about me?"

"You had better not talk to me in that strain before Mr. Martin. He is
very deeply devoted to me," said Mrs. Howland; "and do not imagine
that we have not given you careful consideration. He is willing to
adopt you, but insists on your leaving Aylmer House and coming to
Laburnum Villa at Clapham. From what he says, you are quite
sufficiently educated, and your duty now is to look after your mother
and your new father, to be pleasant to me all day long, and to be
bright and cheerful with him when he comes back from business in the
evening. If you play your cards well, Maggie, he will leave you well
provided for, as he is quite rich--of course, not rich like those
people you are staying near, but rich for his class. I am very much
pleased myself at the engagement. Our banns were called last Sunday in
church, and we are to be married in a fortnight. After that, you had
best stay on here until we desire you to join us at Laburnum Villa."

"I can't, mother," said Maggie. "I can't--and I won't."

"Oh, come, I hear a step on the stairs," said Mrs. Howland. "That is
Mr. Martin. Now, you will restrain yourself for my sake."

There _was_ a step on the stairs--firm, solid, heavy. The
drawing-room door was opened about an inch, but no one came in.

Mrs. Howland said in a low whisper to her daughter, "He doesn't know
you have returned; he is very playful. Just stay quiet. He really is a
most amusing person."

"Bo-peep!" said a voice at the door; and a round, shining, bald head
was popped in and then disappeared.

"Bo-peep!" said Mrs. Howland in response.

She stood up, and there came over her faded face a waggish expression.
She held up her finger and shook it playfully. The bald head appeared
again, followed immediately by a very round body. The playful finger
continued to waggle.

"Ducksie dear!" said Mr. Martin, and he clasped Mrs. Howland in his
arms.

Maggie gave a smothered groan.

"It's the child," said Mrs. Howland in a whisper. "She is a bit upset;
but when she knows you, James, she'll love you as much as I do."

"Hope so," said Mr. Martin. "I'm a duckle, Little-sing; ain't I,
Victoria?" Here he chuckled the good lady under the chin. "Ah, and so
this is Maggie?--How do, my dear? How do, Popsy-wopsy?"

"How do you do?" said Maggie.

"Come, come," said Mr. Martin. "No flights and vapors, no fine airs,
no affected, mincing ways. A little girl should love her new parent. A
little girl should kiss