che's flower-like face. "Ye're a
bit ower white like for health," she remarked.

Shyness was not a failing that afflicted either Lisbeth or Peter: they
were both apt to say exactly what they thought, regardless of time,
place, or person.

Marjory was delighted by Lisbeth's evident approval of her friend, and
felt very grateful to the old woman for putting on her "silk," which
only came out on great occasions; and when she saw the table daintily
spread with all sorts of good things, her satisfaction was complete.

"If ye want onything, just ring the bell and I'll come," said Lisbeth,
and she rustled slowly out of the room. That was what Marjory called
Lisbeth's "silk walk." Dressed in her ordinary gown she bustled and
clattered about, but in the silk she was as stately and dignified as a
duchess.

"I _am_ glad it isn't a ladies' tea," said Blanche as they took their
seats, Marjory at the head of the table to "pour out."

Marjory looked at her questioningly.

"I mean where there's nothing to sit up to--no place to put your cup and
plate except your own knee; and if you want to blow your nose or cough,
you're sure to spill your tea; and the bread and butter is always so
thin that it drops to pieces before you can fold it up. But this is
_lovely_; and it is so nice to have it all to ourselves!" And she
settled herself comfortably in her chair.

Marjory felt quite at her ease by this time, and the two girls chattered
gaily while they disposed of Lisbeth's good things.

Tea over, they started on a tour of inspection round the house. It had
been built by a Hunter long ago, and Hunters had lived in it ever since,
and had added to it in many ways; but there was still part of the
original building left--an old wing which was now unused. There were
various stories told in the village about this old part of the house.
Footsteps were heard sometimes, it was said, and lights had been seen in
the night by belated passers-by. Lisbeth and Peter knew of the tales
and wild rumours that were current in the neighbourhood, but they were
careful to say nothing to Marjory or the doctor, and also very careful
to lock themselves in at night, as they were by no means free from
foolish fears and superstitions.

First of all, the girls examined the portraits in the dining-room.
Blanche inquired why there were no ladies amongst them.

"Don't they count as ancestors?" she asked.

"Oh yes," replied Marjory, laughing, "but they are all in