MARION slept late in the morning, and when she waked it was a minute or two before she knew where she was. The house was very still. She could hear birds singing and chickens cackling and crowing as if she were at home, but the room was a very different one from that she had called hers so long in the old McGregor house at Holford. It was much larger and higher, for one thing. There were two windows hung with pretty muslin curtains. The walls were covered with cheerful paper and the floor with fine checked India matting such as Marion had admired on Kitty Tremaine's floor in Holford. The furniture was of solid black walnut, mostly new, but with an old-fashioned bit here and there, such as a large mirror in a gilt frame, over the tall mantel-piece, and a pretty little workstand with brass trimmings. Altogether it was pretty as any room Marion had ever seen, and certainly as different as possible from the lodging which she had imagined herself occupying.
There was no need even of the scrap-bag and mats which she had already begun, for a very pretty bag hung by the side of the dressing-table and the blue and white china on the wash-stand was abundantly supplied with braided mats. Marion felt positively disappointed. She looked at her watch. It was past eight. She hastened to rise and dress herself. She found her dressing-table supplied with a new set of toilet articles, the nicest she had ever possessed.
"Money must be plenty, at any rate," she thought.
She explored the room still further, and discovered a large light closet in which was her trunk, and where she found also a great provision of hooks, shelves and drawers. Certainly she had never in her life been so sumptuously lodged. She dressed herself neatly in one of her new morning dresses, and went down-stairs, all the time more and more surprised at what she saw.
The house was evidently an old one, large and very solidly built. A second staircase led to an upper story. There was a large window in the end of the hall, on each side of which were book-cases filled with books. While Marion was hesitating which way to turn, an outside door opened and a fair, rather stout lady appeared, carrying a little covered dish in one hand and a basket in the other.
"Oh!" said the lady, after a minute's hesitation. "You are Marion, are you not?"
"Yes, ma'am," answered Marion, wondering who the lady could be.
"To be sure," said the stranger, setting down her basket and shaking her hand heartily.
"How do you do, dear?"
"Very well, thank you," answered Marion, wondering more and more.