ewing these interesting proceedings
when Mrs. Cooke came hurrying towards us. She held a letter in her hand.

"You know," said she, "that Mr. Cooke is forgetful, particularly when
his mind is occupied with important matters, as it has been for some
time. Here is a letter from my niece, Miss Thorn, which he has carried
in his pocket since Monday. We expected her two weeks ago, and had given
her up. But it seems she was to leave Philadelphia on Wednesday, and
will be at that forlorn little station of Asquith at half-past nine
to-night. I want you two to go over and meet her."

We expressed our readiness, and in ten minutes were in the station
wagon, rolling rapidly down the long drive, for it was then after nine.
We passed on the way the van of the guests from Asquith. As we reached
the lodge we heard the whistle, and we backed up against one side of the
platform as the train pulled up at the other.

Farrar and I are not imaginative; we did not picture to ourselves any
particular type for the girl we were going to meet, we were simply doing
our best to get to the station before the train. We jumped from the
wagon and were watching the people file out of the car, and I noticed
that more than one paused to look back over their shoulders as they
reached the door. Then came a maid with hand-bag and shawls, and after
her a tall young lady. She stood for a moment holding her skirt above
the grimy steps, with something of the stately pose which Richter has
given his Queen Louise on the stairway, and the light of the reflector
fell full upon her. She looked around expectantly, and recognizing Mrs.
Cooke's maid, who had stepped forward to relieve hers of the shawls,
Miss Thorn greeted her with a smile which greatly prepossessed us in her
favor.

"How do you do, Jennie?" she said. "Did any one else come?"

"Yes, Miss Marian," replied Jennie, abashed but pleased,--"these
gentlemen."

Farrar and I introduced ourselves, awkwardly enough, and we both tried
to explain at once how it was that neither Mr. nor Mrs. Cooke was there
to meet her. Of course we made an absolute failure of it. She scanned
our faces with a puzzled expression for a while and then broke into a
laugh.

"I think I understand," she said; "they are having the house-warming."

"She's first-rate at guessing," said Farrar to me as we fled
precipitately to see that the trunks were hoisted into the basket.
Neither of us had much presence of mind as we climbed into