The railroad trip to Morristown lasted about four hours, and Marjorie greatly enjoyed it.  Mr. Maynard had put the two travellers into their chairs in the parlor car, and arranged their belongings for them.  Marjorie had brought a book to read and a game to play, but with the novel attractions of the trip and the care of her kitten, she was not likely to have time hang heavily on her hands.

Mrs. Maynard read a magazine for a time, and then they were summoned to luncheon in the diningcar.  Marjorie thought this great fun, for what is nicer than to be a hungry little girl of twelve, and to eat all sorts of good things, while flying swiftly along in a railroad train, and gazing out of the window at towns and cities rushing by?

Marjorie sat opposite her mother, and observed with great interest the other passengers about.  Across the car was a little girl who seemed to be about her own age, and Marjorie greatly wished that they might become acquainted.  Mrs. Maynard said that after luncheon she might go and speak to the little stranger if she chose, and Marjorie gladly did so.

“I wonder if you belong in my car,” said Marjorie, by way of opening the conversation.

“I don’t know,” said the other child; “our seats are in the car just back of this.”

“We are two cars back,” said Marjorie, “but perhaps your mother will let you come into my car a while.  I have my kitten with me.”

“Where is it?” asked the other little girl.

“I had to leave it with the porter while we came to luncheon.  Oh, she’s the loveliest kitten you ever saw, and her name is Puff.  What’s your name?”

“My name is Stella Martin.  What’s yours?”

“My real name is Marjorie Maynard.  But I’m almost always called Midge or Mops or some name like that.  We all have nicknames at home; don’t you?”

“No, because you see I haven’t any brothers or sisters.  Mother always calls me Stella.”

“Well, let’s go and ask her if you can’t come into my car for a while.  My mother will look after you, and then you can see the kitten.”

After some courteous words of explanation between the two mothers, Stella was allowed to play with Marjorie for the rest of the journey.

Seated together in one of the big Pullman easy chairs, with the kitten cuddled between them, they rapidly made each other’s acquaintance, and soon became good friends.  They were not at all alike, for Stella Martin was a thin, pale child with a long braid of straight, light hair, and light blue eyes.  She was timid, too, and absolutely devoid of Marjorie’s impetuosity and daring.  But they were both pleased at the discovery that they were to be near neighbors throughout the summer.  Stella’s home was next-door to Grandma Sherwood’s, although, as both country places were so large, the houses were some distance apart.

Next beyond Stella’s house, Marjorie remembered, was where Molly Moss lived, and so the outlook seemed to promise plenty of pleasant company.