“Indeed I do. Oh, come along, you queer creature. Here’s the darling mums. Mater dearest, here is Maggie Howland.” 10
“Delighted to see you, my dear,” said Mrs. Tristram. “I hope you are not tired after your journey from town.”
“Not in the least, thank you, Mrs. Tristram,” said Maggie, speaking in a voice of very peculiar quality; it was sweet and rich and full of many intonations. She had the power of putting a world of meaning into the most commonplace expressions.
Mrs. Tristram had not seen Maggie before, and it was Mr. Tristram who had been completely bowled over by the young lady just at Christmas-time.
“I bid you a hearty welcome to the rectory,” said the good clergyman’s wife, “and I hope you will have a pleasant time with my children.”
“I’ll have a fascinating time,” said Maggie. “I’m just too delighted to come. It was sweet of you to have me; and may I, please, give you a kiss?”
“Of course you may, dear child,” said Mrs. Tristram.
Maggie bestowed the kiss, and immediately afterward was conducted to her room by the worshiping Belle.
“I do hope you’ll like it,” said Belle in an almost timorous voice. “I prepared it for you myself.”
“Why, it’s sweet,” said Maggie, “and so full of the country! Oh, I say, what roses! And those carnations—Malmaisons, aren’t they? I must wear a couple in this brown holland frock; they’ll tone with it perfectly. What a delicious smell!”