the first to come,
by an early train, having arrived in New York the night before, where
Hugh met her and brought her in triumph to Fernley. Margaret was at the
door to receive her, and Peggy's sister had no cause to complain of the
warmth of her reception. She was a slenderer Peggy, with the same blue,
honest eyes, the same flaxen hair and rosy cheeks. Her dress, however,
was far more tasteful and neat than Peggy's had been on her first
arrival. Margaret recalled the green flannel, all buttoned awry, and
looked with approval on Jean's pretty gray travelling-dress.

"Dear Jean!" she said, kissing her cousin warmly. "Most welcome to
Fernley, dear child! Oh, I am so glad to see you! I have been counting
the days, Jean."

[Illustration: "SHE WAS A SLENDERER PEGGY, WITH THE SAME BLUE, HONEST
EYES."]

"Oh, so have I!" said Jean, looking up with a shy, sweet smile,--Peggy's
very own smile. Margaret kissed her again for it. "The last day did seem
awfully long, Cousin Margaret--well, Margaret, then! I'm sure I never
call you anything but Peggy's Margaret when I think of you. Peggy hasn't
come yet?"

"Not yet. She will be here this afternoon, on the three o'clock train.
She knows nothing about your coming, Jean. In her very last letter, she
was talking about being glad to come here, and so on, and she said the
only thing wanting would be you."

"Oh, goody! I'm awfully glad--that she doesn't know, I mean. It will be
just lovely to surprise her. Dear old Peg!" Jean relapsed into bashful
silence when Margaret took her into the library to greet her uncle; but
Mr. Montfort's smile and cordial greeting soon put her at her ease.

"Isn't he just lovely?" she whispered to Margaret, as they went
up-stairs. "I was afraid he would be awful, somehow, but he isn't a bit;
he's just lovely."

Margaret assented, making a mental note of the fact that this child
seemed to have but two adjectives in her vocabulary. "Peggy will see to
that!" she said to herself. "Peggy has improved so wonderfully in her
English this last year. She will be quicker than I to notice and take up
the little mistakes."

This was not strictly true, though modest Margaret meant it so. Peggy
certainly had learned much at school, but her teachers had no
expectation of her becoming an eminent English scholar.

"I have put you with Peggy," said Margaret, leading the way into the
pretty room, hung with red-poppy chintz, where Peggy had spent a few sad
and many happy