an from the village came to do the actual washing. Then
there was the sermon to write and her wardrobe and drawers to tidy.
Lisbeth was very strict about the tidying. All these things gave Monday
an atmosphere prosaic in the extreme in Marjory's opinion. Now it would
be different; she could look forward to it because there would be
Blanche to compare notes with. She would make haste and finish her
duties, and then they could go off into the woods or on to the moor, as
free as air, and with no one to interfere with them. She went to bed
full of these plans, and feeling her heart overflowing with gratitude to
the great and loving Father who had given her such happiness.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE SECRET CHAMBER.

"'Tis now the very witching hour of night."

SHAKESPEARE.

Next morning, directly after breakfast, Marjory went as usual to her
room to signal to Blanche. Blanche was already at her window, waving
wildly with a handkerchief in each hand, which meant might she come up
at once. Marjory, all eagerness and excitement, waved back "yes,"
wondering what could be the reason for such an early visit. She was just
going to run down the garden to meet Blanche when she heard Lisbeth's
voice calling, "Hae ye coontit yer claes, Marjory? Jessie's waitin'."
She hastily collected her things together, and wrote, not in her best
writing, the list which Lisbeth always insisted upon, and which Marjory
always argued was quite unnecessary, as the clothes were washed at home,
and there was no other girl of her size at Hunters' Brae. Lisbeth
remained firm, and every week the list was made. Marjory was just adding
the last item when she heard Blanche's voice downstairs asking
breathlessly where she was. "Coming!" she cried, and rushed downstairs,
two steps at a time, to find Blanche capering up and down with
excitement.

"Such news!" she cried. "Something so exciting to tell you. You'll never
guess."

"What is it? Please don't make me guess. I can't wait." And Marjory
caught hold of her friend's arm, trying to make her stand still and tell
her news--a difficult task, for Blanche was almost beside herself with
excitement, and was also bent upon tantalizing Marjory. But Marjory's
arms were stronger than Blanche's, and she succeeded in making her stop
dancing about.

"There now, tell me," she cried, when Blanche was fairly pinioned
between her arms. "I shan't let you go till you do."

"Oh dear; then I must tell you, I suppose