“Of course she is— she wrote most affectionately of you to grandmother. You can’t think how nicely she spoke. We were glad, we were delighted, because Maggie— dear Maggie— has had no great friends lately. Now, if you have had your tea, Miss Peel, I’ll take you about the room and introduce you to one or two people.” Priscilla rose from her seat at once, and the two girls began to move about the crowded drawing-room. Helen Marshall was very slight and graceful; she piloted Prissie here and there without disturbing any one’s arrangements. At last the two girls found themselves in an immense conservatory, which opened into the drawing-room at one end. A great many of the guests were strolling about here. Priscilla’s eyes sparkled at the sight of the lovely flowers. She forgot herself and made eager exclamations of ecstasy. Helen, who up to now had thought her a dull sort of girl, began to take an interest in her. “I’ll take you into our fern-house, which is just beyond here,” she said. “We have got such exquisite maidenhairs and such a splendid Killarney fern. Come; you shall see.” The fern-house seemed to be deserted. Helen opened the door first and ran forward. Prissie followed. The fern-house was not large; they had almost reached the end when a girl stood up suddenly and confronted them. The girl was Maggie Oliphant. She was sitting there alone. Her face was absolutely colorless and tears were lying wet on her eyelashes. Maggie made a swift remark, a passing jest, and hurried past the two into the conservatory. Priscilla could scarcely tell why, but at that moment she lost all interest in both ferns and flowers. The look of misery on Maggie’s face seemed to strike her own heart like a chill. “You look tired,” said Helen Marshall, who had not noticed Maggie’s tearful eyes. “Perhaps I am,” answered Prissie. They went back again into the drawing-room. Prissie still could see nothing but Miss Oliphant’s eyes and the look of distress on her pale face. Helen suddenly made a remark. “Was there ever such a merry creature as Maggie?” she said. “Do look at her now.” Prissie raised her eyes. Miss Oliphant was the center of a gay group, among whom Geoffrey Hammond stood. Her laugh rang out clear and joyous; her smile was like sunshine, her cheeks had roses in them and her eyes were as bright as stars. CHAPTER XI CONSPIRATORS Annie Day and her friend Rosalind ceased to laugh as soon as they turned the corner. Annie now turned her eyes and fixed them on Rosalind, who blushed and looked uncomfortable. “Well,” said Annie, “you are a humbug, Rose! What a story you told me about Mr. Hammond— how he looked at you and was so anxious to make use of you. Oh, you know all you said. You told me a charming story about your position as gooseberry.’ You expected a little fun for yourself, didn’t you, my friend? Well, it seems to me that if any one is to have the fun, it is Priscilla Peel.”