“You look nice, yourself, Maggie. Everything is wonderful,” said Molly; “not a bit like the school in Hanover.”
“Of course not. Who could compare it?” said Maggie.
Meanwhile Aneta, Cicely, and Merry had gone on in front. But as they were ascending the broad, low stairs, Merry turned and glanced at Maggie and smiled at her, and Maggie smiled back at Merry. Oh, that smile of Merry’s, how it caused her heart to leap! Aneta, try as she would, could not take Merry Cardew quite away from her.
Cicely and Merry had a bedroom together. Two little white beds stood side by side. The drugget on the floor was pale blue. The room was a study in pale blue and white. It was all exquisitely neat, fresh, airy, and the smell of the flowers in the window-boxes came in through the open windows.
“Why,” said Cicely with a gasp, “we might almost be in the country!”
“This is one of the nicest rooms in the whole house,” said Aneta. “But why should I say that,” she continued, “when every room is, so to speak, perfect? I never saw Mrs. Ward, however, more particular than she was about your bedroom, girls. I think she is very much pleased at your coming to Aylmer House.”
Cicely ran to the window and looked out.
“It is so nice to be in London,” she said; “but somehow, I thought it would be much more noisy.”
Aneta laughed.
“Aylmer House,” she said, “stands in the midst of a great square. We don’t have huge traffic in the squares; and, really, at night it is as quiet as the country itself.”