Back by the door Nellie watched the disappearing blue draperies with wistful eyes that bore also a trace of resentment. "Go and dress" indeed! As if there could be anything more altogether to be desired than that beautiful trailing blue gown! She was even more dissatisfied ten minutes later when Miss Kendall came back in the trim brown suit and walking-hat--it would have been so much more delightful to usher into Mrs. Durgin's presence that sumptuous robe of blue! She forgot her disappointment, however, a little later, in the excitement of rolling along at Miss Kendall's side in the Hilcrest carriage, with the imposing-looking coachman in the Spencer livery towering above her on the seat in front. It had been Miss Kendall's first thought to order the runabout, but a sudden remembrance of her morning's experience a few weeks before caused her to think that the stalwart John and the horses might be better; so John, somewhat to his consternation, it must be confessed, had been summoned to take his orders from Nellie as to roads and turns. He now sat, stern and dignified, in the driver's seat, showing by the very lines of his stiffly-held body his entire disapproval of the whole affair. Nor were John and Betty the only ones at Hilcrest who were conscious of keen disapproval that morning. The mistress herself, from an upper window, watched with dismayed eyes the departure of the carriage. "I've found Patty, the little girl who was so good to me in New York," Margaret had explained breathlessly, flying into the room three minutes before. "She's in trouble and has sent for me. I'm taking John and the horses, so I'll be all right. Don't worry!" And with that she was gone, leaving behind her a woman too dazed to reply by so much as a word. Hilcrest was not out of sight before Margaret turned to the child at her side. "You said she was in trouble--my friend, Patty. What is it?" she questioned. "It's little Maggie. She's sick." "Maggie? Not _the_ Maggie, the little brown-eyed girl in the pink calico dress, who fell down almost in front of our auto!" Nellie turned abruptly, her thin little face alight. "Gee! Was that you? Did you give her the money? Say, now, ain't that queer!" "Then it is Maggie, and she's Patty's little girl," cried Margaret. "And to think I was so near and didn't know! But tell me about her. What is the matter?" CHAPTER XXIV Down in the shabby little cottage on the Hill road Mrs. Durgin walked the floor, vibrating between the window and the low bed in the corner. By the stove sat Mrs. Magoon, mending a pair of trousers--and talking. To those who knew Mrs. Magoon, it was never necessary to add that last--if Mrs. Magoon was there, so also was the talking. "It don't do no good ter watch the pot--'twon't b'ile no quicker," she was saying now, her eyes on the woman who was anxiously scanning the road from the window.