"In sovereigns, please, father?"

"Yes, child, in sovereigns."

"Thank you ever so much, darling."

During the rest of the drive there was no girl happier than Merry Cardew. Mr. Cardew looked at her once or twice, and wondered what all this meant. But he was not going to question her.

When they got home he took her away to his study, and, opening a drawer, took out ten sovereigns.

"I may as well tell you," he said as he put them into her hand, "that when you go to school I shall raise your pocket-money allowance to fifteen pounds a quarter. That is quite as large a sum as a girl of your age ought to have in the year. I do this because I well understand that at Mrs. Ward's school there will be special opportunities for you to act in a philanthropic manner."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, father!" said Merry.

CHAPTER XII.

SHEPHERD'S BUSH.

While Merry was in a state of high rejoicing at this simple means of helping her friend, Maggie Howland herself was not having quite such a good time. She had been much relieved by her conversation with Merry, but shortly after the picnic-tea Aneta had come up to her.

"Would you like to walk with me," said Aneta, "as far as the giant oak? It isn't a great distance from here, and I'll not keep you long."

"Certainly I will come with you, Aneta," said Maggie; but she felt uncomfortable, and wondered what it meant.

The two girls set off together. They made a contrast which must have been discernible to the eyes of all those who saw them: Aneta the very essence of elegance; Maggie spotlessly neat, but, compared to her companion, downright plain. Aneta was tall and slim; Maggie was short.

Nevertheless, her figure was her good point, and she made the most of it by having perfectly fitting clothes. This very fact, however, took somewhat from her appearance, and gave her the look of a grown-up girl, whereas she was still only a child.

As soon as ever the girls got out of earshot, Aneta turned to Maggie and said gravely, "My cousins the Cardews are to join us all at Aylmer House in September."

Maggie longed to say, "Thank you for nothing," but she never dared to show rudeness to Aneta. No one had ever been rude to the stately young lady.

"Yes," she said. Then she added, "I am so glad! Aren't you?"

"For some reasons I am very glad," said Aneta.

"But surely for all, aren't you?"

"Not for all," replied Aneta.

How Maggie longed to give her companion a fierce push, or otherwise show how she detested her!

"I will tell you why I regret it," said Aneta, turning her calm, beautiful eyes upon Maggie's face.

"Thank you," said Maggie.

"I regret it, Maggie Howland, because you are at the school."

"How very polite!" said Maggie, turning crimson.

"It is not polite," said Aneta, "and I am sorry that I have to speak as I do; but it is necessary. We needn't go into particulars; but I have something to say to you, and please understand that what I say I mean. You know that when first you came to the school I was as anxious as any one else to be kind to you, to help you, to be good to you. You know the reason why I changed my mind. You know what you did. You know that were Mrs. Ward to have the slightest inkling of what really occurred you would not remain another hour at Aylmer House. I haven't told any one what I know; but if you, Maggie, tamper with Cicely and Merry Cardew, who are my cousins and dear friends--if you win them over to what you are pleased to call your side of the school--I shall consider it my duty to tell Mrs. Ward what I have hitherto kept back from her."

Maggie was trembling very violently.

"You could not be so cruel," she said after a pause.

"I have long thought," continued Aneta, speaking in her calm, gentle voice, "that I did wrong at the time to keep silent; but you got my promise, and I kept it."

"Yes, yes," said Maggie, "I got your promise; you wouldn't dare to break it?"

"You are mistaken," said Aneta. "If the circ.u.mstances to which I have just alluded should arise I would break that promise. Now you understand?"

"I think you are the meanest, the cruellest--I think you are----There, I hate you!" said Maggie.

"You have no reason to. I will not interfere with you if you, on your part, leave those I love alone. Cicely and Merry are coming to the school because I am there, because my aunt recommends the school, because it is a good school. Leave off doing wrong, and join us, Maggie, in what is n.o.ble and high; but continue your present course at your peril. You would do anything for power; you go too far. You have influenced one or two girls adversely already. I am convinced that Mrs. Ward does not trust you. If you interfere with Cicely or Merry, Mrs. Ward will have good reason to dislike you, for I myself shall open her eyes."

"You will be an informer, a tell-tale?"

"You can call me any names you like, Maggie; I shall simply do what I consider my duty."

"Oh, but----I hate you!" said Maggie again.

"I am sorry you hate me, for it isn't necessary; and if I saw you in the least like others I should do all in my power to help you. Now, will you give me your promise that you won't interfere with Cicely and Merry?"

"But does this mean--does this mean," said Maggie, who was almost choking with rage, "that I am to have nothing to do with the Cardews?"

"You are on no account to draw the Cardews into the circle of your friends, who are, I am thankful to say, limited. If you do, you know the consequences, and I am not the sort of girl to go back when I have firmly made up my mind on a certain point."

Maggie suddenly clutched hold of her companion's arm.

"I am miserable enough already," she said, "and you make my life unendurable! You don't know what it is to have a mother like mine, and to be starvingly poor."

"I am very sorry you are poor, Maggie, and I am very sorry for you with regard to your mother, although I do not think you ought to speak unkindly of her. But your father was a very good man, and you might live up to his memory. I saw you and Merry together to-day. Beware how you try to influence her."

"Oh, I can't stand you!" said Maggie.

"I have said my say. Shall we return to the others?" said Aneta in her calm voice.

"If she would only get into a rage and we might have a hand-to-hand fight I should feel better," thought Maggie. But she was seriously alarmed, for she well remembered something which had happened at school, which Aneta had discovered, and which, if known, would force Mrs. Ward to dismiss her from the establishment. Such a course would spell ruin. Maggie had strong feelings, but she had also self-control; and by the time the two joined the others her face looked much as usual.

On the following morning early a little girl ran swiftly from the Manor to the rectory. Maggie was to leave by the eleven o'clock train.

Merry appeared on the scene soon after nine.

"I want you, Maggie, all quite by yourself," said Merry, speaking with such excitement that Molly and Belle looked at her in unbounded amazement.

"You can't keep her long," said Peterkins and Jackdaw, "for it is our very last day, and Spot-ear and Fanciful want to say good-bye to her.

You can't have the darling more than three minutes at the most."