e, felt quite at home now as she took out pretty mats
and laid them on little tables in the neat spare room which had been
arranged for the reception of Maggie Howland. She saw that all the
appointments of the room were as perfect as simplicity and cleanliness
could effect, and then went out into the summer garden to pick some
choice, sweet-smelling flowers. She selected roses and carnations,
and, bringing them in, arranged them in vases in the room.

Hearing the sound of wheels, she flew eagerly downstairs and met her
friend as she stepped out of the little governess-cart.

"Well, here I am!" said Maggie. "And how is Belle? How good-natured of
you all to have me, and how delightful it is to smell the delicious
country air! Mother and I find town so hot and stuffy. I haven't
brought a great lot of luggage, and I am not a bit smart; but you
won't mind that--will you, dear old Belle?"

"You always talk about not being smart, Maggie; but you manage to look
smarter than anyone else," said Isabel, her eager brown eyes devouring
her friend's appearance with much curiosity. For Maggie looked, to use
a proverbial phrase, as if she had stepped out of a bandbox. If she
was plain of face she had an exceedingly neat figure, and there was a
fashionable, trim look about her which is uncommon in a girl of her
age; for Maggie was only just sixteen, and scarcely looked as much. In
some ways she might almost have been a French girl, so exceedingly
neat and _comme il faut_ was her little person. She was built on a
_petite_ scale, and although her face was so plain, she had lovely
hands and beautiful small feet. These feet were always shod in the
most correct style, and she took care of her hands, never allowing
them to get red or sunburnt.

"Where's Molly?" was her remark, as the two girls, with their arms
twined round each other, entered the wide, low hall which was one of
the special features of the old rectory.

"She has gone up to see the Cardews."

"Who are the Cardews?"

"Why, surely, Mags, you must have heard of them?"

"You don't mean," said Maggie with a laugh, and showing a gleam of
strong white teeth, "the two little ladies who live in a bandbox?"

"Oh, you really must not laugh at them," said Isabel, immediately on
the defensive for her friends; "but they do lead a somewhat exclusive
life. Molly has gone up to the Castle, as we always call Meredith
Manor, to announce your arrival, and to ask permission to bring you