om I go to see quite often. She is very
charming, but--no, there is no one else; the places are large and
scattered, you see, all about here. The next one on the other side
belongs to Miss Desmond, and she is always abroad, and has not been here
at all since I have."

"You don't think she may have returned lately, without your knowing it?"

"No, I am sure she cannot; I heard of her only a few days ago, in Egypt;
Uncle John had a letter from her. Why do you ask, Hugh?"

"Oh--idle curiosity; or curiosity, whether idle or not. And--there are
no other young girls?"

"None; that is why I missed Peggy and Rita so terribly, as I was telling
you last night. Then the dear children came, and they were my comfort
and joy; I shall have them again when the summer is over; happy day it
will be when they come back. But, you see, having first the girls and
then the children has rather spoiled Uncle John and me, and that is why
it was so very particularly nice of you to come, Cousin Hugh."

"Suppose we drop the 'cousin,' and be just Hugh and Margaret?" suggested
her cousin. "I am used to having sisters about me, you know, and don't
know how to get along without them; some day it may be 'Sister
Margaret.' Should you mind?"

Margaret colored high with pleasure, and again the foolish tears came
into her eyes. "I have wanted a brother all my life!" she said, simply;
and again Hugh's smile told her that he understood all about it. He was
certainly a most wonderful person.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes; then--"I did not tell
the exact truth," said Margaret, "when I said there were no young people
here. Just now it happens there is one, a newcomer, a girl of my own
age."

She paused. "Yes?" said Hugh, suggestively. "Some one you know?"

"Yes--and no! I have met her once. She is a Miss Wolfe, who has come to
be a sort of companion to Mrs. Peyton. A singular-looking girl, with a
most interesting face. I want to see her again; and yet,--somehow,--I am
rather afraid of her."

"Is she formidable, this she-wolf?"

"Not formidable, but--well, I don't know how to describe her. She
impresses me as different from anybody I have ever seen. Wild is not the
word; Rita was wild, but it was something totally different."

"Peggy is wild, too," said Hugh, "wild as a mountain goat, or was,
before you took her in hand, Margaret. Is this young lady like Peggy?"

"Oh, not in the very least. She is not shy, not a bit; not shy, an