She had known it fairly well when she was quite a child, but had never cared to go there since the Carters had purchased it. The Carters were absolute strangers to Marcia. She had never once met them. She walked now under the avenue of splendid old beech trees, and thought of her past and future. Things were not going quite so well with herself as she could have hoped. Her life seemed to have narrowed itself into the care of one querulous invalid. It is true that the doctor had declared that but for Marcia Mrs Aldworth would not now be in the world; but there were Mrs Aldworth's own daughters; Marcia's own step-sisters. She must do something for them. What could she do? She had just turned a certain bend in the avenue, when she heard a mocking voice say in laughing tones: "I tell you what it is, I don't ever want to go back to stupid old Marcia, nor--nor to the old house. I'm as happy here as the day is long, and now that Mothery is getting well, and you let me have as much of Flossie's society as I want, I don't ever want to go home." "Hush!" said another voice. Nesta raised her head and saw Marcia. "Oh, did you hear me?" she said. "I know I was saying something very naughty; but I almost forget what it was." "I did hear you, Nesta," said Marcia. "How are you, dear? Of course, I'm not angry with you. You wouldn't have said it to my face, would you?" "Well, I suppose not," said Nesta. "Are you Miss Aldworth, really?" said Penelope, the youngest of the Carter girls. She was a black-eyed girl, with a great lot of fussy curly hair. She had rosy cheeks and white teeth. She looked up merrily at Marcia with a quizzical expression in her dancing eyes. "Yes, I am Miss Aldworth, and I have come to see my sisters, and to thank you for being so good to them." "How is mother to-day, Marcia?" said Nesta. "Much, much better." Nesta slipped her hand inside Marcia's arm. She wanted, as she expressed it afterwards to Penelope, to make up to Marcia. She wanted to coax her to do something, which she did not think Marcia was likely to do. "I generally have my own way," she said, "except with that stupid old Marcia. She never yields to any one, although she has such a kind look. Oh, I know she was good to mother that dreadful, dreadful, dreadful night; but I want to shut that tight from my memory." "Yes, do, for Heaven's sake," said Penelope. "You always give me the jumps when you speak of it." Now, Nesta was intensely anxious that Marcia should not go up to the house; there was great fun going on on the front lawn. A number of guests had been invited, and Molly and Ethel were having a right good time. Penelope and Nesta were to join them presently, but that was when Flossie arrived. They did not want Marcia--old Mule Selfish, as Nesta still loved to call her, to intrude her stupid presence into the midst of the mirth. "I am so glad mother is better; I can tell the others all about her. What message have you got for them?"