"Oh, thanks—but it doesn't matter. I can get some for myself presently. It's all right—don't bother about me, please." Magda was annoyed to hear a tell-tale huskiness in her own voice. That would never do. She pulled herself together, with an air of indifference. "The people over there want you. Don't stay."
Bee kept her position, and Magda examined her with more attention. She was very pretty, in her white embroidered frock and shady hat—so pale and delicate featured, with marked dark brows and a gentle smile. Yet there was something of sadness in those sweet eyes; and a wonder assailed Magda—had she given serious pain to her friend by her recent conduct?
"Bee, I want to talk with you some day," she broke out impulsively. "Not here. Another time. I want to explain—"
"Any day. You are always welcome at our house. I think I pretty well understand already. Don't you feel very glad about your brother?"
"Bee! How can I? When you know what I always expected!"
The words ended abruptly. Bee slipped her arm through Magda's, and led her into a little side-path winding among trees.
"Come, shall we have a turn through the grounds? Tea will do presently. Yes, I know you used to talk of keeping house for him some day. But that was only a dream. One knew it might never come true. And surely you must be glad about this—if it means his greater happiness. You—who are so fond of your brother! How can you help being glad?"
She would not seem to see the struggle going on at her side. Magda was in danger of a breakdown.
"Don't you see—" Bee went on—"that it is the right thing for him? If she is the one woman who can fill his life and make him happy—then, surely, he should marry. And you must wish the very best for him. Not merely that you should have something that you would like, but that he should live the fullest and most useful life possible. I don't know Miss Vincent well yet; but one can't help admiring her. And he is devoted to her—quite, quite devoted."
Magda muttered something indistinct, and they walked on in silence. On one side of them the bushes grew thinner, and they saw a seat beyond, with two ladies on it. As they passed, a voice remarked, low but distinctly—