have made whatever is wrong straight."

Marjorie stood looking very thoughtful.

"It's late, my dear, and you're tired," said the servant. "It seems a
shame to worry you. Hadn't you better go to bed?"

"Oh, don't, Hudson," said Marjorie. "What does it matter about my
going to bed, or even if I am a bit tired? I'm thinking about poor
Susy, and about Ermie. I've got a thought--I wonder--Hudson, I wish
father hadn't said so firmly that Ermengarde was not to see Susy
Collins."

"Well, missy, my master is in the right. Little ladies do themselves
no good when they make friends and equals of children like Susy. They
do themselves no good, and they do still more harm to the poor
children, whose heads get filled up with vain thoughts. But that's
neither here nor there, Miss Maggie, in the present case. Illness
alters everything, and levels all ranks, and if Miss Ermengarde was at
home, she ought to go and see Susy, and that without a minute's delay,
and your good father would be the very first to tell her so, Miss
Maggie."

"Then I know what I'll do," said Marjorie. "I'll go straight away this
minute to Miss Nelson, and ask her if _I_ may go and see Susy. I dare
say she'll let me--I'll try what I can do, anyhow. You run down and
tell Mrs. Collins, Hudson. I'm not Ermie, but I dare say Susy would
rather see me than no one."

Miss Nelson was writing letters in her own room, when Marjorie with a
flushed eager face burst in upon her. She made her request with great
earnestness. Miss Nelson listened anxiously.

"I will see Mrs. Collins," she said at last. The poor woman was
brought up to the governess's room, and at sight of her evident grief
Miss Nelson at once saw that she must act on her own independent
judgment, and explain matters by and by to Mr. Wilton.

"Ermengarde is away," she said to Mrs. Collins, "but if the case is
really serious, she can be sent for, and in the meantime I will take
Marjorie myself to the cottage, and if your little girl wishes to see
her, she can do so. Fetch your hat, Marjorie, dear, and a warm wrap,
for the dews are heavy to-night."

Marjorie was not long in getting herself ready, and twenty minutes
later the poor anxious mother and her two visitors found themselves in
the cottage.

"Look here, Mrs. Collins," said Marjorie, the moment they entered the
house. "I want you not to tell Susy I have come. I'd like to slip
upstairs very gently, and just see if I can do anything for her. I'll