be allowed to
become too absorbed in any particular study. He did not want me to
neglect one thing in favour of another."

"But just to take a nice, lukewarm, lady-like interest in all of them,"
said Eleanor. "I see. But please go on, and tell me some more about
yourself. Where are you off to now, and why?"

"I am going to a place called Windy Gap, near Chailfield. At least
Chailfield is the name of the station. Windy Gap is a little village four
or five miles off, and right on the top of the downs."

"And I am going to Seabourne, which is about three or four miles away
from Windy Gap, on the other side," said Eleanor. "How very funny!"

"I think it is very pleasant to hear that you are going to be so close
to me," said Margaret rather shyly. "Perhaps we shall see each other
sometimes."

Eleanor shook her head. "I, for one, shall have no time for visiting,"
she said, "as you will understand when it comes to my turn to tell you
about myself. But we will finish with you first. Why are you going to
Windy Gap?"

"My grandfather thought I was not very well, for one day he found me
talking in the wood to myself and wishing for all sorts of parties, and
so he sent for a doctor, who said I must go away for a long change; and
so grandfather wrote to Mrs. Murray, an old friend of his who lives at
Windy Gap, and asked her if she would have me on a visit."

"And didn't you nearly go off your head with delight when she said she
would?"

"No," said Margaret, with a little sigh, "for my mode of life there will
be very much the same as it has always been at home. Lessons all day
long, and no one to speak to."

"But there will be your hostess at least," said Eleanor encouragingly.
"Come, Margaret, do not despair."

"But she is deaf," said Margaret, in the same melancholy tone. "And I
believe she is also very severe. But," brightening, "I am not going to
think about her now, for I have got you to talk to for another hour.
It's just one o'clock, and my train does not go until seventeen minutes
past two."

"The 2.17 is my train too," said Eleanor. "But what do you say to having
lunch now. I am getting hungry."

She produced a little paper bag from the basket in which she carried her
books, and offered one of the two buns the bag contained to Margaret. But
the latter suddenly remembered that the housemaid Lizzie, in spite of the
confusion that had reigned in the kitchen regions since Mrs. Parkes had
been laid low, had found