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It iss a wonder they will not have been hearing anything. 'There's the MacGregors' pony-cart at last, said Allan, 'with Marjorie and Hamish in it. Let's bring the boat to the landing-stones. They will leave the trap at Mrs. MacMurdoch's cottage until we come back.
On the high front seat sat the coachman and footman in livery, who looked sufficiently dignified and responsible to take care of a merry flock of children. But, impressed by their surroundings, the children were not very merry, and Marjorie sat decorously on the back seat with Rosy Posy beside her, while King and Kitty sat facing them.
"I know I'm going to love her," returned Mary fervently. "I hope I'll be happy here, Marjorie." There was a wistful note in her voice that caused Marjorie to glance sharply at her friend. Mary's charming face was set in unusually sober lines. "Poor Mary," was her reflection. "She's thinking of her mother." But Mary Raymond's thoughts were far from the subject of her mother.
Marjorie knelt upon the steps and watched adoringly while Penrod took the drum-major's baton and, performing sinuous evolutions above the crowd, led the band.
"I call it execution by proxy. I just make an effigy." "What's that?" inquired Marjorie. "Don't interrupt," said Dick. "Guy Fawkes is an effigy, you know an old stuffed thing, with a mask on. Go on, please." "Well, then," continued the Executioner, "having made an effigy, as near like my subject as possible, I just chop its head off, and there is an end of the matter."
Laying the other letters on the table with a carefulness that bespoke their value, Marjorie hastily tore open the envelope that contained news of her friend and drawing out a single closely written sheet of paper said apologetically, "You won't mind if I read this now, will you, Connie and Mother?" "Go ahead," urged Constance. "We couldn't be so hard-hearted as to object." Mrs.
He had tiptoed down the corridor, as rigid as ever, and was sitting outside one of the shut doors. 'Look here! she said, and planted herself squarely in front of me. 'I tell you this because you you've patched up Harvey, too. Now, I want you to remember that my name is Moira. Mother calls me Marjorie because it's more refined; but my real name is Moira, and I am in my thirty-fourth year.
"You forget basket ball," reminded Muriel. "I am going to try to forget it," retorted Ronny so wearily that her tone elicited a chorus of giggles. "I don't play the game, thank my stars!" "I shall, if I have a chance," Muriel asserted. "How about you, Marjorie?" "I am going to try for a place on the team this year," Marjorie announced in a purposeful manner. "I hope we get a fair try-out.
And the man fairly snarled at them; "well, you can't go on, and you may as well understand that! Didn't Jim send you?" "Yes, Jim sent us," said Marjorie, remembering what the man who was weaving the basket had said. "Then if Jim sent you, you're here to stay. And as it's just impossible for you to get away, there's small use in your trying!
It was evident the wily intention of the Scarlet Mask to ignore the guilty truth which Marjorie had flung at the masked assemblage. "You are one against many. It is not the purpose of the high tribunal to allow you to escape. You are at our mercy until such time as we shall choose to release you. You are pleased to pretend that our identity is known to you.
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