and soon they had to pretend they had beenat sea for a week or more. 

Then Miss Hart said they were nearing the Azores and would stop there fora short time. 

So they left the steamer, in imagination, and Miss Hart described to themthe beauties and attractions of these islands. She had photographs andpost cards, and pressed blossoms of the marvellous flowers that growthere. So graphic were her descriptions that the girls almost felt theyhad really been there. 

"To-morrow, " she said, as they returned to the ship, "we shall reachGibraltar. There we will get off and stay several hours, and I'm sure youwill enjoy it. "

And enjoy it they certainly did. Next day it occurred, and when they leftthe ship to visit Gibraltar, they were taken to Miss Hart's own room, which she had previously arranged for them. 

Here they found pictures of all the interesting points in or nearGibraltar. There were views of the great rock, and Miss Hart told themthe history of the old town, afterward questioning them about it, to besure they remembered. That was always part of her queer teaching, toquestion afterward, but it was easy to remember things so pleasantlytaught. 

She showed them pieces of beautiful Maltese lace, explaining how it wasmade, and why it was sold at Gibraltar, and she showed them pictures ofthe Moors in their strange garb, and told of their history. The luncheonbell sent them scurrying to the ship's dining-room, and they begged ofMiss Hart that they might go on to Naples next day. 

But she said that geography mustn't monopolize all the days, and nextday, although she wasn't sure, probably there would be a session with Mr. Arithmetic. 

"I don't care, " said Midget, happily, "I know we'll have a lovely time, even if it _is_ arithmetic. "

Valentine's Day came before the quarantine was raised. 

Marjorie was very sorry for this, for the doctor had said that after afew days more she could go home, and it seemed as if she might have gonefor the fourteenth. 

But he would not allow it, so there was nothing to do but make the bestof it. 

The night before Valentine's Day, however, she did feel a bit blue, asshe thought of King and Kitty and even Rosy Posy addressing theirvalentines, and making a frolic of it as they always did. 

And she thought of her father, who was always ready to help on suchoccasions, making verses, and printing them in his fine, neathandwriting. Of course, they would send some to her, --she knew that, --butshe was losing all the jolly family fun, and it seemed a pity. 

And then the telephone rang, and it was her father calling for her. 

"Hello, Midget, " came his cheery voice over the wire; "now I wonder if alittle girl about you? size isn't feeling sorry for herself thisevening. "

"I'm afraid I am, Father, but I'm trying not to. "

"Good for you, Sister! Now don't bother to do it, for I can tell you I'mfeeling _so_ sorry for you that it's unnecessary for anybody else to dothat same. Now I'll tell you something to chirk you up. I suppose youhave lessons to-morrow morning?"

"Yes; Miss Hart said we could have a holiday if we chose, but we didn'tchoose. So we're going to have special valentiney lessons, --I don't knowwhat they'll be. "

"All right; and in the afternoon, I shall send you over a valentineparty. No people, you know, they're not allowed; but all the rest of anice valentine party. "

"Why, Father, how can we have a party without people?"

"Easily enough. I'll attend to that. Goodnight, now, Midget. Hop to bed, and dream hearts and darts and loves and doves and roses and posies andall such things. "

"All right, I will. Good-night, Father dear. Is Mother there?"

"Yes, --hold the wire. "

So Mrs. Maynard came and said a loving goodnight to her near yet farawaydaughter, and Marjorie went to bed all cheered up, instead of lonely anddespondent. 

St. Valentine's Day was a fine, crisp winter day, with sunshine dancingon the snow, and blue sky beaming down on the bare branches of the trees. 

The fun began at breakfast-time, when everybody found valentines at theirplates, --for as Midge and Delight agreed, they had made so many, and theymust use them up somehow. So Miss Hart and Mrs. Spencer received severalin the course of the day; two were surreptitiously stuffed into DoctorMendel's coat pockets, and the kittens each received some. 

Lessons that morning were not really lessons at all. Miss Hart called ita Literature Class. 

First she told the girls about the origin of Valentines, and how theyhappened to be named for St. Valentine, and why he was chosen as thepatron saint of love. Then she read them some celebrated valentineswritten by great poets, and the girls had to read them after her, withgreat care as to their elocution. 

She showed them some curious valentines, whose initials spelled names orwords, and were called acrostics, and told of some quaint old-fashionedvalentines that had been sent to her grandmother. 

"And now, " she said finally, "we've had enough of the sentimental side, Iwill read you a funny valentine story. "

So, in her whimsical, dramatic fashion, she read the tragic tale of Mr. Todgers and Miss Tee. 

"In the town of Slocum Pocum, eighteen-seventy A. D. , Lived Mr. Thomas Todgers and Miss Thomasina Tee;The lady blithely owned to forty-something in the shade, While Todgers, chuckling, called himself a rusty-eating blade, And on the village green they lived in two adjacent cots. Adorned with green Venetians and vermilion flower pots. 

"No doubt you've heard it stated--'tis an aphorism trite--That people who live neighborly in daily sound and sightOf each other's personality, habitually growTo look alike, and think alike, and act alike, and soDid Mr. Thomas Todgers and Miss Thomasina Tee, In the town of Slocum Pocum, eighteen-seventy A. D. 

"Now Todgers always breakfasted at twenty-five to eight, At seven-thirty-five Miss Tee poured out her chocolate;And Todgers at nine-thirty yawned 'Lights out! I'll go to bed. 'At half-past nine Miss Tee 'retired'--a word she used instead. Their hours were identical at meals and church and chores, At weeding in the garden, or at solitaire indoors. "

"'Twas the twelfth of February, so the chronicler avers;Mr. Todgers in his garden, and Miss Tee, of course, in hers;Both assiduously working, both no doubt upon their knees, Chanced to raise their eyes together; glances met--and, if you please, Ere one could say Jack Robinson! tut-tut! or fol-de-re!Thomasina loved Mr. Todgers; Mr. Todgers loved Miss Tee!

"Two heads with but a single thought went bobbing to the dust, And Todgers smiled sub rosa, and Miss Thomasina blushed;Then they seized their garden tackle and incontinently fledDown the box-edged pathways past the flower pots of red;Past the vivid green Venetians, past the window curtains white, Into their respective dwellings, and were seen no more that night. 

"All that night poor love-sick Todgers tried his new-born hopes to quell, And Miss Tee made resolutions, but she did not make them well, For they went to smash at daybreak, and she softly murmured ''TisKismet! Fate! Predestination! If he'll have me I am his. 'While Todgers sang 'There's Only One Girl in This World for Me, 'Or its music hall equivalent in eighteen-seventy. 

"It was February thirteenth (On, my Pegasus! Nor balkAt that fear-inspiring figure!) Thomasina took a walk. And Fate drew her--drew her--drew her by a thousand spidery linesTo a Slocum Pocum window filled chockful of valentines, All gaudy--save two, just alike in color, shape and size, Which pressed against the window pane and caught the lady's eyes. 

"'How chaste! How charming! How complete!' she cried. 'It must be mine!I'll tell my love to Thomas in this lovely valentine, Whereon is suitably inscribed, in letters fine and free, 'SEND BACK THIS TENDER TOKEN IF YOU CANNOT MARRY ME. 'So with her cheeks all rosy, and her pulses all astir, She went in and brought the valentine and took it home with her. 

"Ten minutes later Thomas paused outside the self-same store. You guess the rest. Fate grappled him and pushed him through the door, And made him buy the fellow to the very valentineWhich Thomasina had purchased there at twenty-five to nine. He chuckled (and Fate chuckled) the appropriate words to see--'SEND BACK THIS TENDER TOKEN IF YOU CANNOT MARRY ME. '

"It was February fourteenth, and the postman's rat-a-tatMade two hearts in Slocum Pocum beat a feverish pit-patThomas and Thomasina each in turn rushed doorwards andSnatched their respective missives from the post's extended hand;And the postman, wicked rascal, slowly winked the other eye, And said: 'Seems to me the old folks is a gettin' pretty spry. '

"They tore the letters open. 'What is this? Rejected! Spurned!'Both thought the cards before them were their valentines returned. And Thomas went to Africa, and Thomasina to Rome;And other tenants came to fill each small deserted home. So no more in Slocum Pocum may we hope again to seePoor Mr. Thomas Todgers and poor Thomasina Tee. "

"That's awfully funny, " said Delight, as Miss Hart finished reading, "butI should think they would have known they got each other's valentine. "

"I shouldn't, " said Midge, who entered more into the spirit of the story;"they didn't know each other sent any, so each thought their own wasreturned. Besides, if they hadn't thought so, there wouldn't have beenany story. "

"That's so, " said Delight, who usually agreed with Marjorie, finally. 

The postman brought lots of valentines for the two little girls. Delight's were almost all from her friends in New York, although some ofthe Rockwell young people had remembered her too. 

Marjorie's were nearly all from Rockwell, and though there were none fromany of her family, that did not bother her, for she knew they would comein the afternoon for the "party. "

CHAPTER XVI

A VALENTINE PARTY

At four o'clock the "party" came. Midget and Delight, watching from thewindow, saw James and Thomas come across the street, bringing betweenthem a great big something, all wrapped in white tissue paper. They lefttheir burden, whatever it was, on the porch, rang the door-bell, and wentaway. 

The children flew to the door, and, with the help of Mary and Miss Hart, they brought the big thing in. 

Though bulky, it was not heavy, and they set it in the library andproceeded to take off the wrappings. As the last sheet of tissue paperwas removed, shrieks of admiration went up from the girls, and Mrs. Spencer came running in to see what the excitement was about. 

She saw a large heart, about five feet high, made on a light wood frame, which was covered with red cr�pe paper. It was bordered with red andwhite gilt flowers, also made of paper, and at the top was a big bow ofred ribbon, with long fluttering streamers. On top of the heart, ofeither _shoulder_, sat two beautiful white doves which were real doves, stuffed, and they held in their beaks envelopes, one marked Delight andone Marjorie. 

The whole affair had a back stay, and stood up on the floor like aneasel. The paper that covered the heart was put on in folds, like tucksupside down, and in the folds were thrust many envelopes, that doubtlesscontained valentines. Between and among these were little cupids anddoves fastened on, also nosegays of flowers and fluttering ribbons, andhearts pierced with darts, and the whole effect was like one great bigvalentine. 

Before touching the envelopes, Delight and Marjorie sat on the floor, their arms round each other, and gazed at the pretty sight. 

"Did your father make it?" asked Delight. 

"He planned it, I'm sure, " replied Marjorie. "But they all helped makeit, I know. I suppose Father had the frame made somewhere, then he andMother covered it, and Kit and King helped make the flowers and things. Oh, I wish I'd been there!"

"Then they wouldn't have made it!" said Delight, quickly, and Midgelaughed, and said:

"No, I suppose not. Well, shall we begin to read the valentines?"

"Yes, but let's take them out slowly, and make it last a long while. "

"Yes, for this is our 'party, ' you know. Oh, see, these envelopes in thedoves' bills say on them, 'To be opened last. ' So we'll begin with theseothers. You take one with your name on, first. "

So Delight pulled out an envelope that was addressed to her. 

It contained a valentine of which the principal figure was a prettylittle girl, something like Delight herself. Inside was written:

"Flossy Flouncy, fair and fine, Let me be your Valentine. Here's my heart laid at your feet, Flossy Flouncy, fair and sweet. "

"I know King wrote that!" cried Midget; "he always calls you FlossyFlouncy. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, indeed! I think it's fun. I'm going to call him Old King Cole. Thatis, if I ever see him again. "

"Oh, pshaw! We'll be out of this prison next week. The doctor said so. And you must come and make me a visit to even things up. "

"Mother wouldn't let me go to your house to stay, I'm sure; but I can goover afternoons or Saturdays. "

"Yes, and you'll get to know King better. He's an awful nice boy. "

"I'm sure he is. Now you take a valentine. "

Midget pulled out the biggest one that was addressed to her. It held abeautiful, large valentine, not home-made, but of most elaborate design. 

On its back, though, was a verse written, that Midge knew at once wasdone by her father. It said:

"Marjorie Midget Mopsy Mops, I have looked through all the shops, Searching for a ValentineGood enough for Midget Mine. This is the best that I could do, So here it is with my love so true. "

"Isn't it a beauty!" cried Midge; "I never had such a handsome onebefore. See how the flowers are tied with real ribbons, and the birds hopin and out of their cages. "

"It's splendid!" said Delight, "and here's a big one for me too!"

She pulled out a large envelope, addressed to herself, and found avalentine quite as beautiful as Marjorie's and almost exactly like it. Itwas from her father, and as Mr. Spencer didn't have the knack of rhymingas well as Mr. Maynard, he had written on the back:

"Dear Delight, I can't write, But I send youAffection true, Yankee Doodle Doo!"

"I think that's funny!" cried Marjorie. "I love funny valentines. "

"So do I, " agreed Delight; "and I didn't know father could make rhymes aswell as that. He must have learned from your father. "

"I 'spect he did. Everybody makes verses at our house. "

Marjorie smiled to think of the grave and dignified Mr. Spencer learningto write funny rhymes, but she was glad Delight had a big valentine likehers. 

Then they pulled out the others, by turns. Some were lovely ones that hadbeen bought; some were home-made ones; some were funny, but the funnyones were home-made, they were not the dreadful things that are called"comic" valentines. 

Then there were valentines from Gladys and her brother Dick, which hadbeen delivered by the postman at Marjorie's home, and sent over with theothers. There was one from each of the home servants, who were all fondof Midget, and glad to send her a token of remembrance. And among thebest of all were valentines from Grandma Sherwood and Uncle Steve. 

Uncle Steve was especially clever at writing verses, and he sent severalvalentines to both the girls. 

One bore a picture of two weeping maidens, behind barred windows in acastle tower. The verses ran thus:

"Two Princesses locked in a tower, Alas, alas for they!I would they need not stay an hour, Nor yet another day. But to a lovely rosy bower The two might fly away. 

"I would I were a birdie fleet That I might wing a flight, And bear to them a message sweet Each morning, noon and night. Twould be to me a perfect treat To see their faces bright. 

"But, no, in their far home they stay, And I must stay in mine;But though we are so far away Our thoughts we may entwine. And I will send this little lay From your fond

"VALENTINE. "

"That's lovely, " said Delight, "and it's for me as much as you. Whatjolly relatives you have. "

"Oh, Uncle Steve is wonderful. He can do anything. Sometime perhaps youcan go to his house with me, then you'll see. Oh, here's a pretty one, listen. "

Midge read aloud:

"What is a Valentine? Tell me, pray. Only a fanciful roundelayBearing a message from one to another(This time, to a dear little girl from her mother). Message of love and affection true;This is a Valentine, I LOVE YOU!"

"That's sweet. Did your mother write it?"

"Yes, Mother makes lovely poetry. Here's a ridiculous one from Kit. "

"Marjorie, Parjorie, Pudding and Pie, Hurry up home, or I'll have to cry. Since you've been gone I've grown so thinI'm nothing at all but bone and skin. So hurry up home if you have any pityFor your poor little lonesome sister

"KITTY. "

"Why, I thought people never signed valentines, " said Delight, laughingat Kitty's effusion. 

"They don't, real ones. But of course these are just nonsense ones, andanyway I know Kit's writing, so it doesn't matter. "

There were lots of others, and through Marjorie, naturally, had more thanDelight, yet there were plenty for both girls, and set out on two tablesthey made a goodly show. Miss Hart was called in to see them, but sheanswered that she was busy in the dining-room just then, and would comein a few moments. 

The big heart that had held the valentines was not at all marred, butrather improved by their removal, and, the girls admired it more thanever. 

"But we haven't taken the last ones yet, " said Delight, looking at thetwo envelopes in the bills of the doves. They took them at the same time, and opened them simultaneously. 

Each contained a valentine and a tiny parcel. The valentines were exactlyalike, and their verses read the same:

"This is a Ring Dove, fair and whiteThat brings this gift to you to-night. But why a Ring Dove, you may ask;The answer is an easy task. Look in this tiny box and seeWhat has the Ring Dove brought to thee!"

Eagerly the girls opened the boxes, and inside, on a bit of cotton wool, lay two lovely rings exactly alike. They were set with a little heartmade of tiny pearls and turquoises, and they just fitted the fingers ofthe two little girls. 

"Aren't they exquisite!" cried Delight, who loved pretty things. 

"Beautiful!" agreed Midge, who thought more of the ring as a souvenir. "We can always remember to-day by them. I suppose your father sent yoursand my father sent mine. "

"Yes, of course they did. Oh, Miss Hart, do look at our rings andvalentines!"

Miss Hart came in, smiling, and proved an interested audience of one, asshe examined all the pretty trifles. 

"And now, " said Miss Hart, at last, "there's more to your valentineparty. Will you come out to the dining-room and see it?"

Wondering, the two girls followed Miss Hart to the dining-room, andfairly stood still in astonishment at the scene. As it was well afterdusk now, the shades had been drawn, and the lights turned on. The tablewas set as if for a real party, and the decorations were all of pink andwhite. 

Pink candles with pretty pink shades cast a soft light, and pink andwhite flowers were beautifully arranged. In the centre was a waxen cupidwith gilt wings, whose outstretched hands bore two large hearts suspendedby ribbons. These hearts were most elaborate satin boxes, one havingMarjorie on it in gilt letters and the other Delight. As it turned out, they were to be kept as jewel boxes, or boxes for any little trinkets, but now they were filled with delicious bon-bons, the satin lining beingprotected by tinfoil and lace paper. 

The table was laid for four, and at each place was a valentine. 

Mrs. Spencer and Miss Hart took their seats, but, at first, the girlswere too bewildered to understand. 

"It's your party, Marjorie, " said Miss Hart, smiling. "Your father andmother sent it all over, --everything, even the candles and flowers. Allwe've done is to arrange it on the table. So you must sit at the head, asyou're hostess. "

So Midget took her place at the head of the table, with Delight opposite. 

Each person had a parcel at their plate, daintily tied up in pink paperand white ribbon, and sealed with little gold hearts. 

Mrs. Spencer said they would not open these until after the feast, soafter they had looked a few moments longer on the pretty things all aboutthe table, Mary brought in the first course, and the party began. 

First there was fruit, and this consisted of a slice of pineapple cut ina heart shape, and surrounded on the plate by strawberries and candiedcherries. This dainty arrangement, on lace paper, was so pretty thatDelight said it was too bad to disturb it. 

"It's too good not to be disturbed, " said Marjorie, and as it was reallydinner time, and the girls were hungry, the lovely fruit course soondisappeared. 

"This isn't dinner, " said Mrs. Spencer, "it's a party supper. Your party, you know, Marjorie. "

"Yes'm; I didn't see how Father could send me a party without people. Buthe did his part, didn't he?"

"Yes, indeed; and we're doing ours. We've all the people that we canhave, and so we'll make the best of it. "

"I think it's a lovely party, " said Delight, "the best one I ever wentto. Oh, what are these?"

For Mary was just passing the most fascinating looking dish. It wasoyster croquettes, carefully moulded in heart shapes, accompanied byFrench fried potatoes also cut into little hearts. 

"Ellen cut these, I know she did, " said Marjorie. "She's such a clevercook, and she loves to make fancy things. "

"Your mother is very fortunate with her servants, " said Mrs. Spencer, with a little sigh. 

And then came lovely brown bread sandwiches, of course they were heartshaped too, and Marjorie declared she'd have heart-disease if thesethings kept on!

But they did keep on. Next came jellied chicken that had been moulded inheart forms, and lettuce salad with red hearts cut from beets among thecrisp yellow leaves. 

Then came dessert, and it was a bewildering array of heart ice creams, and heart cakes, and heart bon-bons, and heart shaped forms of jelly. 

"Only one of each, to-night, " said Mrs. Spencer, smiling. "I don't wanttwo invalids for valentines, I can assure you. "

So lots of the good things were left over for next day, and Marjorieremarked that she thought the next day's feast was always about as muchfun as the party any way. 

"Now for our presents, " said Delight, as the last plates were removed, and they sat round the table still feasting their eyes on the prettytrinkets that decorated it. 

So Mrs. Spencer opened her parcel first. 

She found a silver photograph frame shaped like a heart. Of course, Mr. Spencer had sent it, and the pretty card with it read:

"As at my verse I'm sure you'd sniff, I simply send this little gift. 

"VALENTINE. "

The Spencers seemed to think this a fine poem but Marjorie secretlywondered if a grown-up man could think those words rhymed!

Miss Hart opened her box next, and found a heart-shaped filigree goldbrooch of great beauty. The Maynards had sent her this, not only as avalentine, but as a token of gratitude for her kindness to Marjorie. 

These verses were written on a fancy card:

"Hearts to Miss HartSo I bring you a heart. Your name is fineFor a Valentine. Though this trinket smallCan't tell you all'Twill give you a hintThat hearts are not flint;And when this one of goldOur good wishes has told, May it brightly shineAs your valentine. "

"It's just a darling!" exclaimed Miss Hart, looking at the welcome gift. "Your parents are too good to me, Marjorie. "

"I'm glad of it, " said Midge, simply, "you're too good to me!"

She smiled at Miss Hart, and then she and Delight opened their boxestogether. 

Their gifts were just alike, and were pink and gold cups and saucers. Thechina and decoration were exquisite, and both cup and saucer were heartshaped. Not the most convenient shape to drink from, perhaps, but lovelyfor a souvenir of Valentine's Day. 

Then they took the boxes held out by the wax cupid, and admired thetufted satin and the painted garlands. 

"Let's take the candies out and put them in other boxes, " said Delight, "so there'll be no danger of getting a bit of chocolate on the satin. "

This was a good idea, and then they took all the pretty ornaments intothe library and set them around on tables. 

"It's like Christmas, " said Delight, with a little sigh of happiness. "Ido love pretty things. "

"Then you ought to be happy now, " said Miss Hart, "for I never saw suchan array of favors. "

And indeed the room looked like a valentine shop, with its flowers andgifts and cupids and valentines, and the big heart standing in front ofthe mantel. 

Then Miss Hart spent the evening playing games with the children, andafter an enthusiastic telephone conversation with the people opposite, Marjorie and Delight went upstairs, agreeing that nobody had ever hadsuch a lovely Valentine party. 

CHAPTER XVII

A JINKS AUCTION

At last the day came when Marjorie was allowed to go home. 

Doctor Mendel had had a most thorough fumigation and disinfection, andall danger was over. The little boy was convalescent, and there was nolonger any reason why Midget or Mr. Spencer should be exiled from theirhomes. 

And so, liberated from her prison, Midget flew, across the street, andinto the arms of her waiting family. 

"Mother first!" she cried, as they all crowded round, but so mixed up didthe Maynards become, that it was one grand jumble of welcoming hugs andkisses. 

"Oh, I'm _so_ glad to be home again, " Marjorie cried, as she looked aboutthe familiar living-room. "It seems as if I'd been away years. "

"Seems so to me, too, " said Kitty, who had greatly missed her sister. "Mother, aren't we going to celebrate Mopsy's coming home?"

Now "celebration" in the Maynard household, always meant dress-up frocks, and ice cream for dessert. 

"Of course, " said Mrs. Maynard, smiling; "fly upstairs, girlies, and getinto some pretty dresses, and then fly down again, for father's cominghome early. "

So Midge and Kitty flew, and King scampered to his room also, and Mrs. Maynard gave the baby over to Nurse Nannie for a clean frock, while sheherself telephoned for the ice cream. And to the order she added cakesand candied fruits and other dainties, until it bade fair to be acelebration feast indeed. 

Marjorie, delighted to be in her own room once more, chattered rapidly, as she and Kitty dressed, and tied ribbons, and hooked waists for eachother. 

"Delight is an awfully nice girl, Kitsie, " she was saying. "I didn't likeher so much at first, but as we were together so much I grew to like herbetter. "

"Is she as nice as Gladys?"

"In some ways she is. She's more fun than Glad about playing games. Sheloves to play pretend, and Gladys wasn't much good at that. But, ofcourse, I'm more fond of Glad, she's my old friend. Delight is nice for aneighbor though. "

Dressed in a white serge, with pipings and bows of scarlet velvet, hercheeks glowing red with the joyous excitement of getting home, and hereyes dancing with happiness, Marjorie flew downstairs just in time totumble into the arms of her father, who was entering the hall door. 

"Why, bless my stars!" he exclaimed; "who in the world is this?"

"Your long-lost daughter!" said Midge, nestling in his big, comfortableembrace. 

"No! Can it be? This great big girl! Why, how you've grown! Andyet, --yes, it is! my own Marjorie Mischief Mopsy Midget Maynard! Well, I_am_ glad you're back where you belong!"

"So'm I! I tell you Father Maynard, it was awful hard to stay away solong. "

"I know it, girlie, and I hope it won't happen again. But you know, 'intoeach life some rain must fall. '"

"And I did have a good time, too, " went on Midge. "Isn't it funny, Father, how you can have a good time and a bad time both at once. "

"Quite comic, I should say. Now, let me get my coat off, and then we'lltalk matters over. "

Marjorie skipped into the living-room, and plumped herself down on thesofa. Kitty and King sat close on either side, and Rosy Posy climbed intoher lap and lovingly patted her face. 

The four made a pretty group, and as Mrs. Maynard came in and saw them, she said:

"Well, I'm glad my quartette is whole again; it's been broken so long. "

The dinner was a celebration for fair. Aside from the delicious things toeat, everybody was so gay and glad over Marjorie's return, that all waslaughter and jollity. 

"How different our two families are, " said Midge, thoughtfully; "here weare having such fun and frolic, and the Spencers are just having anevery-day, quiet dinner. "

"Aren't they glad the sickness is all over?" asked Kitty. 

"Yes, of course. But they never 'celebrate. ' I guess they don't know howvery well. And Mrs. Spencer is very quiet. Much noise makes her headache. "

"Mr. Spencer was awful quiet, too, " said King. "He hardly ever laughedall the time he was here. Except the night we wrote the valentines. Thenhe laughed, cause we made him write poetry and he couldn't. "

"Well, they're nice people, " said Midge, "but awful different from us. I'm glad I'm a Maynard!"

"I'm glad you are!" said her father. 

The next day Mrs. Maynard announced her intention of going over to seeMrs. Spencer, and thanking her for her care of Marjorie. 

"But it does seem funny, " said Midge, "to thank her for keeping me there, when I couldn't possibly get away! But she was good to me, though reallyshe didn't pay very much attention to me. But I s'pose that was 'causeshe was so bothered about the little sick boy. But, Mother, do thank MissHart, too. She was lovely; and she put herself out lots of times, to makeit pleasant for Delight and me. Give her plenty of thanks, will you, Mother?"

"Yes, Midget; and what about Delight?"

"Oh, yes, thank her too. She was kind and pleasant, --only, --well, itseems mean to say so, --but, Mother, she is a little selfish. I didn'tmind, really; only I don't think it's quite nice to be selfish to aguest. "

"Perhaps not, Mar; one; but neither is it nice to criticise your littlehostess. "

Marjorie flushed. "I didn't mean to, Mother, " she said; "but I thought itdidn't count when I'm just talking to you. "

"That's right, dearie; always say anything you choose to Mother, butdon't criticise Delight to anybody else. "

"No, Mother, I won't, " and Midge gave her mother one of her biggest"bear-hugs" and then wandered off in search of Kitty. 

"What are you doing, Kit?" she said, as she found her sister sitting onthe big hall settle, looking out of the window. 

"Waiting for Dorothy. She's coming this afternoon, and we're going toplay paper dolls. "

Marjorie must have looked a little disappointed, for Kitty said:

"Say, Mops, why don't you take Delight for your friend in Glad's place?It's so nice to have a friend all your own. "

"I know it is, Kit, " and Midget sat down beside her sister, "but somehowit seems sort of mean to put anybody in Gladys's place. "

"Oh, pshaw! it doesn't either. And when Glad is so far away, too. Shedoesn't even write to you, does she?"

"She sent me a valentine. "

"Well, but when has she written?"

"Not for a long time. But that doesn't matter. She's my friend, and I'mnot going to put anybody else in her place. "

Kitty grew exasperated at this foolishness, as it seemed to her, andsaid:

"Well, then don't put her in Glad's place. Keep her old place empty. Buttake Delight as a sort of, what do you call it? Substitute friend, andlet her come over here to play, same as Dorothy comes to play with me. "

"I'd like to do that, " said Midge. "I'm awfully glad to have Delight withme, and I know she likes me. "

"Then go and telephone her now. Ask her to come over, and play. "

"No, not now, 'cause mother is over there, and I'd rather wait till shecomes home. Let's all play together to-day. "

"All right; here comes Dorothy now. "

Dorothy Adams came in, very glad to see Midget again, whom she likedalmost as much as she did Kitty. She took off her things, and the girlsdrifted into the living-room, where King sat reading. 

He had a band of red ribbon round his head, in which were stuck a dozenlarge turkey feathers, giving him a startling appearance. 

"What's the feathers for?" asked Dorothy, looking at the boy inamazement. 

"Why, you see, I'm reading one of Cooper's stories, " King explained, "andI can sort of feel the Indian part of it better if I wear some feathers. "

"Come on and play, " said Midget; "shall we play Indians?"

"No, " said Kitty, promptly, "it's too rough and tumbly when we play it inthe house. Let's play a pretend game. "

"Aren't we going to have the Jinks Club any more?" asked Dorothy. "Wehaven't had it since the Fultons went away. "

"Too few of us, " said King; "we four, that's all. "

"We might ask Delight to belong, " said Marjorie, "she can cut up jinkswhen she feels like it. "

"All right, do;" said King, "let's have Flossy Flouncy; and I'll ask FlipHenderson, he's heaps of fun. Then we'll have six, just like we hadbefore. "

"I don't like to put people in the Fultons' place, " said Marjorie, dubiously. 

"Now, look here, Midge, that's silly!" said King. "We can't help it thatthe Fultons moved away, but that's no reason we shouldn't have anybody toplay with. Let's telephone for our two new members right now, and beginthe club all over again. "

After a little more argument Marjorie consented, and she telephoned forDelight to come over, and then King telephoned for Frederick Henderson, better known by the more euphonious name of Flip. Both accepted, and inless than half an hour the Jinks Club was in full session. The newmembers had been elected by the simple process of telling them that theywere members, and they gladly agreed to the rules and regulations of thesomewhat informal club. 

"We just cut up jinks, " exclaimed Marjorie, "but they have to be goodjinks, for bad jinks are mischief, and we try to keep out of that. "

"It sounds lovely, " said Delight; "I always wanted to belong to a club, but I never have before. Can't we cut up a jink, now?"

"You must say 'cut up jinks, ' Flossy Flouncy, " said King, smiling at thepretty, eager face. "You can't cut 'em by ones. "

"Well, cut some, and show me how. "

"I believe you think we cut 'em with scissors, like paper dolls, " saidMarjorie, laughing. 

She was really very glad to have Delight with her again, for she hadbecome more attached than she realised to the little girl during theirfortnight together. 

"Show me, " repeated Delight, with an air of willingness to learn. 

"All right; let's have a good one. What shall it be, Mops?"

King looked at his sister with such evident faith in her power ofinventiveness, that the others all looked at her too. Marjorie lookedround the room. 

"I'll tell you!" she cried, as a brilliant idea came to her, "we'll playauction. "

"Hooray!" cried King, grasping the plan at once. "Sell everything we canmove. "

"Yes, " cried Mops. "Where is the auction room?"

"This end of the room is the auction room, " King, indicating nearly halfof the long living-room. "Now, Flip and I are auctioneers and you ladiesare in reduced poverty, and have to bring your household goods to besold. "

Delight and Kitty at once saw dramatic possibilities, and flew to dressfor their parts. An afghan for a shawl, and a tidy for a bonnet, contented Kitty, but on Delight's head went a fluffy lamp mat, stuckthrough with four or five of the turkey quills discarded from King'shead-dress. 

Mops and Dorothy followed this lead, and soon four poverty-strickenladies, carrying household treasures, timidly entered the auction-room. 

"What can I do for you, madam?" said King, as Delight showed him a bronzestatuette. 

"I have lost all my fortune, sir, " responded Delight, sobbing in a waythat greatly pleased her hearers; "and I fear I must sacrifice my fewremaining relics of my better days. "

"Ah, yes, madam. Sorry to hear of your ill luck. Just leave thestatuette, ma'am, we have an auction to-morrow or next week, and we'llget what we can for it. "

"It's a priceless work of art, " said Delight, still loudly weeping, "andI don't want less than five thousand dollars for it. "

"Five thousand dollars, madam! A mere trifle for that gem! I'll get tenthousand for you, at least!"

"Ten thousand will do nicely, " said Delight, giggling at last at King'spompous air. 

Then Marjorie came bringing a large frilly sofa pillow. 

"This is my last pillow, " she said, in quavering tones. "I shall have tosleep on a brickbat tonight; but I must have bread for my children toeat. There are seven of them, and they haven't had a mouthful for twoweeks. "

"Oh, that's nothing!" responded Flip, airily. "Children ought not to befed oftener than every three weeks anyway. I hate over-fed children. Itmakes them so cross. "

"So it does, " agreed Kitty. "But my children are never cross, 'cause Ifeed them on honey. I've brought a bust of Dante to have sold by auction. It's a big one, you see, and ought to bring a good price. "

"Yes, it will, madame, I'm sure. Haven't you anything more to leave?"

"Yes, here's an umbrella, and a waste basket, and some books. They're allvaluable but I have so much treasures in my house, I don't need these. "

"Hurry up, " put in Dorothy, "and give me a chance. I've brought thesepictures, " showing some small ones she had lifted from their nails in thewall, "and also this fine inkstand. Look out and don't spill the ink Alsohere's a vase of flowers, flowers and all. Look out and don't spill thewater. "

"You seem to bring spilly things, ma'am, " said King, taking the goodscarefully. "But we'll sell them. "

Each girl trudged back and forth a few times until most of the portablethings in the room were piled up on the table and sofa at the end wherethe boys were, and then the auction was prepared. 

The boys themselves had taken down many of the larger pictures from theirhooks, and the room looked, on the whole, as if a cyclone had struck it. 

"They ought to be numbered, " said Flip, stepping gingerly about among thethings. 

"Hold on a minute! I've got it!" shouted King, and rushed upstairs at topspeed. 

He returned with a large calendar, two or three pairs of scissors and apaste-pot. 

"Cut 'em out, " he directed, giving each girl a page of the calendar. 

The numbers were large, more than an inch square, and soon lots of themwere cut out. These, the boys pasted on all the goods for sale, makingthem look like real auction goods. 

"Won't it hurt the things?" asked Delight, who was not used to suchhigh-handed performances. 

"'Course not! They'll wash right off. Now the auction will begin. Now, you must be rich ladies, different ones, you know. "

"Here you are!" cried King, who was auctioneer by common consent; "hereyou are! number 24! a fine large statuette by one of the old masters. What am I bid for this?"

"Fifty cents, " said Dorothy. 

"Fifty cents! Do you mean to insult me, madame! Why, some old masterssell as high as fifty dollars, I can tell you! Who will bid higher?"

"One hundred dollars!" called out Delight, and the bronze statuette wasdeclared her property. 

Then other goods were put up, and, in order to make the play progressmore quickly, two auctioneers were set to work, and King and Flip wereboth calling their wares and the bids at once. 

Naturally, the bidders grew very excited. A large picture was hotlycontested, Kitty bidding against Delight, while on the other block, thebig inkstand was being sold. Somehow the wire of the picture becametangled round the auctioneer's foot, he stepped back and bumped into theother auctioneer who lost his balance, and fell over, inkstand and all. The heavy inkstand fell on the picture, breaking the glass, and soakingthe paper engraving with ink. Much of the ink, too, went on Flip, whograbbed for it in a vain endeavor to save the situation. 

The two boys laughingly straightened themselves out of their own mix up, but their laughter ceased when they saw that real damage had been done. 

"Oh, dear!" said Marjorie, "this is a bad jinks after all!"

"Never mind, Mopsy, " said King, magnanimously, "it wasn't your fault. Itwas mine. "

"No, it was mine, " said Midge, "for I proposed playing auction. I mighthave known we'd play it too hard. "

"Never mind, " said Kitty, "the company didn't have anything to do withthe trouble, and we mustn't make them feel bad. "

"I did, " said Dorothy, "I brought the inkstand to the auction. I ought tohave known better. "

"Never mind who's to blame, " said King, "let's straighten things out. Thegame is over. "

Good-naturedly, they all went to work, and soon had everything back inits place. The broken and spoiled picture was stood behind the sofa, faceto the wall, to be confessed to mother later. 

"Now we're all in shape again, " said King, looking proudly about thecleared up room. "Any nice little jinks to eat, Midgie?"

"I'll ask Sarah. She'll find something. "

She did, and soon a large tray of cookies and lemonade refreshed themembers of the Jinks Club, after which the visiting members went home. 

CHAPTER XVIII

HONEST CONFESSION

"I want to own up, Mother, " said King, as Mrs. Maynard came into theroom, just before dinner time. 

"Well, King, what have you been doing now?"

Mrs. Maynard's face expressed a humorous sort of resignation, for she wasaccustomed to these confessions. 

"Well, you see, Mothery, we had the Jinks Club here to-day. "

King's voice was very wheedlesome, and he had his arm round his mother'sneck, for he well knew her affection for her only son often overcame herduty of discipline. 

"And the Jinksies cut up some awful piece of mischief, --is that it?"

"Yes, Mother; but it's a truly awful one this time, and I'm the one toblame. "

"No, you're not!" broke in Marjorie; "at least, not entirely. I proposedthe game. "

"Well, " said Mrs. Maynard, "before you quarrel for the honor of thisdreadful deed, suppose you tell me what it is. "

For answer, King dragged the big picture out from behind the sofa, andMrs. Maynard's smile changed to a look of real dismay. 

"Oh, King!" she said; "that's your father's favorite engraving!"

"Yes'm, I know it. That's the awfullest part of it. But, Mother, it wasan accident. "

"Ah, yes, but an accident that ought not to have happened. It was anaccident brought about by your own wrong-doing. What possessed you totake that great picture down from the wall, and _why_ did you splash inkon it?"

So then all the children together told the whole story of the auctiongame. 

"But it was lots of fun!" Marjorie wound up, with great enthusiasm. "Delight is grand to play games with. She acts just like a grown-up lady. And Flip Henderson is funny too. "

"But Midget, " said her mother, "I can't let you go on with this JinksClub of yours, if you're always going to spoil things. "

"No, of course not. But, Mother, I don't think it will happen again. Andanyway, next time we're going to meet at Delight's. "

"That doesn't help matters any, my child. I'd rather you'd spoil mythings than Mrs. Spencer's, --if spoiling must be done. Well, the case istoo serious for me. I'll leave the whole matter to your father, --I hearhim coming up the steps now. "

Soon Mr. Maynard entered the room, and found his whole family groupedround the ruined picture. 

"Wowly--wow-wow!" he exclaimed. "Has there been an earthquake? Fornothing else could wreck my pet picture like that!"

"No, Father, " said King; "it wasn't an earthquake. I did it, --mostly. Wewere playing auction, and my foot got tangled up in the picture wire, andthe inkstand upset, and smashed the glass, and--and I'm awful sorry. "

King was too big a boy to cry, but there was a lump in his throat, as hesaw his father's look of real regret at the loss of his valued picture. 

"Tell me all about it, son. Was it mischief?"

"I'm afraid it was. But we took all the things in the room to playauction with, and somehow I took that down from the wall withoutthinking. And, of course, I didn't know it was going to get broken. "

"No, King; but if you had stopped to think, you would have known that it_might_ get broken?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Then it would have been wiser and kinder to leave it upon the wall, outof harm's way?"

"Yes, Father; much better. I didn't think. Oh, --I know that's no excuse, but that's, --well, it's the reason. "

"And a very poor reason, my boy. The worthwhile man is the man who thinksin time. Thinking afterward doesn't mend broken things, --or take outinkstains. Of course, the broken glass is a mere trifle, that could havebeen easily replaced. But the engraving itself is ruined by the ink. "

"Couldn't it be restored?" asked King, hopefully. He was not quitecertain what "restored" meant, but he knew his father had had it done tosome pictures. 

Mr. Maynard smiled. "No, King, a paper engraving cannot be restored. Whatis that number pasted on it for?"

"We numbered all the things, so as to make it like a real auction, " saidMarjorie. 

Mr. Maynard glanced round the room. 

"You rascally children!" he cried; "if you haven't stuck papers on allthe vases and bric-a-brac in the room! And on this tree-calf Tennyson, asI live! Oh, my little Maynards! Did anybody ever have such a brood asyou?"

Mr. Maynard dropped his head in his hands in apparent despair, but thechildren caught the amused note in his voice, and the twinkle in his eye, as he glanced at his wife. 

"Well, here you are!" he said, as he raised his head again, "for apunishment you must get all those numbers off without injury to thethings they're pasted on. This will mean much care and patience, for youmust not use water on books or anything that dampness will harm. Thosemust be picked off in tiny bits with a sharp penknife. "

"Oh, we'll do it, Father!" cried Marjorie, "and we'll be just ascareful!"

"Indeed you must. You've done enough havoc already. As to the picture, King, we'll say no more about it. You're too big a boy now to bepunished; so we'll look upon it as a matter between man and man. I knowyou appreciate how deeply I regret the loss of that picture, and I wellknow how sorry you feel about it yourself. The incident is closed. "

Mr. Maynard held out his hand to his son, and as King grasped it he feltthat his father's manly attitude in the matter was a stronger reproof anda more efficacious lesson to him than any definite punishment could be. 

After dinner the three children went to work to remove the pastednumbers. 

A few, which were on glass vases, or porcelain, or metal ornaments, couldbe removed easily by soaking with a damp cloth; but most of them were onplaster casts, or polished wood, or fine book bindings and required thegreatest care in handling. 

When bed-time came the task was not half finished, and Marjorie'sshoulders were aching from close application to the work. 

"Sorry for you, kiddies, " said Mr. Maynard, as they started for bed, "butif you dance, you must pay the piper. Perhaps a few more evenings willfinish the job, and then we'll forget all about it. "

Mr. Maynard, though not harsh, was always firm, and the children wellknew they had the work to do, and must stick patiently at it till it wasfinished. 

"Good-night, Father, " said King, "and thank you for your confidence inme. I'll try to deserve it hereafter. "

"Good-night, my boy. We all have to learn by experience, and when youwant my help, it's yours. "

The straightforward glance that passed between father and son meant muchto both, and King went off to bed, feeling that, if not quite a grownman, he was at least a child no longer in his father's estimation. 

After the children had gone, Mr. Maynard picked out the most delicate orvaluable of the "auction" goods, and began himself to remove the pastednumbers. 

"Partly to help the kiddies, " he said to his wife, "and partly because Iknow they'd spoil these things. It's all I can do to manage themsuccessfully myself. "

Next morning at breakfast Mrs. Maynard said; "Well, Midget, now you're athome again, what about starting back to school?"

"Oh, Mother!" said Marjorie, looking disconsolate. And then, for she didnot want to be naughty about it, she added: "All right; I s'pose I mustgo, so I will. But as to-day's Friday I can wait till Monday, can't I?"

Mrs. Maynard smiled. "Yes, I think you may till Monday, if you want to. But are you sure you want to?"

"'Deed I _am_ sure!"

"And nothing would make you want to go to-day, instead of waiting tillMonday?"

"No, _ma'am_! no-_thing_!" and Midget actually pounded the table with herknife-handle, so emphatic was she. 

"You tell her, Fred, " said Mrs. Maynard, smiling at her husband. 

"Well, Madcap Mopsy, " said her father, "try to bear up under this newmisfortune; your mother and I have planned a plan, and this is it. Howwould you like it, instead of going to school any more, --I mean to MissLawrence, --to go every day to lessons with Delight and Miss Hart?"

Marjorie sat still a minute, trying to take it in. It seemed too good tobe true. 

Then dropping her knife and fork, she left her chair and flew round toher father's place at table. 

Seeing the whirlwind coming, Mr. Maynard pushed back his own chair justin time to receive a good-sized burden of delighted humanity that threwitself round his neck and squeezed him tight. 

"Oh, Father, Father, Father! do you really mean it? Not go to school anymore at all! And have lessons every day with that lovely Miss Hart, andmy dear Delight? Oh, Father, you're _such_ a duck!"

"There, there, my child! Don't strangle me, or I'll take it all back!"

"You can't now! You've said it! Oh, I'm so glad! Can I start to-day?"

"Oho!" said Mrs. Maynard; "who was it that said _nothing_ could make herwant to go to-day instead of Monday?"

Marjorie giggled. "But who could have dreamed you meant this?" she cried, leaving her father and flying to caress her mother. "Oh, Mumsie, won't itbe lovely! Oh, I am _so_ happy!"

"If not, you're a pretty good imitation of a happy little girl, " said herfather; "and now if you'll return to your place and finish yourbreakfast, we'll call it square. "

"Square it is, then, " said Marjorie, skipping back to her place; "Kit, did you ever hear of anything so lovely!"

"Never, " said Kitty, "for you. I'd rather go to school and be with thegirls. "

"I didn't mind when Gladys was here, but I've hated it ever since I wasalone. But to study with Miss Hart, --oh, goody! Is she willing, Mother?"

"Of course, I've discussed it with her and with Mrs. Spencer. Indeed, Mrs. Spencer proposed the plan herself, when I was over there yesterday. She and Miss Hart think it will be good for Delight to have some one withher. So, Midge, you must be a good girl, and not teach Delight all sortsof mischief. "

"Oh, yes, Mother, I'll be so good you won't know me. Can I start to-day?"

"Yes, if you're sure you want to. "

"Want to? I just guess I do!" and Midget danced upstairs to dress for"school. "

The plan worked admirably. Miss Hart was not only a skilled teacher, buta most tactful and clever woman, and as she really loved her two littlepupils, she taught them so pleasantly that they learned without drudgery. 

As the clock hands neared nine every morning, there were no more longdrawn sighs from Marjorie, but smiles and cheery good-byes, as the littlegirl gaily left the house and skipped across the street. 

The daily association, too, brought her into closer friendship withDelight, and the two girls became real chums. Their natures were sodifferent, that they reacted favorably on one another, and under MissHart's gentle and wise guidance the two girls improved in every way. 

It was one day in the very last part of February that Midge came home tofind a letter for her on the hall table. 

"From Gladys, " she cried and tore it open. 

"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed, "I didn't think! Miss Hart told me neverto open a letter with my finger, but to wait till I could get aletter-opener. Well, it's too late now, I'll remember next time. "

She looked ruefully at the untidy edges of the envelope, but pulled theletter out and began to read it. 

"DEAR MARJORIE:

"I'm coming to see you, that is, if you want me to. Father has to goEast, and he will leave me at your house while he goes to New York. Iwill get there on Friday and stay four days. I will be glad to see youagain. 

"Sincerely yours, "GLADYS FULTON. "

Marjorie smiled at the stiff formal letter, which was the sort Gladysalways wrote, and then she went in search of her mother. 

"Gladys is coming on Friday, " she announced. 

"That's very nice, my dear, " said Mrs. Maynard; "you'll be so glad to seeher again, won't you?"

"Yes, " said Midget, but she said it slowly, and with a troubled look inher eyes. 

"Well, what is it, dear? Tell Mother. "

"I don't know exactly, --but somehow I'm not so awfully pleased to haveGladys come. You see, she may not like Delight, and I want them to likeeach other. "

"Why do you want them to?"

"_Why_ do I? Mother, what a funny question! Why, I want them to like eachother because I like them both. "

"But you don't seem anxious lest Delight won't like Gladys. "

"Oh, of course she'll like her! Delight is so sweet and amiable, she'dlike anybody that I like. But Gladys is, --well, --touchy. "

"Which do you care more for, dearie?"

"Mothery, that's just what bothers me I'm getting to like Delight betterand better. And that doesn't seem fair to Gladys, for she's my oldfriend, and I wouldn't be unloyal to her for anything. So you see, Idon't know which I like best. "

"Well, Marjorie, I'll tell you. In the first place, you mustn't take itso seriously. Friendships among children are very apt to change when onemoves away and another comes. Now both these little girls are your goodfriends, but it stands to reason that the one you're with every dayshould be nearer and dearer than one who lives thousands of miles away. So I want you to enjoy Delight's friendship, and consider her yourdearest friend, if you choose, without feeling that you are disloyal toGladys. "

"Could I, Mother?"

"Certainly, dear. That is all quite right. Now, when Gladys comes, for afew days, you must devote yourself especially to her, as she will be yourhouse-guest; and if she and Delight aren't entirely congenial, then youmust exclude Delight while Gladys is here. You may not like to do this, and it may not be necessary, but if it is, then devote yourself toGladys' pleasure and preferences, because it is your duty. To be a goodhostess is an important lesson for any girl or woman to learn, and youare not too young to begin. "

"Shall I tell Delight I'm going to do this?"

"Not before Gladys comes. They may admire each other immensely; thenthere will be no occasion to mention it. When is Gladys coming?"

"On Friday. That's only three days off. "

"Then we must begin to plan a little for her pleasures. As she will onlybe here four days, we can't do very much. Suppose we have a little partySaturday afternoon, then she can meet all her Rockwell friends. "

"Yes, that will be lovely. And I do hope she and Delight will like eachother. "

"Why of course they will, Midget. There's no reason why they shouldn't. "

CHAPTER XIX

A VISIT FROM GLADYS

Gladys came Friday afternoon and Marjorie welcomed her with open arms, truly happy to see her friend again. 

"Tell me all about your new home, Glad, " said Midge, as the two settledthemselves on either end of the sofa for a chat. 

"Oh, it's just lovely, Mops. It's like summer all the time. And theflowers are in bloom all about, and the birds sing in the trees, andeverybody wears white dresses and summer hats even in February. "

"That _is_ lovely. And is your father getting better?"

"Yes, some better. He just _had_ to come to New York on some business, but the doctor said he must not stay but a few days. So we have to startback on Tuesday. "

"It's a shame. I wish you could stay longer. "

"So do I. But I'm glad to go back, too. I go to a lovely school there, and I know the nicest girls and boys. "

"Nicer than Rockwell children?"

"Oh, I don't know. Yes, I guess so. My most intimate friend is a lovelygirl. Her name is Florence Lawton. Isn't that a pretty name?"

"Why, Gladys Fulton! I'm your most intimate friend! Do you like herbetter than me?"

Gladys' eyes opened wide. 

"Midget Maynard, " she said, "what do you mean? Of course you were my bestfriend here, but when I'm out there don't you s'pose I've got to havesomebody else to play with and to tell secrets to?"

Somehow this idea made Midget's heart lighter. It justified her in takingDelight as a chum in Gladys' place. 

"Yes, of course, " she responded. "Our letters don't seem to amount tomuch, do they, Glad?"

"No, I'm no good at all at writing letters. Don't you have any chum in myplace, Mopsy?"

"Why, yes, I s'pose I do, " said Marjorie, slowly, for it was justbeginning to dawn on her that Delight _had_ taken Gladys' place. "I'mawfully good friends with Delight Spencer, who lives in the house youused to live in. "

"Delight! what a pretty name. "

"Yes, and she's an awfully pretty girl. You'll see her while you're here, of course. "

Very soon the first strangeness of the reunion was over, and the two werechatting away as gaily as if they had never been separated. 

Then Delight came over. She had promised Marjorie she'd come over to seeGladys, but she came rather unwillingly. The truth is, she felt a littlejealous of Marjorie's older friend, and was not prepared to like her. 

Delight was dressed in some of her prettiest clothes, and the big blackvelvet hat on her fair golden hair made a lovely picture. 

Gladys thought she was beautiful, and welcomed her warmly, but Delight, when introduced, seemed to shrink back into herself and sat stiffly onthe edge of a chair, holding her muff and saying nothing. 

"Oh, Delight, " cried Midget, "don't act like that. Take off your things, and let's play. "

"No, I can't stay but a few minutes, " said Delight, primly. 

She sat there, looking very uncomfortable, and though Midge and Gladystried to make her more chummy, they didn't succeed. 

Finally, Delight rose to go, and as Gladys didn't care much for such aspoil sport, she said nothing to detain her. Midget went to the door withher, and as Delight went out she turned to Midge, with her eyes full oftears, and said: "You like her better than you do me, so I'll go. "

"Go on, then, " said Marjorie, utterly exasperated by such foolishness, asshe considered it. 

"What ails her?" said Gladys, as Marjorie returned. 

"Why, I suppose it's because you're here. She never acted that waybefore. You see, she's a spoiled child, and she always wants everythingher own way. It's awfully funny, Gladys, but I thought maybe you wouldn'tlike her and here it's the other way about!"

"Oh, I like her, or at least I would if she'd let me. I think she's theprettiest girl I ever saw. Don't you?"

"Yes, I do. And she's awfully nice, too, if she didn't have this tantrumabout you. "

"Oh, well, she'll get over it, " returned Gladys; "I shan't be here long, anyway. "

The day after Gladys' arrival was the first Saturday in March. 

First Saturdays were usually "Ourdays, " when Mr. Maynard took a whole dayfrom his business and devoted it to the entertainment of his children. 

It was King's turn to choose how the day should be spent, but, as a partyin honor of Gladys had been arranged for the afternoon, there was onlythe morning to choose for. 

They were all discussing the matter the night before, and King kindlyoffered to give his turn to one of the girls, that they might choosesomething to please Gladys. 

"No, indeed, " said Midget. "We like boys' fun as well as girls' fun; soyou choose ahead, King. "

"All right, then. If you girls agree, I'd like to build a snow fort. Thisis a jolly deep snow, the best we've had this winter, and likely the lastwe'll have. Father's a jim dandy at snow games, and we could have anout-of-door frolic in the morning, and then Glad's party in the house inthe afternoon. "

"Goody! I say yes to that, " cried Midget. 

"I too, " said Gladys. "We don't have any snow in California, and I don'tknow when I'll see any again. "

"I'm satisfied, " said Kitty, "can I ask Dorothy over?"

"Yes, " said Mr. Maynard; "ask anybody you choose. "

So next morning, soon after breakfast, the children put on all thewarmest wraps they could find, and in tam o'shanter caps, tippets, mittens and leggings, started out for their Ourday fun. 

The snow was more than a foot deep all over the great lawn, and Mr. Maynard selected a fine place for a fort. He taught the boys, --for Kinghad asked Flip to come over, --how to cut and pack great blocks of solidsnow, and the girls he showed how to make balls and cones for decoration. 

Once Midget caught sight of Delight peeping across at them from behind acurtain. "I'm going over to ask her to come, " she said; "I didn't ask herbefore, because I thought she wouldn't come. But, I believe she will. "

So Midge scampered across the street and rang the Spencer's door bell. 

"Won't you come over?" she said, as soon as she saw Delight. "It's anOurday, and we're having such fun!"

"No, thank you, " said Delight; "you don't need me when you have Gladys. "

"Don't be silly!" said Midget. "What's the reason I can't play with youboth? Come on. "

"Oh, I don't want to come, " said Delight pettishly. "Go on back. "

So Marjorie went back, alone, walking slowly, for she couldn't understandDelight's behavior. 

But once again in the fun of the snow play, she forgot all about herill-natured little neighbor. 

They built a grand fort, with a flag waving from its summit, and thenwith soft snowballs for ammunition, they chose sides and had the merriestkind of a battle. Afterward they built a snow man and a snow woman. 

These were of heroic size, so big that Mr. Maynard had to climb astep-ladder to put their heads in place. 

The man, according to the time-honored tradition of all snow men, wore abattered old high hat, and had a pipe in his mouth, while the old womanwore a sun bonnet and checked apron. 

They were comical figures, indeed, and when they were completed it wastime to go in to luncheon, and Dorothy and Flip scampered for theirhomes. 

"Now, gentlemen of the jury, " said Mr. Maynard, at the lunch table, "aswe have still two good hours before it's time to array ourselves inpurple and fine linen for the party, suppose we continue our outdoorsports and go for a sleigh ride? It's up to you, King. "

"Fine!" agreed King. "If it suits the ladies of the castle. "

"It do, " said Kitty; "the ladies fair would fain go for a sleigh ride. May I ask Dorothy?"

"Not this time, Kittums, " said her father. "I've ordered a big doublesleigh, and we'll just fill it comfortably. "

And so they did, with Mr. And Mrs. Maynard on the wide back seat and RosyPosy between, them; Midget, Gladys, and Kitty facing them, and King up onthe box with the driver. 

A span of big powerful horses took them flying over the snow, and thecrisp, keen air made their cheeks rosy and their eyes bright. 

It was a fine sleigh ride, and the jingling bells made a merryaccompaniment to the children's chatter and laughter. 

"Ice cream, Kitty?" asked her father as they entered a small town, anddrew up before the funny little inn that was its principal hostelry--

"No, sir!" said Kitty, whose teeth were chattering, "it's too cold!"

"Well, I never expected to live long enough to hear Kitty say no to icecream!" exclaimed Mrs. Maynard in surprise. 

"It's a cold day when that happens, isn't it Kit?" asked her father. "Well, jump out then, and stamp your toes, and thaw your ears. "

They all went into the little inn, and warmed themselves by the fire, andhad a drink of hot milk or hot soup, as they preferred, and then bundledback into the sleigh for the homeward ride. 

"I'm not cold now, " said Kitty, cuddling into the fur robes. 

The horses dashed back again over the snow, and soon after three o'clockthey were at home. 

The party was at four, so there was ample time to get ready. 

"What kind of a party is it to be father?" asked Midge. "Any specialkind?"

"Special kind?" said Mr. Maynard; "I should say so! It's an animal party, to be sure!"

"An animal party?" said Gladys, to Midge, as they went upstairs to dress;"what does he mean?"

"I don't know. You never can tell what Father's going to do. Especiallyon an Ourday. He always gets up lovely things for Ourdays. "

"He's a jolly man, " said Gladys; "I never saw anybody like him. "

"Nor I either, " agreed Midge; "I think he's just perfect. "

The little girls all wore white dresses, each with a different coloredribbon, and were all ready, and sitting in state, at ten minutes beforethe hour appointed for the party. 

"Isn't Delight coming, Mopsy?" asked Mrs. Maynard. 

"No, mother; I just telephoned her, and she won't come. She's acting upfoolish about Glad, you know. "

"Indeed it _is_ foolish, " said Mrs. Maynard, looking annoyed; "I thinkI'll run over there and see what I can do. "

"Oh, do, Mother; you always make everything come out all right. "

"But I don't know whether I can make a silly little girl come out allright; however, I'll try. "

Mrs. Maynard threw on some wraps and went over to the house across thestreet. 

What arguments she used, or what she said to Delight, Marjorie neverknew, but she returned, after a time, bringing both Delight and Miss Hartwith her. 

Delight made a beautiful picture in a filmy, lacy white frock, and a bigblue bow on her golden curls. 

"Hello, Flossy Flouncy!" cried King, and this broke the ice, and made iteasier for Delight than a more formal greeting would have done. 

"Hello, Old King Cole!" she responded, and then a number of other peoplecame, and a general hubbub of conversation ensued. 

"This is an animal party, " said Mr. Maynard, when all the guests hadarrived. Now where were the most animals ever gathered together?"

"In the circus!" cried one boy, and another said, "In the menagerie. "

"Try again, " said Mr. Maynard; "not right yet!"

"Hippodrome, " shouted somebody, and "zoo!" cried somebody else, but toeach Mr. Maynard shook his head. 

"Go farther back, " he said; "what was the first collection of animals inthe world?"

And then Delight thought what he meant, and cried out, "Noah's Ark!"

"Of course!" said Mr. Maynard. "That's the place I meant. Well, then, here's an ark for each of you, and you can each play you're Noah. "

He whisked a table cover off of a table by his side, and there was agreat pile of toy Noah's arks. King and Flip distributed them, untileverybody had one. 

"Why, they're empty?" cried Midge, looking into hers. 

"They won't be long, " said her father. "Now, young people, scatter, andfill your arks with animals. Pretend you're hunting in the jungle, orwhatever you like, but capture all the animals you can find for yourarks. There are hundreds in these two rooms and the halls. "

"Hidden?" asked Kitty. 

"Yes, hidden and in plain sight, both. But wait; there's a schedule. "

Mr. Maynard unfolded a paper, and read:

"Elephants count five, tigers ten, lions fifteen, bears five, kangaroosfive, cats five; all two-legged animals or birds two, fishes one, camelstwenty-five, and zebras fifty. After your arks are filled, we'll countthem up according to schedule, and award prizes. Now, scoot!" Theyscooted, and spent a merry half hour hunting the animals. They found themin all sorts of places, --tucked in behind curtains, under sofa-pillows, between books, and round among the bric-a-brac on mantels and tables. They were the little wooden animals that belonged in the arks, and thechildren were greatly amused when they discovered, also, the small, queerlittle people that represent Noah and his family. 

"I s'pose as these are two-legged animals they count as birds, " saidKing. 

"Yes, " said Mr. Maynard, "all bipeds count alike. "

As Marjorie made a dive for a tiger which she saw in the lower part ofthe hall hatrack, somebody else dived for it at the very same moment. 

It was Delight, and both girls sat suddenly down on the floor, laughingat their bumped heads. 

But when Delight saw that it was Midget, she stopped laughing and lookedsober, and even sour. 

"Don't, Delight, " said Marjorie, gently, and putting her arms round herfriend, she kissed her lovingly. 

This melted Delight's foolish little heart, and she whispered, "Oh, Midge, you do like me best, don't you?"

But Midge was in no mood for emotional demonstration down under thehatrack, so she scrambled up, saying, "I shan't if you act as foolish asyou have done. You behave decently to Gladys and to me, and then seewhat'll happen. "

With this Midge calmly walked away and collected more animals, whileDelight, rather stunned by this summary advice, jumped up and went afteranimals, too. 

At last the collecting was over and the children brought their arks toMr. Maynard. With Miss Hart to help him, it didn't take very long tofigure out the schedule value of each ark-full, and prizes were given tothose three whose score was highest. 

Flip Henderson had first prize, and Delight had second, while the thirdwent to Harry Frost. Delight was greatly pleased, and Marjorie was glad, too, for she thought it might make her more amiable. 

But that wasn't the reason; the real reason was because Midge had kissedher, and then had scolded her roundly. This combination of treatmentaffected the strange little heart of Delight, and she began at once to benice and pleasant to Gladys and to everybody. 

The next game was like Jackstraws, but it wasn't Jackstraws. 

All the ark-fulls of animals were emptied out into a heap on the table, and the children sat round. Each was given a teaspoon, and with this theymust remove as many animals as possible without moving any other than theone touched. They might use either end of the teaspoon, but must not usetheir fingers. 

The animals counted as in the former schedule and as each was picked fromthe pile it was given to Miss Hart, and she credited it to the player whotook it. 

Of course, as in Jackstraws, if one made a mis-play it was the nextplayer's turn. This game was great fun, and they watched each otherbreathlessly, though careful not to joggle anybody. 

"Now, Flossy Flouncy, " cried King, "it's your turn. In you go! Catch acamel first thing!"

Delight was a little embarrassed at King's raillery, but she was boundshe wouldn't show it, and her slim little white fingers grasped theteaspoon firmly. 

She only took off a few, for the excitement of it made her nervous andher hand shook. But she was glad she didn't win a prize in that game, fornobody likes to win two prizes at the same party. 

CHAPTER XX

CHESSY CATS

After that game they played several other animal games, some quiet andsome noisy, and then Mr. Maynard announced that they would play "ChessyCats. "

"What in the world is that?" said Gladys to King. "I never heard of it. "

"Nor I, " he responded; "probably Father made it up. Well, we'll soonsee. "

Mr. Maynard chose two captains, one being Gladys, as it was really herparty, and the other Flip Henderson. 

These two captains were asked to stand opposite each other at the end ofthe room, and to "choose sides. "

"You must each, " said Mr. Maynard, "choose the girls or boys who seem toyou most like Chessy Cats. "

This advice was not very intelligible, but as it was Gladys' turn tochoose first, she chose King. 

Then Flip chose Marjorie, as it seemed to him polite to take his hostess. 

Then in a burst of good feeling Gladys chose Delight, and though shewanted to refuse, she stifled her ill-nature and stood up next to King. 

Then the choosing went on until all were taken, and the two long linesstood on either side of the room. 

"You see, " said Mr. Maynard, "this is a contest of happiness. I want tosee which line of children represents the greater amount of merriment. Will you all please smile?"

Every face broke into a grin, and Mr. Maynard looked at themthoughtfully. 

"You all seem happy, " he said; "a fine lot of Chessy Cats. You knowChessy Cats are remarkable for their wide grins. But as I have a prizefor the side that shows most grin, I have to be careful of my decision. Miss Hart, if you will help me, I think we'll have to find out _exactly_which row of Chessy Cats grins the widest. "

Miss Hart, smiling like a Chessy Cat herself, came forward with a lot ofshort strips of white paper in her hand. She gave half of these to Mr. Maynard, and then the fun began. 

They actually measured each child's grin, marking on the paper with apencil the exact length of each mouth from corner to corner as it wasstretched in a smile. Of course a fresh paper was used for each, and wideindeed was the grin when the grinner realized the absurdity of having hissmile measured!

Then, of course, each tried to grin his very widest, for the success ofhis line and the glory of his captain. Delight's little rosebud mouthcouldn't make a very wide grin, but she stretched it as wide as possible, showing her pretty white teeth, and held it motionless while it wasmeasured. 

It was astonishing how wide some of them could stretch their smilingmouths, and how absurd they looked while standing stock still to bemeasured. Their ridiculous grimaces caused shouts of laughter from theChessy Cats who were not being measured at the moment. 

"Midget! she's the one that counts!" cried King. "She's got a smile likean earthquake! Flossy Flouncy, here, she won't count half as much!"

Marjorie only laughed at King's comment, and spread her rosy lips in adesperate effort to beat the record. 

At last all were measured, and taking a pair of scissors, Miss Hartclipped the ends off the papers where the mark was, and thus each paperrepresented the exact width of a smile. 

The papers of each side were then placed end to end, and the whole lengthmeasured. The result was fifty-four inches of smile for Flip's side, andfifty-two for Gladys'. 

"Hooray, Mopsy!" cried King. "I knew your mouth was two inches biggerthan Delight's!"

"Oh, no, brother, " rejoined Midge, "it's because your mouth is so tinyyou can't smile very well!"

But whatever the reason, there was a good two inches difference in theaggregate, so Flip Henderson's side was the winner. 

"As all the Chessy Cats grinned nobly, you must all have prizes, " saidMr. Maynard, and so to the winning side were given boxes of candy with afunny figure of a grinning Chessy Cat on top. Both boxes and cats werebright red, and gay little prizes they were. 

"But as the other side were too sad and solemn to grin broadly, we'llgive them black cats, " said Mr. Maynard, and all of Gladys' line receivedprizes exactly like the others, except that the cats were black. Ofcourse, they were equally pretty and desirable, and were really souvenirsof the party instead of prizes. 

Then they all went to the dining-room for supper. Miss Hart played amerry march on the piano, and King, escorting Gladys, went first, Marjorie and Flip followed, and then all the children came, two by two. 

To carry out the idea of an "animal party, " the table had been cleverlyarranged to represent a farmyard. All the middle part of it was enclosedby a little fence that ran along just inside the plates, and in theenclosure were toy animals of all sorts. Downy yellow chickens, furrycats, woolly sheep, and comical roosters stood about in gay array. Alsothere were Teddy Bears, and possums and even lions and tigers, whichthough not usually found in farmyards, seemed amicably disposed enough. Adelightful feast was eaten, and then, for dessert, Sarah brought in agreat platter of ice cream in forms of animals. And with these animalscrackers were served, and many merry jests were made as the children bitoff the heads of ferocious wild beasts, or stabbed the ice cream animalswith their spoons. As they left the table, each guest was invited to takeone animal from the "farmyard, " to carry away. 

Rosy Posy announced frankly, "Don't anybuddy take de Teddy Bear, 'causeme wants it. "

They all laughed, and needless to say, the bear was left for the baby, whose turn came last. 

Delight chose a little white kitten, with a blue ribbon round its neck, and Gladys took a fierce-looking tiger. 

Everybody agreed they had never attended a jollier party, and the smiles, as they said good-bye, were indeed of the Chessy Cat variety. 

"Ourday isn't over yet, Father, " said Midge, after the last guest hadgone. 

"Oho, I think it's time little Chessy Cats went to bed, " said Mr. Maynard. 

"No, indeed! the party was from four to seven, and though they staid alittle later, it's only half-past seven now. And Ourday nights we alwaysstay up till half-past eight. "

"My stars! a whole hour more of Chessy Cats! That's enough to make anyone grin. All right Midgety, what do you want me to do?"

"It's King's choose, " said Marjorie; "it's his Ourday, you know. "

So King chose "Twenty Questions, " a game of which he never tired, and ajolly hour they all spent in playing it. 

Then bedtime was definitely announced, and it was a lot of rather tiredChessy Cats who climbed the stairs, after many and repeated good-nights. 

As Gladys' visit was to be such a short one Mrs. Maynard advised Midgetnot to go to lessons during her stay. 

Marjorie was a little disappointed at this, but she couldn't very well gooff and leave Gladys, and it would have been awkward to take her, so shestaid away herself. The two girls had good times, and both Mr. And Mrs. Maynard planned many pleasant things for their enjoyment, but stillMarjorie was not altogether sorry when on Tuesday Gladys took herdeparture. 

"What's this fuss about Gladys and Delight?" asked Mr. Maynard, as theyall sat chatting Tuesday evening. 

"Oh, Father, it's so silly!" said Marjorie; "I don't know what to make ofDelight. It isn't a bit Glad's fault. She was as sweet as pie; butDelight was as sour as buttermilk. "

"She's jealous, I suppose. "

"Yes, I suppose that's it. But, you see, Father, she's a different girlfrom us. "

"Different how?"

"Oh, I don't know exactly. But she's sort of a spoiled child, you know, and whatever she has, she hates to have any one else touch it. "

"Even you. "

"Yes, even me. I like Delight an awful lot, but I like Gladys too. "

"Of course you do. Now, Midget, listen to your old and wise Father. Forget all this foolishness. Gladys is gone now, and Delight is your verygood friend, your best friend in Rockwell. Just keep on being friendswith her, and do all you can to be a good friend. Don't discuss Gladyswith her, don't discuss her actions, or her jealousy, or whateverfoolishness is in her pretty little noddle. You are both too young totake these things seriously. But if you are a kind, loyal little friendto her, she will soon learn to be the same to you. "

"But, Father, she wants me all to herself. She doesn't like to have me befriends with the other girls in Rockwell even. "

"That you mustn't stand. Just go on in your own way. Be friendly withwhom you choose, but always be kind and considerate of Delight'sfeelings. Of course, you two having your lessons alone together islargely responsible for this state of things. School would be better foryou both in many ways. But you like the present arrangement, and MissHart is a blessing to you both. I think she can help you in persuadingDelight to be a little less exacting. "

"Yes, Father, she does; she understands the case, and she's always tryingto make Delight less selfish. "

"And perhaps, --I hate to suggest it, --but _possibly_ Miss Mopsy Maynard_might_ have some little tiny speck of a fault, --just a microscopic flawin her character--"

"Now, Father, don't tease! I know I have! I'm a bad, impulsive, mischievous old thing, and I never think in time, --then the first thing Iknow I've done something awful! Delight's not a bit like that. "

"Oh, you needn't give yourself such a dreadful character. I know youpretty well, and I'm quite pleased, on the whole, with my eldestdaughter. But I do want you to learn to be a little less heedless; youknow heedlessness is, after all, a sort of selfishness, --a disregard ofothers' convenience. "

"I'm going to try, Father. I'll try real hard, and if I don't succeed, I'll try, try again. "

"That's my good little Mopsy. Now, skip to bed, and don't let theseserious matters keep you awake. Forget them, and dream of fairies andprincesses dressed in pearls and roses and all sorts of lovely things. "

"And blue velvet robes trimmed with ermine?"

"Yes, and golden sceptres, and swanboats to ride in on lakes where pondlilies bloom. "

"And golden chariots, with milk white steeds, garlanded with flowers. "

"Yes, --and that's about all; good-night. "

"And enchanted carpets that carry you in a minute to India and Arabia. "

"Yes, and upstairs to bed! Good-night. "

"And knights in armor, with glittering spears--"

"Good-night, Marjorie Maynard!"

"Good-night, Father. And rose-gardens with fountains and singing birds--"

"Skip, you rascal! Scamper, fly, scoot! Good-night for the last time!"

"Good-night, " called Marjorie, half way up-stairs, "good-night, Fatherdear. "

"Good-night, Midget, good-night. "