“So you, Miss Howland, have been telling my daughter Merry a good many things with regard to your new school?”
She raised her queer, bright eyes, and looked him full in the face. “I have told Merry a few things,” she said; “but, most of all, I have assured her that Aylmer House is the happiest place in the world.”
“Happier than home? Should you say it was happier than home, Miss Howland?”
“Happier than my home,” said Maggie with a little sigh, very gentle and almost imperceptible, in her voice. “Oh, I love it!” she continued with enthusiasm; “for it helps—I mean, the life there helps—to make one good.”
Mr. Cardew said nothing more. After a time he bade his friends good-by and returned to Meredith Manor. In course of time the little pony-carriage was sent down to the rectory for the Cardew girls, who went back greatly elated.
How delightful their evening had been, and what a marvelous girl Maggie Howland was.’
“Why, she even manages to subdue and to rule those really tiresome boys,” said Cicely.
“Yes,” remarked Merry, “she is like no one else.”
“You have quite fallen in love with her, haven’t you, Merry?”
“Well, perhaps I have a little bit,” said Merry. She looked thoughtful. She longed to say to Cicely, “How I wish beyond all things on earth that I were going to the same school!” But a certain fidelity to her father kept her silent.