you, Lilias."

"How sweet of Maggie!" replied Lilias. "I do think she is one of the
very dearest little girls in the world. Of course I'm delighted to
have you with me, Ermengarde; but I only wish your father had brought
Maggie, too."

"And where is my special favorite, Basil?" asked Lady Russell, who had
been listening with an amused smile to the above conversation.

"Basil is not in my good graces at present," replied Mr. Wilton.
"Pardon me. I make no complaints. He was free to come, but he elected
to stay at home; under the circumstances, I think his choice was
wise."

Lady Russell and Mr. Wilton walked slowly away together, and Lilias
linked her hand affectionately through Ermengarde's arm.

"If there is a mystery, you will tell me about it presently," she
said, "and I am not going to worry you now. I am so pleased to have
you with me, Ermie, and there are a whole lot of things I am going to
consult you about. But first of all, just come to my grotto. I want
you to see in what a pretty pattern I have arranged the shells. Here
we are; enter, fair and welcome guest! Oh, you must stoop your tall
head a little, Ermie. Pride must bend when it enters a humble grotto
like mine. Now then, look around you."

Ermengarde was feeling tired, hot, and thirsty. She had hoped to have
been treated to nice grown-up tea in one of the drawing-rooms, and she
felt just a little annoyed at being carried off at once to look at
Lilias's stupid shells, or to behold the most charming grotto that was
ever built. Ermengarde had no love for natural history, and fond as
she was of Lilias, she felt just a wee bit cross.

But the moment she entered the grotto, the clouds fled like magic from
her face. There were shells, of course, and sea-weeds, and a deep
pool which contained sea-anemones; and into which a fountain
continually dripped. But there was also tea on a charming little
rustic table, and two rustic easy-chairs, and two egg-shell china cups
and saucers, and a wee silver jug full of cream, and a dish of hot
muffins, and a little basket full of grapes and peaches.

Lilias watched her friend's face.

"She wants her tea, poor Ermie does," she whispered to herself; "I
know Maggie would have rushed at the shells first of all, and she'd
have asked me a thousand questions about my sea-anemones and my
fountain. Still, it's perfectly natural that Ermie should be thirsty
and want her tea."

So the two little friends sat down, and had a