izabeth! somebody! come here this moment!"

Elizabeth obeyed the imperious summons, and as she reached the foot of
the stairs, Rita's voice broke out again.

"Why has no coffee been brought to me? I never saw such carelessness.
There is no bell in my room, either, and I have been calling till I am
hoarse."

"I am very sorry, miss!" replied Elizabeth quietly. "We supposed you
would come down to breakfast with the other young ladies. Shall I bring
you a cup of tea now? There is no coffee in the house, as Mr. Montfort
never drinks it."

"_No coffee!_" cried Rita. "I _have_ come to a wilderness! Well--bring
the tea! and have it strong, do you hear?" And the young Cuban swept
back into her room, and shut the door with more vehemence than good
breeding strictly allowed.

Margaret listened in distressed silence to this colloquy. Peggy giggled
and chuckled. "Aha!" she said, "I'm so glad she didn't get the coffee.
Greedy thing! Please hand me the muffins, Margaret. How small they are!
The idea of her having her breakfast in bed!" and Peggy sniffed, and
helped herself largely to marmalade.

"Perhaps her head aches still," said peace-loving Margaret.

"Don't believe a word of it!" cried Peggy. "She's used to being waited
on by darkeys, and she thinks it will be just the same here. That's
all!"

Margaret thought this was probably true, but she did not say so,
preferring the safer remark that it was a delightful day.

"When you have finished your breakfast," she said, "we will go out into
the garden. I can see a bit of it from here, and it looks lovely. Oh! I
can just catch a glimpse of the swing. I wonder if it is the same old
one. I love to swing, don't you?"

"I like shinning better!" said Peggy, putting half a muffin in her
mouth. "Can you shin?"

"Shin! what--oh! up a tree, you mean. I'm afraid not."

"I can!" said Peggy triumphantly. "I can beat most of the boys at it,
only Ma won't let me do it, on account of my clothes. Says I'm too old,
too; bother! I'm not going to be a primmy, just because I am fifteen.
How old are you, Margaret?"

"Seventeen; and as two years make a great difference, you know, Peggy, I
shall put on all the airs of an elder sister. You know the Elder
Sister's part,--

"Good advice and counsel sage,
And 'I never did so when I was your age!'"

"All right!" said Peggy. "I'll call you elder sister. Ma always says I
ought to have had one, instead of being one."

"Well, first c