“That will be jolly, but you must go home with me after Christmas. I don’t pretend that you will have as good a time in Philadelphia with me, as I did at your home, but I want you to come. I asked Mary to go, too, because I knew she could not afford to go way out to her own home, but she said that she was to take a little trip with her aunt, and so I shall have you all to myself. I’m rather glad of it, to tell the truth.”
“Yet you like Mary?”
“More than I ever imagined that I could. I am getting to know her better, for one thing. Of course, I shall never care for her as much as I do for you, but she is thoroughly genuine. There is nothing mean or underhanded about her.”
“No, there certainly is not, and hasn’t she improved wonderfully in personal appearance since she came?”
“You are responsible for that. Since she allows you to superintend her purchases, and tell her what colors to wear, she looks more like a girl, and less like a relic of some former geological era.”
“Poor child, she had no opportunity to learn on the farm, and very little money to spend for anything, I fancy.”
“All very true, and Professor Newton is a trump for giving her forlorn namesake this chance. Of course, she pays all Mary’s expenses.”
“Yes, and Mary is going to be a credit in the end to all her relatives and friends. I wish I could say as much of your room-mate.”
“You can’t. The most I dare hope in that direction is that Margaret will not do anything to make us ashamed of her.”
But the next week proved that this hope would not be realized.