eems hardly possible. She is
afraid I shall tell her to put her hair up; I certainly shall not, at
least while she is here. I am sure you prefer the pigtail, don't you,
Uncle John?"

"Yes! oh, yes!" said Mr. Montfort, abstractedly. "Pigtail--yes, by all
means. And how will you and Peggy amuse yourselves, my dear? No Rita
this summer to electrify us all. You will not find it dull?"

"Dull, Uncle John? how could Fernley possibly be dull? Why, Peggy and I
are going to be as happy as possible. I have all kinds of plans made.
You see, it is time Peggy was learning something about housekeeping and
that sort of thing, and I thought this summer would be the very best
time to show her a little. Of course, when she is at home, she wants to
be doing twenty thousand things on the farm, just as she always has
done, and the time goes so quickly, she has not begun to think yet about
the indoor things; so I am going to be the Humdrum-major, Uncle, and
give her some lessons; if you approve, that is."

"Highly, my dear, highly. Every woman should be able to take care of her
own house, and the only way for her to learn is to begin upon some one
else's. I should think Peggy might make a vigorous little housekeeper,
if a chaotic one. Don't let her loose in the library, Margaret, that is
my only prayer."

"Uncle John, I really do believe that you think housekeeping consists
entirely in dusting and setting things to wrongs, as you call it."

"Well, my love, I confess that has always seemed to me a prime element
in the art. But I also confess my ignorance, and the depth and darkness
thereof. Am I humble enough? Now I must go and take the puppies for an
airing. Till dinner-time, May Margaret!"

Mr. Montfort strolled away, and Margaret bent with renewed energy over
her work, giving herself a little shake as she did so. Her uncle's words
still sounded in her ears: "You will not find it dull?" She had answered
out of the fulness of her heart, thinking it impossible that dulness
should come where Uncle John was, especially as he happened to be at
Fernley House, the most enchanting place in the world. Yet--and yet--it
was going to be very, very different, of course, from the life of the
past year, so filled full and running over with delight. It was not only
that she missed the children; it was that in the care of them, the
watching over the growing bodies and the eager minds, she was learning
so much herself, feeling the world grow, almost ho