d the softest dusters. That room shall,
indeed, be cleaned better than anybody else could do it. Just hurry,
please, I must begin. I must begin right away."

She trembled so that she could hardly braid and pin up her long hair
out of the way, and her face had regained more than its old-time
color. She was content to let all that was still a mystery remain for
the present. She had enough to think about and enjoy.

Angelique brought the things that would be needed and, for once,
forbore advice. Let love teach the child--she had nought to say. In
any case she could not have seen the dust, herself, for her dark eyes
were misty with tears, and her thoughts on matters wholly foreign to
household cares.

Margot opened the windows and began to dust the various articles
which could be set out in the wide passage, and did not come round
to the heavy dresser for some moments. As she did so, finally, her
glance flew instantly to a bulky parcel, wrapped in sheets of white
birch-bark, and bearing her own name, in Adrian's handwriting.

"Why, he did remember me, then!" she cried, delightedly, tearing the
package open. "Pictures! the very ones I liked the best. Xanthippe and
Socrates, and oh! that's Reynard! Reynard! Reynard, ready to speak!
The splendid, beautiful creature! and the splendid, generous boy to
have given it. He called it his 'masterpiece' and, indeed, it was by
far the best he ever did here. Harmony Hollow--but that's not so fine.
However, he meant to make it like, and---- Why, here's a note. Why
didn't I come in here before? Why didn't I think he would do something
like this? Forgive me, Adrian, wherever you are, for misjudging you
so. I'm sorry uncle didn't like you and sorry--for lots of things. But
I'm glad, glad you weren't so rude and mean as I believed. If I ever
see you I'll tell you so. Now, I'll put these in my own room and then
get to work again. This room you left so messed shall be as spotless
as a snowflake before I'm done with it."

For hours she labored there, brushing, renovating, polishing; and when
all was finished she called Angelique to see and criticise--if she
could! But she could not; and she, too, had something now of vital
importance to impart.

"It is beautiful' done, yes, yes. I couldn't do it more clean myself,
I, Angelique, no. But, my child! Hear, hear, and be calm! The master
is himself! The master has awoke, yes, and is askin' for his child!
True, true. Old Joe, he says, 'Come. Qui