Having finished her letter, she thought for a minute, then wrote a careful line to Merry Cardew. She did not tell Merry about her mother's approaching marriage, but said that Molly would have news for her. In other respects her letter to Merry was very much more confidential than her letter to Molly. She assured Merry of her deep love, and begged of her friend to regard this letter as quite private. "If you feel you must show it to people, tear it up rather than do so," said Maggie, "for I cannot bear that our great and sacred love each for the other should be commented on." When Merry received the letter she neither showed it to any one else nor tore it up. She could not forget Maggie's face as she parted from her, and the fact that she had refused to accept the ten pounds which the little girl had wanted to give her in order to remove her from musty, fusty lodgings had raised Maggie considerably in her friend's estimation. Meanwhile Maggie Howland, having finished her letters, went out and posted them. She then changed her sovereign, and bought some excellent and appetizing fruit and cakes for her mother's and Mr. Martin's tea. She consulted with Tildy as to how these dainties were to be arranged, and Tildy entered into the spirit of the thing with effusion, and declared that they were perfect crowns of beauty, and that most assuredly they would melt in Mr. Martin's mouth. On hearing this Maggie hastened to change the conversation; but when she had impressed upon Tildy the all-importance of a snowy cloth being placed upon the ugly tray, and further begged of her to polish up the teapot and spoons, Tildy thought that Miss Maggie was more wonderful than ever. "With them as is about to step into the life-matrimonial, pains should be took," thought Tildy, and she mentioned her sentiments to Mrs. Ross, who shook her head sadly, and replied that one ought to do the best one could for the poor things. At three o'clock Maggie put on her hat, drew her gloves on, and, taking up a parasol, went out. "Good-bye, darling," she said to her mother. After all, she did not go to Richmond; it was too far off, and she was feeling a little tired. Besides, the thought of her father's wonderful treasures filled her mind. She determined to go to South Kensington and look at similar jewels and ornaments which she believed she could find there. It occurred to her, too, that it might be possible some day to consult the manager of the jewel department with regard to the worth of the things which her dear father had sent home; but this she would not do to-day. Her visit to the South Kensington Museum made her feel positively assured that she had articles of great value in the tin boxes.