Aunt Julia had ordered the
carriage and told Marjorie that she intended devoting the day to
shopping.

"You are to begin school on Monday," she explained, "and I must get you
some decent clothes as soon as possible."

Marjorie supposed she ought to be grateful, but she could not help
resisting the fact that her aunt evidently did not consider her present
wardrobe "decent," and this, added to her other troubles, resulted in a
very unhappy half-hour. But Marjorie was a plucky girl, and she had
plenty of common sense.

"I won't write a word about all this to Mother or Aunt Jessie," she
decided as she dried her eyes. "It wouldn't do any good, and they would
be so sorry. I am sure Aunt Julia means to be kind, and I suppose I did
frighten them, but it does seem so silly not to be allowed to go out for
a walk by one's self."

She had just bathed her red eyes, and was sitting down to write the
deferred letter to her mother, when the door opened, and Elsie came in.

"Mamma says you are to be ready to go out with her in fifteen minutes,"
she began, then paused, regarding her cousin curiously. "You look as if
you'd been crying," she said abruptly. "Mamma did pitch into you pretty
hard, but it was an awfully queer thing to go out by yourself at seven
o'clock in the morning."

"I'm very sorry I did what was wrong," said Marjorie, "but I had no idea
any one would object. I often go for a gallop on my pony before
breakfast at home."

"Oh, I daresay you do, but that is very different. I think it was too
funny that you should have met Beverly Randolph. Do tell me what he is
like."

"He is very nice indeed," said Marjorie, frankly; "I liked him ever so
much."

"You'll be sure to introduce us, won't you? It will be such fun to tell
Lulu Bell I've met him first; not that she'll care much, she's such a
baby. Mamma thinks she may call on Mrs. Randolph to thank her."

"What does she want to thank her for?" inquired Marjorie, innocently.

"Why, for her son's bringing you home, and being so kind to you. You
might have been lost for hours if he hadn't done it."

"But his mother had nothing to do with that," persisted Marjorie.
"Besides, he was on his way home, anyway. He was very nice, but I don't
see what there is to thank his mother for."

Elsie reddened, and looked a little annoyed.

"Oh, well, it doesn't matter," she said carelessly. "Mamma would like to
call on Mrs. Randolph, and this makes a good excuse, that's all. She