"I think I do like you," Muriel answered slowly.
"And I like you! I mean to love you very dearly," her stepmother went on. "You never knew your own mother, did you?"
"No. I have often wished she had lived. I have a friend called Marigold Holcroft, who is always talking about her mother, what she does, and says, and so on."
"Yes?"
Once on the subject of her friendship for Marigold, Muriel talked without restraint, till presently her father reappeared upon the scene. His wife turned to him with a smile.
"Are you going to take us out boating this evening?" she asked. "Of course Muriel will spend the remainder of the day with us. You would like to, wouldn't you, my dear?" appealing to the little girl.
"Yes, I should. But I had made an appointment to go shrimping with Marigold Holcroft, and I think I had better go and explain, don't you?"
The others agreed, and Muriel darted away, and was soon hastening towards No. 8 Alma Terrace, to see if Marigold and her aunts had returned.