A fresh young voice gaily greeted her and Helen Rushton stood before her, a pretty picture in her morning costume of delicate cambric.
"Madge, darling, it seems a year since I saw your dear old face!" cried Helen enthusiastically, at the same moment embracing the former in truly genuine style.
Marguerite returned her friend's salutation, and putting her into an old-fashioned arm-chair drew her own seat near and was ready for a good chat.
"Madge, I have news for you."
"Good news or bad news?" queried Marguerite.
"Both," said Helen, "can you guess?"
"Spare my patience, Helen, I am no good at guessing."
"Then you give up?"
"I do, but you know full well that I have as much curiosity as any of Eve's daughters."
"Indeed, Madge, I will not give you credit for any such thing. I do think you have the least curiosity of any girl I ever met—you are far above it, you precious darling."