A primrose she evidently was, sweet and good and fresh like
one, with something of a flower's gravity, too. That could be
seen at a glance; also that she was rather a little person,
though full and plump in figure, and hardly pretty, at least
in contrast with her brilliant neighbour. Wych Hazel's first
words were of unbounded surprise.

'From what possible part of the clouds did you fall, Mr.
Rollo!'--then with a blush and a look of apology to Miss
Maryland, 'I ought to excuse myself; I didn't know where I was
coming. And my horse quite refused to stand upon more than two
feet at once, I found the storm uncomfortable--and so jumped
off and ran in. It's the fault of your door for being open,
Miss Maryland!'

'I am very glad,' said Primrose simply. 'The door stood open
because it was so hot. We were going to see you this afternoon
but the storm hindered us. Now, will you come up-stairs and
get on something dry?'


CHAPTER XII.

AT DR. MARYLAND'S.


They went up a low staircase and along a gallery to Primrose's
room. Large and low, as nice as wax, and as plain. How unlike
any room at Chickaree, Wych Hazel could not help feeling,