strong tea
in the teapot for Mr. Martin, for he cannot bear it weak. He calls
weak tea wish-wash."

"But whoever is this mysterious person?" said Maggie.

"I will tell you in a minute or two. You may give me one of those
little cakes. No, I couldn't stand muffins; I hate them in hot
weather. Besides, my digestion isn't what it was; but I shall be all
right by-and-by; so will you too, my dear. And what I do, I do for
you."

"Well, I wish you would tell me what you are doing for me, and get it
over," said Maggie. "You were always very peculiar, mums,
always--even when dear father was alive--and you're not less so now."

"That's a very unkind way for a child to speak of her parent," said
Mrs. Howland; "but I can assure you, Maggie, that Mr. Martin won't
allow it in the future."

Maggie now sprang to her feet.

"Good gracious, mother! What has Mr. Martin to do with me? Is he--is
he--it cannot be, mother!"

"Yes, I can," said Mrs. Howland. "I may as well have it out first as
last. I am going to marry Mr. Martin."

"Mother!"

There was a wailing cry in Maggie's voice. No girl can stand with
equanimity her mother marrying a second time; and as Maggie, with all
her dreams of her own future, had never for an instant contemplated
this fact, she was simply staggered for a minute or two.

"You will have to take it in the right spirit, my dear," said her
mother. "I can't stand this life any longer. I want money, and
comforts, and devotion, and the love of a faithful husband, and Mr.
Martin will give me all these things. He is willing to adopt you too.
He said so. He has no children of his own. I mean, when I say that,
that his first family are all settled in life, and he says that he
wouldn't object at all to a pleasant, lively girl in the house. He
wants you to leave school."

"Leave Aylmer House!" said Maggie. "Oh no, mother!"

"I knew you'd make a fuss about it," said Mrs. Howland. "He has a
great dislike to what he calls fine folks. He speaks of them as
daisies, and he hates daisies."

"But, mother--mother dear--before he comes, tell me something about
him. Where did you meet him? Who is he? A clergyman--a barrister? What
is he, mother?"

Mrs. Howland remained silent for a minute. Then she pressed her hand
to her heart. Then she gave way to a burst of hysterical laughter.

"Just consider for a minute, Maggie," she said, "what utter nonsense
you are talking. Where should I be likely to meet a clergyman or a