just ready for the fair maids who buy 'em!" with an attempt at
a compliment which was severely repressed by Miss Percy, who whisked
us away in a hurry lest the old man should become "too familiar".

But to return to Cathy. Whenever possible I sat next her in school, I
was her partner when we walked out "in crocodile", and she kindly
initiated me into the mysteries of cricket, Badminton, archery, and
croquet, in all of which I had hitherto been profoundly ignorant. She
was a most stimulating companion. A little older than myself, and
brought up among a family of brothers, she had all the frank open ways
of a boy, with the pretty attractive manners which often mark a
much-thought-of only daughter. To hear her talk took me into a new
world. Instead of the ordinary topics common among school-girls, the
lessons, the games, the chances for the next prize, or grumbles at Miss
Percy's tiresome rules, she would tell me about her home, and the
delightful round of hobbies and interests which seemed to make up their
life at Marshlands. I did not know before that people pressed ferns,
collected shells and sea-weeds, painted studies of birds and flowers,
scoured the hills in search of antiquities, and held classes for
wood-carving among the village boys. At my aunt's I had heard of none of
these things. I had lived almost entirely in the nursery and
school-room, and on the few occasions when I had been allowed to come
down to the drawing-room the conversation was certainly far from
intellectual.

"But do your father and mother go out to picnics, and hunt for shells,
and help you to paste sea-weeds in books?" I asked, almost
incredulously.

"Why, of course! They enjoy it as much as we do. Father is tremendously
keen on butterflies, and Mother is making a collection of mosses and
lichens. It wouldn't be half the fun unless they did everything with us.
Just wait until you come to stay at Marshlands and then you'll see for
yourself. Mother means to ask you, I know."

I very much hoped she would, as I could imagine no greater treat than a
visit to Cathy's home. I longed to see all the places she had described,
and to meet the people of whom she had spoken, and to share in the many
tempting projects which she seemed to be planning. I was proud of her
friendship, for she was popular at school, and could have taken her
choice of playmates among girls who were both older and cleverer than
myself. To be thus singled out as her special comp