aid Hugh, hastily, "I'd rather not! I--I mean, of
course, it is not of the smallest consequence, Margaret. It is pleasant
to hear singing at night, but perhaps all the pleasanter when the singer
is unseen and unknown. Now let us go on with our Thoreau."

* * * * *

"Margaret! Margaret! Margaret!"

It was all Peggy could say at first. All the way up the avenue her heart
had been beating high; at sight of the brown chimney-stacks of Fernley,
it seemed to give a great jump up in her throat; and when the carriage
swept round the curve, and she saw the whole front of the great house,
and Margaret, her own Margaret, standing on the steps, with arms
outstretched to welcome her, there was nothing for it but to cry out,
with the full power of her healthy lungs. Almost before Bannan could
stop the horses, she had scrambled out, and was on her cousin's neck,
strangling her with hugs, and smothering her with kisses at the same
instant. "Margaret! Margaret! I am really here! Do you know that I am
really here?"

Speech was impossible for Margaret, but a voice from behind broke in:

"Come, come! what is all this? My niece done to death on my own
doorstep? Let go, Peggy, and come and kill me instead. I am older, and
shall be less missed."

Peggy loosed her hold, somewhat abashed, but received an embrace from
her uncle so warm that she brightened again instantly.

"Oh, Uncle John, how do you do? It was only that I was so glad to see my
darling Margaret. Did I hurt you, dearest? I have pulled all your lovely
hair down; Margaret, I am more clumsy than ever, I do believe."

"Dear Peggy! as if I cared whether you are clumsy or not! though it is
convenient to have the use of my windpipe, I confess. Well, and here you
are, indeed. Why, Peggy!"

"What is it, Margaret?"

"_Why, Peggy!_"

"Oh, dear! what is the matter? Is my hat wrong side before? I know my
necktie is crooked, but I couldn't help that, truly I couldn't,
Margaret; the strap is broken, and it will work round under my ear. I'll
mend it--"

"I wasn't looking at your necktie, child. Peggy, you are taller than I
am! How dare you, miss?"

"Oh, Margaret! I really thought I had done something--why, yes, so I am
taller; but only just the least little bit, Margaret."

"And your shoulders--why, Peggy, you are a great big creature! How can
any one grow so in six months? We shall have to call you Brynhild."

"What's that?" asked Peggy, simply.