ere on
their way to Black Rock House for the week-end. The message came from
the clerk of the hotel, and since Peggy and her friend had already
started from New York, he knew of no way to intercept them. There was
nothing to do but make the best of the situation. Peter had the best
guest room, but Beth had decided the day before to return to the
cottage, which was greatly in need of her attention. And so McGuire
informed Mrs. Bergen of the impending visit and gave orders that Miss
Peggy's room and a room in the wing should be prepared for the
newcomers.

Beth had no wish to meet Peggy McGuire in this house after the scene
with Peter in the Cabin, when the young lady had last visited Black
Rock, for that encounter had given Beth glimpses of the kind of thoughts
beneath the pretty toques and _cerise_ veils that had once been the
apple of her admiring eyes. But as luck would have it, as Beth finished
her afternoon's visit to Peter's bedside and hurried down to get away to
the village before the visitors arrived, Miss Peggy's low runabout
roared up to the portico. Beth's first impulse was to draw back and go
out through the kitchen, but the glances of the two girls met, Peggy's
in instant recognition. And so Beth tilted her chin and walked down the
steps just beside the machine, aware of an elegantly attired lady with a
doll-like prettiness who sat beside Peggy, oblivious of the sharp
invisible daggers which shot from eye to eye.

"_You_ here!" said Peggy, with an insulting shrug.

Beth merely went her way. But no feminine adept of the art of give and
take could have showed a more perfect example of studied indifference
than Beth did. It was quite true that her cheeks burned as she went down
the drive and that she wished that Peter were well out of the house so
long as Peggy was in it.

But Peggy McGuire could know nothing of Beth's feelings and cared not at
all what she thought or felt. Peggy McGuire was too much concerned with
the importance of the visitor that she had brought with her, the first
live princess that she had succeeded in bringing into captivity. But
Anastasie Galitzin had not missed the little by-play and inquired with
some amusement as to the very pretty girl who had come out of the house.

"Oh--the housekeeper's niece," replied Peggy, in her boarding school
French. "I don't like her. I thought she'd gone. She's been having a
_petite affaire_ with our new forester and superintendent."

Anastasie Gal