them both, her
rose-coloured draperies floating around her.

"I am truly sorry," she said, "to interrupt this torrent of eloquence. I
merely wish to say that I am going to bed. Good night, _chere
Marguerite! Senorita Calibana, je vous souhaite le bon soir!_ Continue,
I pray you, your thrilling disclosures as long as my cousin's ears can
contain them!" And with a mocking courtesy she swept away, leaving the
other two girls with an indefinable sense of guilt and disgrace. Poor
Peggy! She had been so happy, all her troubles forgotten, pouring out
her artless recital of home affairs; but now her face darkened, and she
looked sullen and unhappy again.

"Hateful thing!" she muttered. "I wish she was in Jericho!"

"Never mind, Peggy dear!" said Margaret as cheerfully as she could.
"Rita is very tired, and has a headache. It has been delightful to hear
about the brothers, and especially about Hugh; but I am sure we ought to
go to bed too. You must be quite tired out, and I am getting sleepy
myself."

She kissed her cousin affectionately, and arm in arm they went up the
great staircase.

CHAPTER III.

THE WHITE LADY OF FERNLEY.

Margaret was waked the next morning by the cheerful and persistent song
of a robin, which had perched on a twig just outside her window. She had
gone to bed in a discouraged frame of mind, and dreamed that her two
cousins had turned into lionesses, and were fighting together over her
prostrate body; but with the morning light everything seemed to
brighten, and the robin's song was a good omen.

"Thank you, Robin dear," she said aloud, as she brushed her long hair.
"I dare say everything will go well after a while, but just now, Robin,
I do assure you, things have a kittle look."

She was down first, as the night before; but Peggy soon appeared,
rubbing her eyes and looking still half asleep.

Breakfast was ready, and Peggy, at sight of the omelette and muffins,
was about to fling herself headlong into her chair; but Margaret held
her back a moment.

"Elizabeth," she said, hesitating, "is Mrs. Cheriton--is she not here? I
see you have put me at the head of the table again."

"Mrs. Cheriton seldom leaves her own rooms, miss," replied Elizabeth.
"She asked me to say that she would be glad to see the young ladies
after breakfast. And shall I call the other young lady, Miss Montfort?"

Before Margaret could reply, a clear voice was heard calling from above,
in impatient tones:

"El