"Here is the screw-driver!" cried Bertha, out of breath with her flight along the corridor. "It's very strong, you need not be afraid of pressing on it. Can I do anything more to help you? If not, I must go. I hope it is something very nice indeed!"
"Go! you!" cried Peggy. "Oh, must you? Can't you stay and help me see what it is? It isn't any fun opening boxes alone," she added, piteously.
The girl does not live who would not rather unpack a box than eat her dinner. "If you are sure you want me," said Bertha. "I didn't want to be in the way, that was all."
"In the way! Oh, Miss Haughton! Why, you are the only friend I have here in this lonesome place."
"If I am going to be your friend, I am not going to be Miss Haughton another minute. Do you really want me to stay, Peggy?"
"I do, Bertha, indeed I do."
"Honour bright?"
"Honour brightest!"
"Hurrah, then! And now for the box!"