ork--that is, what an extremely fine fellow your
cousin appears to be."

"Do you mind if I ask," said Margaret; "is 'cork' a complimentary term?"

Gerald blushed. "Why, you see," he said, rather ruefully, "I made up my
mind that I would drop it when I came here. 'Corker,' and
'corking'--well, it means that a person is all right, don't you know?
That he's awfully jolly, and--and--corking, in short. It's the thing
fellows say nowadays. I get into the way of it, and then I go home, and
the Mater says things to me. She doesn't like slang, and of course you
don't either, Miss Montfort. I'll try not to do it again, truly I will."

"Oh, but I don't mind that kind of slang!" said Margaret; and she
wondered at herself even as she spoke. "It--it seems so funny, somehow.
I suppose when slang is really funny--"

She looked up and caught her uncle looking at her with an expression of
amusement. She blushed in her turn, stammered, and took refuge behind
her coffee-urn.

Meantime Peggy and Philip had fallen deep in conversation. He was the
brother of Gertrude Merryweather, the beloved Snowy Owl of Peggy's
happiest school-days; that was enough for Peggy. She was used to boys
and brothers, and felt none of the shyness that often made Margaret's
tongue trip and stammer in spite of her two years' advantage. Peggy was
full of eager questionings:

"How is she looking? dear lovely thing! Do you think she will go to
college this fall? Oh, do try to make her! I do so want to have her back
again,--near us, I mean. The Fluffy enters this fall, you know; the
Snowy ought to come, too. Do try to make her, won't you, Mr.
Merryweather?"

Phil looked grave. "Said the kangaroo to the duck, this requires a
little reflection!" he said. "The child Toots has her good points, as
you observe, Miss Montfort. She is a rather nice child, and we like to
have her at home. She has been at this old school three years, and I
don't see the good of sisters if they are somewhere else all the time.
Not that I should wish to stand in the way of the child Toots; but you
see, Bell is off, too, and the Mater has been having things the matter
with her,--rheumatism and that,--and the child Toots is useful at
home,--uncommon useful she is."

"Oh! but--of course I'm aw--dreadfully sorry your mother isn't well;
but--but Gertrude wants to come, doesn't she? Oh, well, I shall hope it
will be all right. And oh! what do you think, Mr. Merryweather? The most
astonishing thi