"Oh, yes, just because she has a rather good-looking face you go over to her side. I'm not at all sure that I like her. Anyhow, I'm not going to play second fiddle to her. There now, Dave, go and play. We're here on sufferance, so be on your good behavior. As to me, you need not be the least uneasy. I wish to remain at Sleepy Hollow, so, of course, the passions won't come. Go and play, Dave." Firefly called across the lawn. David bounded out of the open window, and Flower went slowly up to her own room. There came a lovely day toward the end of October; St. Martin's summer was abroad, and the children, with the Doctor's permission, had arranged to take a long expedition across one of the southern moors in search of late blackberries. They took their dinner with them, and George, the under-gardener, accompanied the little party for protection. Nurse elected, as usual, to stay at home with baby, for nothing would induce her to allow this treasured little mortal out of her own keeping; but the Doctor promised, if possible, to join the children at Troublous Times Castle at two o'clock for dinner. This old ruin was at the extreme corner of one of the great commons, and was a very favorite resort for picnics, as it still contained the remains of a fine old banqueting-hall, where in stormy or uncertain weather a certain amount of shelter could be secured. The children started off early, in capital spirits. A light wind was blowing; the sky was almost cloudless. The tints of late autumn were still abroad in great glory, and the young faces looked fresh, careless, and happy. Just at the last moment, as they were leaving the house, an idea darted through Polly's brain. "Let's have Maggie," she said. "I'll go round by the village and fetch her. She would enjoy coming with us so much, and it would take off her terror of the moor. Do you know, Helen, she is such a silly thing that she has been quite in a state of alarm ever since the day we went to the hermit's hut. I won't be a moment running to fetch Mag; do let's have her. Firefly, you can come with me." Maggie, who now resided with her mother, not having yet found another situation--for Mrs. Power had absolutely declined to have her back in the kitchen--was a favorite with all the children. They were pleased with Polly's proposal, and a chorus of "Yes, by all means, let's have Maggie!" rose in the air. Flower was standing a little apart; she wore a dark green close-fitting cloth dress; on her graceful golden head was a small green velvet cap. She was picking a late rose to pieces, and waiting for the others with a look of languid indifference on her face. Now she roused herself, and asked in a slightly weary voice: "Who is Maggie?" "Maggie?" responded Helen, "she was our kitchen-maid; we are all very fond of her--Polly especially." "Fond of a kitchen-maid? I don't suppose you mean that, Helen," said Flower. "A kitchen-maid's only a servant."