"What for?" she asked.

"I will tell you, darling, when I return to-night."

"Cyril, may I not come with you?"

"I think not, my love. Make all the young people as happy as you can.

I'm just off to the station, in the motor-car."

Mr. Cardew left his wife's room. The girls were told at breakfast that their father had gone to London; but as this frequently happened, and was invariably connected with that business which they knew nothing whatever about, they were not keenly interested. As a matter of fact, they were much more absorbed in getting things ready for the entertainment of their friends; and in this Mrs. Cardew very heartily joined them. She proposed that during Maggie Howland's visit the five girls should have as happy a time together as possible; and as the weather was perfect the invariable picnics and gipsy teas were arranged for their benefit.

"You can all make yourselves happy here to-day, my darlings," said Mrs. Cardew, addressing Cicely and Merry. "To-morrow, when your father is here, the Tristrams, he and I, and you girls will have a very pleasant picnic to the Aldersleigh woods. We will arrange it to-day, for there is nothing your father enjoys more than a whole, long, happy day in the open air. I will speak to Mrs. Fairlight, and tell her to have all things in readiness for our picnic."

"Oh mummy, how good! how good!" said Merry, clasping her mother's hand. Then she added, "Mummy, is it true that Miss Beverley is never going to teach us any more?"

"I am afraid it is only too true, Merry; but this is holiday-time, darling; we needn't talk of your education just at present."

"Only, we must be educated--mustn't we, mother?"

"Of course, dearest. Your father will see to that."

Merry ran off to join her sister, and it is not too much to say that the whole of that glorious day was one of unalloyed pleasure. The Tristram girls were always delightful to the Cardew girls, but now that they were accompanied by Maggie Howland there was a great addition to their charm. Nevertheless, Maggie, with her purpose full in view, with her heart beating a little more quickly than usual when she heard that Mr. Cardew had gone to London, religiously avoided the subject of the life at Aylmer House. She felt, somehow, that she had done her part. A great deal of her own future depended on these two girls coming to Aylmer House. She would make use of them--large use of them--at school. She was fond of Molly and Belle; but they were poor.

Maggie herself was poor. She wanted to have rich friends. The Cardews were rich. By their means she would defeat her enemy, Aneta Lysle, and establish herself not only in the school but with regard to her future life. Maggie felt that she could make herself indispensable to Cicely and Merry. Oh yes, they would certainly go to Aylmer House in September. She need not worry herself any further, therefore, with regard to that matter. Little would they guess how much she had really done toward this desirable goal, and how fortunate circ.u.mstances had been in aiding her to the accomplishment of her desire. It was enough for Maggie that they were certainly going. She could, therefore, give herself up to enjoyment.

With Maggie Howland enjoyment meant a very different thing from what it does to the average English girl. She enjoyed herself with all her heart and soul, without one single reservation. To see her face at such moments was to behold pure sunshine; to hear her voice was to listen to the very essence of laughter and happiness. She had a marvelous power of telling stories, and when she was happy she told them with such verve that all people within earshot hung on her words.

Then she could improvise, and dance, and take off almost any character; in short, she was the life of every party who admitted her within their circle.

Meanwhile a rather tired and rather sad man found himself, very much against his will, in London. He said to himself, "This wonderful Mrs.

Ward will not be at Aylmer House now. These are the holidays, and she will be probably miles away. I will go to see her. Yes, but she won't be in; that alone will clinch the matter. But first I will pay a visit to Lucia Lysle; she said she would be in London--she told my dear wife so. But Lucia is so erratic, it is most improbable that she either will be at home."

Mr. Cardew drove first of all to Lady Lysle's house in Hans Place. He asked if she was within, and, very much to his annoyance, the servant replied in the affirmative. He entered Lady Lysle's drawing-room feeling rather silly. The first person he saw there was a tall, slim, lovely girl, whom he did not recognize at first, but who knew him and ran up to him and introduced herself as Aneta.

"Why, my dear," he said, "how are you? How you have grown!"

"How is dear Cousin Sylvia, and how are Cicely and Merry?" asked Aneta. "Oh, I am very well indeed, Mr. Cardew; I don't suppose anybody could be anything but well who was lucky enough to be at Aylmer House."

"Mrs. Ward's school?" said Mr. Cardew, feeling rather shy and almost self-conscious.

"Of course. Don't you know Mrs. Ward, Mr. Cardew?"

"No, my dear, I don't."

"It's the most marvelous school in the world," said Aneta with enthusiasm. "I do wish you would send Cicely and Merry there. They would have a good time."

"Is your aunt in?" said Mr. Cardew, a little restlessly.

"Oh yes; she'll be down in a minute."

Lady Lysle now hurried into the room.

"How do you do, Cyril?" she said. "I didn't expect to find you in town just now. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I am rather anxious to have a chat with you," replied Mr. Cardew.

"Aneta darling, you had better leave us," said her aunt.

The girl went off with a light laugh. "Auntie," she said, "I've just been telling Mr. Cardew that he ought to send Cicely and Merry to Aylmer House." She closed the door as she made this parting shot.

"As a matter of fact, I agree with Aneta," said Lady Lysle. "A couple of years at that splendid school would do the girls no end of good."

Mr. Cardew was silent for a minute. "I may as well confess something to you, Lucia," he said then.

"What is it, Cyril?"

"I have by no means made up my mind; but we are very much annoyed at the illness of our daily governess Miss Beverley, and at the girls'

music-master Mr. Bennett removing to London. So I just thought I would ask you a question or two about this wonderful Mrs. Ward. I don't suppose for a single moment I should dream of sending the children there; and, besides, she is not in London now, is she?"

"Yes, she is," replied Lady Lysle. Mr. Cardew felt at that moment that he hated Mrs. Ward. "She came to see me only last evening. She is leaving town to-morrow; but if by any chance you would like to go and see her, and thus judge of the school for yourself--it would commit you to nothing, of course--she will, I know, be at home all this morning."

"Dear, dear!" said Mr. Cardew. "How very provoking!"

"What do you mean, Cyril?"

"Nothing, nothing, of course, Lucia. But if, as you say, the school is so popular, there will be no vacancies, for I think some one told me that Mrs. Ward only took a limited number of pupils."

"There are two vacancies at the present moment," said Lady Lysle in her calm voice, "although they are likely to be filled up immediately, for Mrs. Ward has had many applications; but then she is exceedingly particular, and will only take girls of high birth and of very distinguished character."

"Doubtless she has filled up the vacancies by this morning," said Mr.

Cardew, rising with some alacrity. "Well, thank you, Lucia. As I am in town--came up on business you know--I may as well just have a look at Aylmer House and Mrs. Ward. It will satisfy my dear wife."

"Why, surely you don't for a minute really intend to send the girls there?" said Lady Lysle with a superior smile.

"I cannot tell what I may do. When a man is distracted, and when a valuable daily governess breaks down, and--and--don't question me too closely, Lucia, and keep our little interview to yourself. As I have just said, nothing will probably come of this; but I will go and see the lady just to satisfy myself."

"Aneta will be delighted if you do send the girls to Aylmer House,"

was Lady Lysle's last word.

She laughed as she spoke, and Mr. Cardew found himself turning rather red. He left her, called a hansom, and got into it.

"Of course the vacancies will be filled up," he said to himself as he was driving in the direction of South Kensington. He further thought, "Although that good Mrs. Ward is remaining for such an unconscionable time in town, she will very probably be out this morning. If she is out that puts an end to everything; but even if she is in, she must ave filled up her vacancies. Then I shall be able to return to the Manor with a quiet mind. I'll have done my best, and the thing will be taken out of my hands. Dear little Merry! I didn't like that discontent on her sweet face. Ah, well, she can't guess what school is like. It's not home; but I suppose the educational advantages would be greater, and a man must sacrifice himself for his children. Odd what that queer little Miss Howland told me last night: that I was approaching a deed of self-sacrifice. She's a queer girl, but quite nice; and Aneta is a charming creature. I could never desire even one of my own precious girls to look nicer than Aneta does. Well, here I am. Now, then, what will Fate decide?"

Mr. Cardew sprang from the hansom, desired the man to wait, ran up some low steps, and rang the bell at the front door of a stately mansion.

A smiling, very bright-looking maid-servant opened it for him.

"Is Mrs. Ward, within?" questioned Cardew.

"Yes, sir."