"Well," said Peggy, breaking the silence with an embarrassed giggle, "I hope we shall know each other the next time we meet." Margaret blushed. "I fear I have been staring rudely!" she said. "But I have never had any cousins before,--never seen any, that is, and I am really so glad to know you both! Let us shake hands, girls, and try to be friends!" She spoke so pleasantly that Peggy's plump hand and Rita's delicate white fingers were at once extended. Holding them in her own, Margaret hesitated a moment, and then, bending forward, kissed both girls timidly on the cheek. "Our fathers were own brothers," she said. "We must try to be fond of each other. And now," she added, "let us all tell our tells, as the children say. Rita, you shall begin. Tell us about yourself and your home, and anything else that you will." Rita settled herself comfortably in her chair, and looked meditatively at the tip of her little boot. "My home," she said, "is in Havana. My mother was a Spaniard, a San Real. My father is Richard Montfort. My mother died three years ago, and my father has lately married again, a girl of my own age. You may imagine that I do not find home particularly attractive now, so I was glad to accept my Uncle John's invitation to spend the summer here. As I have money in my own right, I was at liberty to do as I pleased; nor in truth did my father object, but the contrary. I have never seen my uncle." "Nor I!" "Nor I!" exclaimed the other two. "But I received this note from him a month ago." She produced a note from her reticule, and read as follows. "MY DEAR NIECE: The thought has occurred to me that it would be well for you to make some acquaintance with the home of your fathers. I therefore invite you to spend the coming summer here, with the daughters of my brothers James and Roger, to whom I have extended a similar invitation. Business will unhappily prevent me from receiving you in person, but my cousin and yours, Mrs. Cheriton, who resides at Fernley, will pay you every attention. Trusting that this plan will meet with your approval and that of your father, I am, my dear niece, Your affectionate uncle, JOHN MONTFORT." "Well, I never!" cried Peggy, drawing a long breath. "Why, it's word for word like my note." "And like mine!" said Margaret. The three notes were laid side by side, and proved to be exactly alike, even to the brief flourish under the signature; with the one difference that in Margaret's the words "and that of your father," were omitted.