"I have no message for them," said Marcia somewhat coldly. "I am going up to the house--that is, if I may, Miss Carter?" Marcia spoke with that sort of air which had such an effect on people slightly beneath herself. The Carters were beneath Marcia in every sense of the word, and they felt it down to their shoes, and rather disliked her in consequence. "Of course, you must come up to the house," said Penelope, although Nesta gave her such a fierce dig in the ribs for making the remark that she nearly cried out. "I have come, Nesta," said Marcia, in her kind voice, "to say that you and Molly and Ethel are expected home to-morrow. We have trespassed quite long enough on your kindness, Miss Carter," she continued. "Oh, indeed, you haven't," cried Penelope. "We like having them-- they're a right good sort, all of them. Not that I care so much for your precious Flossie Griffiths," she added, giving Nesta a dig in the ribs in her turn. "Oh, don't you? That's because you are madly jealous," said Nesta. The girls wrangled, and fell a little behind. Marcia continued her walk. Molly had sworn to herself on that dreadful night, when her mother lay apparently dying, that she would never wear the pale blue muslin dress with its forget-me-not bows again. But circumstances alter one's feelings, and she was in that identical dress, freshly washed, and with new forget-me-not bows, on this occasion. And she had a forget-me-not muslin hat to match on her pretty head. Ethel was all in white and looked charming. The girls were standing in a circle of other young people when Marcia appeared. Marcia went gravely up to them; spoke to the Carters, thanked them for their kindness, and then said quietly: "I have come here to say that father and mother expect you all to return home to-morrow. If you can make it convenient to be back after early dinner, it will suit us best. No, I will not stay now; thank you very much, Miss Carter. It is necessary that the girls should return then, for their duties await them. Mother is so much better, and she will be delighted to see them. I am afraid I must go now. At what hour shall we expect you to-morrow?" "You needn't expect us all," was on Molly's lips. Ethel frowned and bit hers. Molly raised her eyes and saw Jim looking at her. "I suppose," she stammered, turning crimson--"I suppose about--about three o'clock." "Yes, three o'clock will do nicely. I will send a cab up to fetch your luggage." "You needn't do that," said Jim; "I'll drive the girls down on the dogcart and all their belongings with them," he added. He walked a little way back with Marcia. "I am so very glad Mrs Aldworth is better. You know, somehow or other, Miss Aldworth, we felt that we were to blame for that attack. We ought not to have coaxed your sisters to come back with us that night."