"How noisy that girl is!" said Mrs. Howland. "Well, I am better now; I'll just go into our bedroom and get tidy. I'll be back in a few minutes. I mustn't be seen looking this fright when Mr. Martin comes." "But who is Mr. Martin?" said Maggie. "You will know presently," said Mrs. Howland. "It's about him that I have news." Maggie felt her heart thumping in a very uncomfortable manner. The bedroom which she and her mother shared together--that is, when Maggie was with her mother--was at the back of the drawing-room. Mrs. Howland remained there for about five minutes, and during that time Maggie helped herself to a cup of tea, for she was feverishly hot and thirsty. Her mother returned at the end of five minutes, looking wonderfully better, and in fact quite rejuvenated. Her dress was fairly neat. She had a slight color in her pale cheeks which considerably brightened her light-blue eyes. Her faded hair was arranged with some neatness, and she had put on a white blouse and a blue alpaca skirt. "Oh mother," said Maggie, hailing this change with great relief, "how much better you look now! I am a comfort to you, am I not, mums? I sha'n't mind coming back and giving up all my fun if I am a real comfort to you." "I wouldn't have sent for you but for Mr. Martin," said Mrs. Howland. "It was he who wished it. Yes, I am much better now, though I cannot honestly say that you are the cause. It's the thought of seeing Mr. Martin that cheers me up; I must be tidy for him. Yes, you may pour out a cup of tea for me; only see that you keep some really strong tea in the teapot for Mr. Martin, for he cannot bear it weak. He calls weak tea wish-wash." "But whoever is this mysterious person?" said Maggie. "I will tell you in a minute or two. You may give me one of those little cakes. No, I couldn't stand muffins; I hate them in hot weather. Besides, my digestion isn't what it was; but I shall be all right by-and-by; so will you too, my dear. And what I do, I do for you." "Well, I wish you would tell me what you are doing for me, and get it over," said Maggie. "You were always very peculiar, mums, always--even when dear father was alive--and you're not less so now." "That's a very unkind way for a child to speak of her parent," said Mrs. Howland; "but I can assure you, Maggie, that Mr. Martin won't allow it in the future." Maggie now sprang to her feet. "Good gracious, mother! What has Mr. Martin to do with me? Is he--is he--it cannot be, mother!" "Yes, I can," said Mrs. Howland. "I may as well have it out first as last. I am going to marry Mr. Martin." "Mother!" There was a wailing cry in Maggie's voice. No girl can stand with equanimity her mother marrying a second time; and as Maggie, with all her dreams of her own future, had never for an instant contemplated this fact, she was simply staggered for a minute or two.