“I am delighted to see you,” said Molly.
She kissed her friend rapturously. Maggie presented a cool, firm, round cheek.
“Oh, how sweet you look, Mags!”
“Don’t talk nonsense, Molly; I’m not a bit sweet-looking.”
“To me,” said Molly with fervor, “You’re the loveliest girl in all the wide world.”
“I’m very ugly, and you know that perfectly well,” said Maggie; “but now don’t let’s talk of looks.”
“Whatever were you doing in this part of the garden?” inquired Molly.
“Oh, she was making love to Andrew,” remarked Belle. “She calls him Peterkins, and he allows it, and he has given her one-half of Spot-ear; and she means to make love to Jack, and he’s to give her a couple of his rabbits—I mean, to share them with her. She’s more extraordinary than ever, more altogether out of the common.”
“As if I didn’t know that,” said Molly. “It’s all right about this afternoon, Maggie. Oh, what do you think? We’re to stay to supper, and I have a special invitation for father and mother to come and join us then. Won’t it be fun! I do wonder, Maggie, if you will like the Cardew girls.”
“Probably not,” replied Maggie in a very calm voice; “but at least I can promise you one thing: they’ll both like me.”