"
"Oh, I see," said Maggie.
They had tea in the dusty study again.
"I'm going to change this house," said Maggie.
"Change it?" asked Paul. "What's my little girl going to do?"
"She's going to destroy ever so many things," said Maggie.
"You'd better wait," said Paul, moving a little away, "until Grace
comes back, dear. You can consult with her."
Maggie said nothing.
Next day Mrs. Constantine, Miss Purves, and Mrs. Maxse came to tea.
They had tea in the drawing-room all amongst the squashed
strawberries. Three large ferns in crimson pots watched them as they
ate. Maggie thought: "Grace seems to have a passion for ferns." She
had been terribly nervous before the ladies' arrival--that old
nervousness that had made her tremble before Aunt Anne at St.
Dreot's, before the Warlocks, before old Martha. But with it came as
always her sense of independence and individuality.
"They can't eat me," she thought. It was obvious at once that they
did not want to do anything of the kind. They were full of kindness
and curiosity. Mrs. Constantine took the lead, and it was plain that
she had been doing this all her life.
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