Marguerite then arose, and stole quietly along the upper hall until she sought the curious-looking apartment already described in a preceding chapter.
Master Charlie and several of his chums were seated around an old table and were having some fun over that highly intellectual game known as "old maid" or "old bachelor."
With an air of gallantry the young gentlemen arose and each had an impromptu seat for the fair visitor.
"We are not very presentable to ladies, Miss Verne," remarked a rather handsome boy of thirteen, possessed with that I-am-a-man look so amusing and comical.
"Oh, Madge, what good luck brought you to our den? Come let us make 'old maid' of you, I've been 'old bachelor' six times."
"And he is afraid that it will turn out so in reality one of these days!" said out the lad who had not hitherto spoken.
"I might as well be diverting these children as brooding over real and imaginary woes. It cannot be wrong. If papa could only look in upon us now as he often did."
"I can stay a few moments boys—that is if you will be quick." And suiting the action to the words Marguerite wedged in between two curly-headed urchins brimful of fun and mischief and ready for anything that might honestly be termed a good time.
"I thought so," exclaimed the jubilant Charlie, clapping his hands in wild delight, "Madge is old maid."
A round of applause greeted Charlie's speech and amid the general confusion Marguerite made a hasty retreat.