ut reasonable. If four new girls
came to the school, and altogether went over to Aneta's side, where
should I be? What chance should I have? But I do not ask you to come
to my side; I only ask you to be neutral. Merry, will you promise?"

"You distress me more than I can say," replied Merry. "I feel so
completely in the dark. I don't, of course, want to take any side."

"Ah, then you will promise?" said Maggie.

"I don't know what to say."

"Let me present a picture to you," continued Maggie. "There are two
girls; they are not equally equipped for the battle of life. I say
nothing of injustice in the matter; I only state a fact. One of them
is rich and highly born, and endowed with remarkable beauty of face.
That girl is your own cousin, Aneta Lysle. Then there is the other
girl, Maggie Howland, who is ugly."

"Oh no--no!" said Merry affectionately.

"Yes, darling," said Maggie, using her most magnetic voice, "really
ugly."

"Not in my eyes," said Merry.

"She is ugly," repeated Maggie, speaking with great calm;
"and--yes--she is poor. I will tell you as a great secret--I have
never breathed it to a soul yet--that it would be impossible for this
girl to be an inmate of Aylmer House if Mrs. Ward, in the kindness of
her great heart, had not offered her very special terms. You will
never breathe that, Merry, not even to Cicely?"

"Oh, poor Maggie!" said Merry, "are you really--really as poor as
that?"

"Church mice aren't poorer," said Maggie. "But never mind; I have got
something which even your Aneta hasn't got. I have talent, and I have
the power--the power of charming. I want most earnestly to be your
special friend, Merry. I have a very affectionate heart, and I love
you and Cicely and Molly and Isabel more than I can say; but of all
you four girls I love you the best. You come first in my heart; and to
see you at my school turning away from me and going altogether to
Aneta's side would give me agony. There, I can't help it. Forgive me.
I'll be all right in a minute."

Maggie turned her face aside. She had taken out her handkerchief and
was pressing it to her eyes. Real tears had filled them, for her
emotions were genuine enough.

"Don't you think," she said after a pause, "that you, who are so rich
in this world's goods, might be kind and loving to a poor little plain
girl who loves you but who has got very little?"

"Indeed, indeed, I shall always love you, dear Maggie," said Merry.

"Then you wil