to have four gowns from Paris and London
pricked her with an intimation that the interests of life were more
varied than she had suspected. She wondered vividly what they would be
like, and recalled several of Nelly Washington's notable gowns.

"You are to have forty dollars a month after your birthday, and your
father will permit me to get you three dresses a year; everything else
must come out of your allowance. You will keep an account-book and show
it to your father every month, as I do. Oh--and there is another thing:
a Mr. Trennahan of New York has brought letters to your father. He is a
man of some importance,--is wealthy and has been Secretary of Legation
twice, and comes of a distinguished family; we must do something for
him, and have decided to ask him down to your dinner. That will kill two
birds with one stone. He can also stay a day or two, and we will show
him the different places."

"A strange man in the house for two days," gasped Magdalena, forgetting
that she was to have forty dollars a month.

"He can take care of himself most of the time. Here come Nelly."

Mrs. Washington's ponies were rounding the deer park. Magdalena craned
her neck.

"She has some one with her," she said. And in another half-moment: "Tiny
Montgomery and Ila Brannan."

Magdalena clasped her hands tightly to keep them from trembling. What
would they think of her? She saw that they were smartly dressed.
Doubtless they were very grand and clever indeed, and would think her
more trying than ever. But although all her shyness threatened for a
moment, it was summarily routed by her Spanish pride.

She rose as the phaeton drew up, and went to the head of the steps,
smiling. They might find her uninteresting, but not _gauche_.

The girls came gracefully forward and kissed her warmly.

"_Dear_ 'Lena," said Miss Montgomery. "We wouldn't wait: we wanted so
much to see you again. And besides, you know," with a mischievous smile,
"we owe you a great many luncheon calls."

Miss Brannan exclaimed almost simultaneously, "How you have improved,
'Lena! I should never have known you." And if her tone was conventional,
it fell upon ears untuned to conventions.

It was Magdalena's first compliment, and she thrilled with pleasure. "My
face looks very much the same in the glass," she said. "But I am glad to
see you back. Let us sit on this side."

She led the girls a little distance down the verandah; she was trembling
inwardly, but felt