“Not I. I can’t be bothered,” said Peterkins.
“Please take it away at once,” said Maggie.
Andrew’s brow puckered into a frown.
“But you’ll see ’em, and he’s got five!” he said in a most distressed voice.
“Honor bright,” said Maggie, “I’ll turn my back and shut my eyes. Jackdaw shall show me his rabbits himself.”
Peterkins immediately removed the door, dragging it to its former place, where it leaned against a high wall. He then rushed up to Maggie.
“I’ve done it,” he said. “Promise you won’t like his bunnies.”
“Can’t,” said Maggie, “for I’ll love ’em.”
“Well, at least promise you won’t love him.”
“Can’t,” said Maggie again, “for I shall.”
“I’ll die of raging jealousy,” said Peterkins.
“No, you won’t, you silly boy. Get off to the house and make yourself tidy. Come along, Belle.”
“I say, Maggie,” said Belle, “you mustn’t set those two boys by the ears. They’re fond enough of each other.”
“Of course I’ll do nothing of the kind,” said Maggie. “That’s a charming little chap, and Spot-ear is my rabbit as well as his. Jackdaw shall share two of his rabbits with me. Oh, it is such fun turning people round your little finger!”
Just then Molly, rather red in the face, ran up.
“Oh, you darling, darling Maggie!” she said. “So you’ve come!”
“Come!” cried Maggie. “I feel as if I’d been here for ever.”
“I am delighted to see you,” said Molly.
She kissed her friend rapturously. Maggie presented a cool, firm, round cheek.
“Oh, how sweet you look, Mags!”
“Don’t talk nonsense, Molly; I’m not a bit sweet-looking.”
“To me,” said Molly with fervor, “You’re the loveliest girl in all the wide world.”
“I’m very ugly, and you know that perfectly well,” said Maggie; “but now don’t let’s talk of looks.”
“Whatever were you doing in this part of the garden?” inquired Molly.
“Oh, she was making love to Andrew,” remarked Belle. “She calls him Peterkins, and he allows it, and he has given her one-half of Spot-ear; and she means to make love to Jack, and he’s to give her a couple of his rabbits – I mean, to share them with her. She’s more extraordinary than ever, more altogether out of the common.”
“As if I didn’t know that,” said Molly. “It’s all right about this afternoon, Maggie. Oh, what do you think? We’re to stay to supper, and I have a special invitation for father and mother to come and join us then. Won’t it be fun! I do wonder, Maggie, if you will like the Cardew girls.”
“Probably not,” replied Maggie in a very calm voice; “but at least I can promise you one thing: they’ll both like me.”
“No doubt whatever on that point,” replied Belle with fervor.
They entered the house, and soon found themselves seated round the table. Mr. Tristram greeted Maggie with his usual gentle dignity. Molly delivered herself of her message from the Castle. Mr. and Mrs. Tristram said that they would be delighted to join the Cardews at supper.
The meal was proceeding cheerfully, and Maggie was entertaining her host and hostess by just those pleasant little pieces of information which an exceedingly well-bred girl can impart without apparently intending to do so, when a shy and very clean little figure glided into the room, a pair of bright-brown eyes looked fixedly at Maggie, and then glared defiance at Belle, who happened to be seated near that adorable young person.
Peterkins was making up his mind that in future that coveted seat should be his – for he and Maggie could talk in whispers during the meal about Spot-ear, Angelus, and the rest – when his father said, “Sit down, my boy; take your place at once. You are rather late.”
The boy slipped into his seat.
“I am glad to see you looking so tidy, Andrew,” said his mother approvingly.
Andrew looked across at Maggie. Maggie did not once glance at him. She was talking in her gentle, lady-like tone to the rector.
Presently another boy came in, bigger and broader than Andrew.
Andrew said in a raised voice, “Here’s Jack, and his hands aren’t a bit clean.”
“Hush!” said the rector.
Jack flushed and looked defiantly at Maggie.
Maggie raised her eyes and gave him a sweet glance. “Are you really Jack?” she said. “I am so glad to know you. I have been making friends with your brother Andrew, whom I call Peterkins. I want to call you Jackdaw. May I?”
Jack felt a great lump in his throat. His face was scarlet. He felt unable to speak, but he nodded.
“I have been looking at Peterkins’s rabbits,” continued Maggie. “I want to see yours after lunch.”
“They’re beauties!” burst from Jack. “They’re ever so many times better than Andrew’s. I’ve got a cream-colored Angora. His name is Fanciful, and I’ve got–”
“Hush, my boy, hush!” said the rector. “Not so much talking during meals. Well, Maggie, my dear – we must, of course, call you by your Christian name–”
“Of course, Mr. Tristram; I should indeed feel strange if you didn’t.”
“We are delighted to see you,” continued the rector, “and you must tell the girls all about your new school.”
“And you too, sir,” said Maggie, in her soft, rich voice. “Oh! you’ll be delighted – delighted; there never was such a woman as Mrs. Ward.”
“I took a very great liking to her,” said the rector. “I think my girls fortunate to be placed under her care. She has been good, very good and kind, to me and mine.”
“I wonder what he means by that,” thought Maggie; but she made no remark aloud.
CHAPTER III.
LADY LYSLE
At about a quarter to four that same afternoon three girls prepared to walk over to Meredith Manor. It was for such golden opportunities that Molly and Isabel kept their best frocks; it was for just such occasions that they arrayed themselves most neatly and becomingly. Their dress, it must be owned, was limited in quantity and also in quality; but on the present occasion, in their pretty white spotted muslins, with pale-blue sashes round their waists and white muslin hats to match, they looked as charming a young pair of English girls as could be found in the length and breadth of the land. It is true their feet were not nearly as perfectly shod as Maggie’s, nor were their gloves quite so immaculate; but then they were going to play tennis, and shoes and gloves did not greatly matter in the country. Maggie thought otherwise. Her tan tennis-shoes exactly toned with her neatly fitting brown holland dress. The little hat she wore on her head was made of brown straw trimmed very simply with ribbon; it was an ugly hat, but on Maggie’s head it seemed to complete her dress, to be a part of her, so that no one noticed in the least what she wore except that she looked all right.
Two boys with worshiping eyes watched the trio as they stepped down the rectory avenue and disappeared from view. Two boys fought a little afterward, but made it up again, and then lay on the grass side by side and discussed Maggie, pulling her to pieces in one sense, but adoring her all the same.
Meanwhile