to read to me often. Do you
sing? I suppose you have not begun to play?"

"No, Mrs. Barrington thought I would, in the new term. And she also
thought my voice was--" Marguerite paused, afraid of being too
presuming.

"Worth cultivating, was not that what she said? It is a contralto that
can express profound depths of feeling. I had it years ago and your
father was wild over it. He will be delighted. Zay's voice is a light
soprano. She plays very well. Yes, you must take up music."

"Oh, mother, it doesn't seem as if so many lovely things should come to
me!"

"Why not, when you have been in the desert all these years?"

They clasped each other in a fond embrace. Oh, was it really true that
she was a daughter of the house, that she had a right to the love and
care? Could she ever give enough to repay?

There was a stir down stairs and some merry voices. Major Crawford
rejoined his wife presently.

"The two Chichester girls to see if the children are sure to go to the
Van Ordens, though I think their eagerness is most for Will," laughing.
"His gay time will soon be over. Zay's as well. Next week school will
begin, and Marguerite must come under rules. The chief one is that there
is no frollicking until Friday evening, no holiday until Saturday."

"Oh, I wish girls did not have to grow up so fast. Think how soon they
will be sixteen," bemoaned the mother.

"I kept another birthday," said Marguerite. "I am glad to go back even
the few months."

"You look as if you were beginning to feel at home," said her father.
"Oh, I hope we shall have many, many happy years together."

Marguerite's heart was too full to reply. She looked at him with eyes
like her mother's, only they were a little deeper.

Zay came flying up stairs.

"Have I neglected you all the afternoon? We found a bad rent in my
pretty frock and Aunt Kate had to change the skirt. Then I wanted to
write some letters and the days are so short."

She kissed her mother rapturously; then went and sat on her father's
knee.

"And the Chichesters want us to dinner tomorrow and a little dance
afterward. It is Will's last nibble at pleasure. Oh, why didn't you make
him choose some real business, you naughty father, so he could have
stayed at home like a respectable citizen."

"And had a sweetheart. Then what would you have done?"

"Looked up a sweetheart also. Oh, must he go Wednesday night?"

"Think what a nice long holiday he has had!"

"And think of