very
rich man. She mentioned the coming marriage in a few brief words, and
then went on to speak of herself, and of how delightful it would be to
welcome Molly and Isabel when they arrived at Aylmer House. Not by the
faintest suggestion did she give her friend to understand the step
down in the social scale which Mrs. Howland's marriage with Mr. Martin
meant.

Having finished her letter, she thought for a minute, then wrote a
careful line to Merry Cardew. She did not tell Merry about her
mother's approaching marriage, but said that Molly would have news for
her. In other respects her letter to Merry was very much more
confidential than her letter to Molly. She assured Merry of her deep
love, and begged of her friend to regard this letter as quite private.
"If you feel you must show it to people, tear it up rather than do
so," said Maggie, "for I cannot bear that our great and sacred love
each for the other should be commented on."

When Merry received the letter she neither showed it to any one else
nor tore it up. She could not forget Maggie's face as she parted from
her, and the fact that she had refused to accept the ten pounds which
the little girl had wanted to give her in order to remove her from
musty, fusty lodgings had raised Maggie considerably in her friend's
estimation.

Meanwhile Maggie Howland, having finished her letters, went out and
posted them. She then changed her sovereign, and bought some excellent
and appetizing fruit and cakes for her mother's and Mr. Martin's tea.
She consulted with Tildy as to how these dainties were to be
arranged, and Tildy entered into the spirit of the thing with
effusion, and declared that they were perfect crowns of beauty, and
that most assuredly they would melt in Mr. Martin's mouth.

On hearing this Maggie hastened to change the conversation; but when
she had impressed upon Tildy the all-importance of a snowy cloth being
placed upon the ugly tray, and further begged of her to polish up the
teapot and spoons, Tildy thought that Miss Maggie was more wonderful
than ever.

"With them as is about to step into the life-matrimonial, pains should
be took," thought Tildy, and she mentioned her sentiments to Mrs.
Ross, who shook her head sadly, and replied that one ought to do the
best one could for the poor things.

At three o'clock Maggie put on her hat, drew her gloves on, and,
taking up a parasol, went out.

"Good-bye, darling," she said to her mother.

After all