didn't know you were talking about servants," said Elsie. "I
thought you meant friends. Hadn't you any real friends?"

"Not the kind of friends you mean. I had Father and Mother and Aunt
Jessie, but until last August when Undine came, I had never spoken to a
white girl of my own age."

"Undine, what a queer name. Is she a Mexican or an Indian?"

"She isn't either," said Marjorie, laughing, "and Undine isn't her real
name. We only call her that because we don't know what her name is. It's
a very interesting story, and I'll tell you all about it, but here comes
my trunk, and I suppose I had better unpack and change my dress before
dinner."

In spite of Marjorie's reiterated assurances that she didn't need any
help, Hortense reappeared, and insisted on making herself useful. She
was very polite and talked volubly in broken English about
Mademoiselle's being _fatiguer_ and how glad she, Hortense, would be to
assist her in every way, but Marjorie could not help feeling
uncomfortable, and wishing that the well-intentioned maid would go away
and leave her to unpack by herself. But what made her still more
uncomfortable was the fact that Elsie also lingered, and regarded every
article that came out of that modest leather trunk, with a keen,
critical eye.

"What are you going to wear down to dinner?" she inquired anxiously as
the last things were being stowed away in the bureau drawers.

"I don't know," said Marjorie; "I hadn't thought about it. I suppose my
gray flannel suit, or else a clean shirt-waist and duck skirt."

Elsie clasped her hands in horror.

"Oh, you can't, you can't possibly!" she cried in real dismay. "Those
things will do very well for breakfast and luncheon, but everybody
dresses here in the evening. Let me see what you can wear. You haven't
got much, but I suppose that white muslin will do."

"But that is my very best dress," protested Marjorie, her cheeks
crimsoning from embarrassment and distress. "I don't think Mother would
like to have me wear it the first evening. I won't have anything left
for really grand occasions if I do."

"Oh, yes, you will," said Elsie, confidently. "Mamma is going to buy you
a lot of new clothes; that was all arranged before you came. It would
never do to have you going about everywhere in these things."

Marjorie glanced at her cousin's stylish, well fitting blue chiffon and
her heart was filled with dismay. Was it possible that all her mother's
and aunt's stitches