“Your mother was talking about it?”
“Yes. It seems Mr. Tristram had been praising it to her like anything last night.”
“Well, he can’t say too much in its favor,” said Maggie. “Any girl who didn’t get good from it ought to be ashamed of herself.”
“What is that you are saying, Miss Howland?” said the voice of Mr. Cardew at that moment.
“Oh father! I never saw you,” cried Merry.
Mr. Cardew came up and shook hands with Maggie. “I was walking just behind you on the grass,” he said, “and I heard your enthusiastic remarks with regard to the school that the young Tristrams are going to. I am heartily pleased; I take a great interest in the Tristrams.”
“Oh sir,” said Maggie suddenly, “I only wish—oh! I hardly dare to say it—but I only do wish that your girls were coming too!”
Merry turned crimson and then grew pale. “Father doesn’t approve of schools,” she said in a faint voice.
“As a rule, I do not,” said Mr. Cardew decidedly; “but 28 of course I am bound to say there are schools and schools. You shall tell me all about your school presently, Miss Howland. And now, I will allow my daughter to entertain you.”
“But, father darling, you promised to show Maggie the manuscript-room yourself.”