The Children of Wilton Chase   By: L. T. Meade (1854-1914)

The CHILDREN of

WILTON CHASE

By

MRS. L. T. MEADE

AUTHOR OF

A GIRL IN TEN THOUSAND, A RING OF RUBIES, GIRLS NEW AND OLD, ETC.

NEW YORK

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS

Copyright 1891

BY CASSELL PUBLISHING COMPANY

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE

I. MARJORIE'S WAY, 1

II. SHARK, 13

III. ERMENGARDE'S SIN, 25

IV. THE DAY OF THE PICNIC, 32

V. LOCKED IN THE CUPBOARD, 62

VI. A STOLEN TREASURE, 69

VII. A GOOD, BOYISH SORT OF GIRL, 82

VIII. FATHER'S BIRTHDAY, 97

IX. FIVE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING, 104

X. THE REIGN OF CHAOS, 115

XI. AFTER THE FUN, 133

XII. AFTER THE BIRTHDAY, 150

XIII. BASIL'S OPINION, 162

XIV. I SERVE, 175

XV. LILIAS, 187

XVI. THE BEAUTIFUL DRESS, 199

XVII. THE MORE BEAUTIFUL FACE, 210

XVIII. IN THE TOILS, 217

XIX. SOME PEOPLE WHO DID NOT FLATTER, 228

XX. WHAT DID BASIL MEAN? 235

XXI. SUSY'S FEVERISH DESIRE, 241

XXII. QUITE IN A NEW CHARACTER, 250

XXIII. BLESSED AND HAPPY, 261

THIS STORY

IS DEDICATED, WITH AFFECTION, TO

MARJORY

A CHILD WHO, POSSESSING THE SPIRIT OF LOVE AND SERVICE, HAS INSPIRED THE IDEA OF THAT OTHER MARJORY WHO APPEARS IN THESE PAGES.

August, 1891.

THE

CHILDREN OF WILTON CHASE

CHAPTER I.

MARJORIE'S WAY.

"I don't care," said Ermengarde. "I won't do it! I won't obey her!"

"What are you saying, Ermie?"

Ermengarde was standing by the dressing table in her room. She had been talking half to herself; she now turned quickly round, and confronted a plain little girl of between eleven and twelve.

"Is that you, Marjorie? I didn't know you were listening. I had not an idea you were in the room."

"But what did you say, Ermie? Who is the person you won't obey?"

Marjorie had puckered up her brows. Her small, shrewd, sensible face looked full of anxiety.

"Now, look here," said Ermengarde, speaking with passion, "don't you interfere! You are always poking your finger into everyone's pie. Leave mine alone. I don't want you to meddle, nor to help me. I understand my own affairs. What is the matter? Are you going to cry?"

"No, Ermengarde. I don't cry. I think it's babyish."

Marjorie walked to the other end of the large bedroom, tied on a shabby brown hat, and prepared to leave the room. When she reached the door she turned again, and looked at her sister.

"When Basil comes home " she began.