This girl with her airs and graces and her comical ways was something quite new to Marjory, and she stood contemplating this wonderful and puzzling creature, when the creature suddenly seized her round the waist, waltzing out of the room with her, and calling Blanche to come too.
"Darling Maud has such wonderfully high spirits," murmured Mrs. Hilary to the empty air. She had probably forgotten that there was no one left in the room.
CHAPTER XV.
TWELFTH NIGHT.
"And hopes, perfumed and bright,
So lately shining wet with dew and tears,
Trembling in the morning light—
I saw them change to dark and anxious fears
Before the night!"—Adelaide Procter.
Blanche had told her cousin something of Marjory's history, and Maud was prepared to be much interested in her, for her life had been so unusual, so different from that of ordinary girls.
"I've never met anybody just like you," she said to Marjory as they walked across the park, "and I want to know all about you and your belongings, and above all, I ache to find out what is in that forbidden room, and why you mustn't go into it."
This was a sore subject with Marjory. She felt more than half ashamed of her uncle's eccentricity in this matter.