She walked on gravely by Ermengarde's side, the joy on her face a little damped. But presently, being a most irrepressible child, it bubbled over again.
"I wouldn't be so awfully, awfully glad, only you have been at the Russells', Ermie. You spent a fortnight with them after Christmas, and Lily always promised that she'd have me asked next. I can't help being delighted about it," continued Marjorie, "for I do so love Lily."
"You little minx! And I suppose you imagine that a big girl like Lilias Russell cares for you! Why, she's fifteen, and ever so tall."
"But she said she was very fond of me," answered Marjorie.
"Oh, she said it! And you believed it, of course! Have you no observation of character? Can't you see, unless you're as blind as a bat, that Lilias Russell is one of those polite sort of people who always must say pleasant things just for the sake of making themselves agreeable? Well, my dear, go and worship her, you have got a chance now for a week; only for goodness' sake don't worry me any more about it."
Marjorie ran off in her stolid little way. Ermengarde watched her as her sturdy figure disappeared from view.
"Ridiculous child!" she said to herself, "and so plain. I can't make out why people make such a fuss about her. She's always held up to me as a sort of model. How I detest models, particularly the Maggie kind! Now I know exactly what will happen. She'll go to Glendower with father and Basil, and won't she gush just! I know how she'll pet Lilias Russell, and how she'll paw her. And Lilias is just that weak sort of girl with all her grace and prettiness, to be taken in by that sort of thing. Lilias fancies that she has taken quite a liking for Maggie—as if she could make a friend of her! Why, Maggie's a baby, and a very conceited, troublesome one too."
It was now time for Ermengarde to go in. She pleaded a headache, and so escaped doing any more lessons that day, and in the afternoon she managed to make the hours pass agreeably over the "Heir of Redclyffe," which she was reading for the first time, and so did not miss Basil's attention and companionship as much as she would otherwise have done.
All the rest of the children and Miss Nelson were busy and interested in preparing Marjorie for her visit to Glendower. Basil had gone out fishing with his father; Eric had coaxed to be allowed to go with the under-gamekeeper to see the young pheasants. The house was very still, and Ermie had the pleasant old schoolroom to herself. She read eagerly; in spite of herself—perhaps unknown to herself—she was anxious to drown reflection.
It was late in the evening of that same day that Miss Nelson answered a knock which came to her sitting-room door, and was surprised to see Basil pop in his dark head.