He
walked to the door and waited; then followed them out of the room.

Maggie found that her bedroom was a room at the top of the house, very
white and clean, with a smell of soot and tallow candle that was new
and attractive. There was a large text in bright purple over the
bed--"The Lord cometh; prepare ye the way of the Lord." From the window
one saw roofs, towers, chimneys, a sweeping arc of sky-lights now spun
and sparkled into pathways and out again, driven by the rumble behind
them that never ceased, although muffled by the closed window.

They talked together for a little while, standing near the window, the
candle wavering in Aunt Elizabeth's unsteady hand.

"We thought you'd like this top room. It's quieter than the rest of the
house. Sometimes when the sweep hasn't been the soot tumbles down the
chimney. You mustn't mind that. Thomas will push open the door and walk
in at times. It's his way."

"Thomas?" said Maggie bewildered.

"Our cat. He has been with us for many years now. Those who know say
that he might have taken prizes once. I can't tell I'm sure. If you
pull that bell when you want anything Martha will come. She will call
you at half-past seven; prayers are in the dining-room at a quarter
past eight. Sometimes the wind blows through the wall-paper, but it is
only the wind."

Maggie drew back the curtains that hid the glitter of the lights.

"Were those great friends of yours, those gentlemen this evening?"

"The one who wears spectacles, Mr. Magnus--yes, he is a very old
friend. He is devoted to my sister. He writes stories."

"What, in the papers?"

"No, in books. Two every year."

"And the other one?"

"That is young Mr. Warlock--he is the son of our minister."

"Does he live near here?"

"He lives just now with his parents. Of late years he has been abroad."

"He doesn't look like the son of a minister," said Maggie.

"No, I'm afraid--" Aunt Elizabeth suddenly stopped. "His father has
been minister of our chapel for twenty years. He is a great and
wonderful man."

"Where is the chapel?"

"Very near at hand. You will see it to-morrow. To-morrow is Sunday."

There was a long pause. Maggie knew that now was the time when she
should say something friendly and affectionate. She could say nothing.
She stared at her aunt, then at a long mirror that faced her bed, then
at the lighted sky. She felt warmly grateful, eager to show all the
world that she would do her best, that she w