Before any girl could leave the drawing-room it was necessary that she should ask Mrs. Ward's permission. So Maggie now went up to that good lady and asked if she might go and look at her parcel. "A parcel for you, dear?" said Mrs. Ward. "And you want to see its contents? But bring it in here; we shall all be delighted to look at it--sha'n't we, girls?" Maggie went away, wondering a good deal. Cicely accompanied her. Miss Johnson also appeared on the scene. "Why, Maggie," she said, "what can you have got? Such a huge box, and all covered over with brown paper! I don't suppose Mrs. Ward would really like that box to be brought into the drawing-room. I'll just go and ask her." One of Mrs. Ward's peculiarities, and perhaps one of the reasons why she was such a favorite and led her girls with such gentle, silken cords, was her power of entering into their pleasures. She used to confess with a smile that she was like a child herself over an unopened parcel; and when Miss Johnson appeared with the information that the box was large and cumbersome, Mrs. Ward still gave directions that it was to be brought into the drawing-room. "You can put some of the brown paper on the floor, if you like, Lucy," she said, "and Maggie can show us its contents." Now, one glance at the parcel told Maggie Howland who had sent it. She recognized her stepfather's writing. That bold commercial hand was painfully visible on the label. She would have given worlds not to have anything selected for her by Martin exhibited in the drawing-room at Aylmer House. But to refuse to show the contents of the box would but raise strong suspicion against her. She therefore, although very unwillingly, followed Miss Johnson into the drawing-room. The box was laid on the floor. The lid was removed, some tissue-paper was next extricated, and beneath lay a wardrobe such as poor Maggie even in her wildest dreams had never imagined. There was a letter lying on the top which she clutched and put into her pocket. This letter was in her stepfather's writing. She could not read it before the others. Aneta and all the girls of her set, also Kathleen O'Donnell, Rosamond Dacre, Matty and Clara Roache, Janet Barns, the Tristrams, the Cardews, all clustered round the box. "Oh, what fun!" said Kathleen. "A box of dresses for you! You lucky Queen Maggie! How I wish some one would send me some clothes!" "Take them out, dear, and let us look at them," said Mrs. Ward. The first dress to be removed was a magenta cachemire. It was made with a short skirt trimmed with little frills of the same. The bodice had sleeves to the elbows, and long, coarse cream-colored lace sleeves below. The front of the dress was also much bedizened by the same coarse cream lace. Maggie felt her face nearly purple with rage. "Oh, why must all these things be looked at here?" she said; and there was a piteous note in her voice. "I don't see the necessity, dear," said Mrs. Ward kindly.