You needn't have come,' he said. 'It's—it's only my collection, and they've been escaping——'
'Ha, ha!' laughed Harry; 'it's those snails and things that he has been gathering on the beach, and they've crawled all over the place!'
Gerald stood, flushing to the roots of his hair, and shrinking from the mirth of the others.
His treasures had been trying to make themselves at home in their new quarters. The little crabs and lobsters had scattered in search of water, and the shell-fish had crawled over the floor or attached themselves to the wall, where they waited with tilted shells for the tide that failed to come.
'Never mind, Gerald,' said Marjorie, as tears began to start in the boy's eyes; 'it's very nice making a collection, and I've got a nice pail with a lid that I'll give you to keep the things in.'
'And now,' said Mrs. Stewart, 'I see the pony cart coming up the drive, with Mrs. MacGregor in it; run and get ready, girls, or we shall be late.'
After about a quarter of an hour's tidying, Marjorie was released from her mother's hands, dressed in a cream serge frock and a large hat, and with her hair brushed out and neatly arranged.
Feeling unlike herself and hardly satisfied with the change, she peeped in the glass as soon as her mother's back was turned.
Her own reflection caused her to start and colour with surprise.
Blue eyes, bright with suppressed excitement, a wild rose face framed in short fair curls and set off by the light colours of her attire, slender hands and neat ankles—'and that's me,' said Marjorie to herself in bewilderment.