ce used to call it
'Cruelty to Syllables.'"

"Well, what shall I say? I don't know anything else."

"Yes, you do; don't be absurd, child. Margaret made me a list of
adjectives and adverbs once, I remember, the first time I was here; I
was just your age then, Jean, and I have no doubt I _did_ say 'awfully'
most of the time; anyhow, I did it enough to trouble Margaret aw--very
much indeed. Let me see: there is 'very,' of course; 'remarkably,
extremely, uncommonly, exceedingly, and excessively;' then for
adjectives, 'charming, delightful, pretty, exquisite, pleasant,
agreeable, entertaining,'--well, there were a great many more, but that
is all I can think of now; all these will do instead of 'awful' and
'lovely,' Jean."

"Oh, Peggy, dear, you are a regular school-ma'am. Please don't let us
talk about all these horrid things, the first night I am here. I am
perfectly dying to know what you think about the two Mr. Merryweathers,
and about Hugh and Margaret."

"Why, I think the Merryweathers seem very nice boys indeed. I like the
funny one best, I think; Gerald, is his name? But the other one is nice,
too. He has such kind eyes, and such a pleasant voice. Somehow he looks
more like Gertrude than Gerald does, even though Gerald has her hair.
Oh, Jean, I wish you could see my Snowy Owl! She is so dear, and
beautiful, and strong; next to you and Margaret, she is the very dearest
girl in the world, except one."

"May I come in?" said Margaret's voice at the door. She was greeted by a
duet of "Come in, do!" and entering, found her two cousins seated on the
floor, hair-brush in hand, brushing out their long fair hair.

"'Maud and Madge in their robes of white,
The prettiest nightgowns under the sun!'"

quoted Margaret. "How comfortable you look, girls! May I do my hair
here, too? I knew you would be sitting up, chattering. Who is the very
dearest girl in the world except one, Peggy? And who is the one? I heard
the end of your sentence before I knocked."

"Yes, but you didn't hear the beginning," said Peggy, "or you would know
that you two here are the _very_ dearest, and that the others only come
after you. I was speaking of Gertrude Merryweather; oh! how you and she
will love each other, Margaret! I don't see how I can wait to have you
know each other. And by the 'except one,' I meant Grace Wolfe, our Horny
Owl, and our Goat, and a good many other things."

"Where is she now?" asked Margaret. "Have you