I have a little sister, too; her name is Blossom. That is, her real name
is Mary, and we call her Blossom."

"Kit and Blossom; and what is your name?" Rosalind asked.

"Maurice Roberts."

Rosalind tossed back her hair and began to twist it into a shining rope.
"I am Rosalind Whittredge," she said. "I should not think you would ever
be unhappy," she added.

"Do you know, I saw you last Sunday when you were studying something. Kit
and I peeped at you through the hedge."

"I was learning a hymn for grandmamma. Why didn't you speak to me?"

"I didn't know whether you'd like it."

"Why, of course I should have liked it. I was beginning to think that day
I should never get acquainted with any one, and I was feeling dreadfully
lonesome when the magician came in."

"The magician?" Maurice exclaimed. Certainly this was a singular girl who
talked about magicians in an everyday tone.

Rosalind laughed. "I mean Morgan, who does cabinet work. Do you know him?"

"Everybody in Friendship knows Morgan. He is a good fellow, too. Why do
you call him the magician?"