Just when you were ringing the bell I had it in my hand, and I felt so soft and loving towards you, and of course I had to run out to see you, and--; Primrose, dearest, here is Miss Martineau.

She is dreadfully opposed, and she says she won't let us go." Primrose was bending over a battered old trunk which had been hauled down from the lumber-room.

She was filling it with books, and her fair face was slightly flushed, and her eyes were brighter than usual.
"How do you do, Miss Martineau ?" she said, rising to her feet.

"It is very kind of you to call.

I feel sure you are annoyed, and think us girls rather silly, but I'm afraid we must do what we think right ourselves in this matter.