She woke up to the fact slowly; and it was partly from what Amy had said that she recognised the temptation as such.
Magda was not keenly observant. Thus far she had not known what Amy knew—that Bee's heart belonged to Ivor. It was the last thing Bee would have wished her to know. Here again Amy had betrayed Bee.
Not indeed directly. Her hasty speech at first only aroused Magda's ire, on her own account. She disliked Amy, and she hated to be lectured and interfered with. But as she restlessly walked her room, going over the evening in her mind, and as she thought again of Amy's words, a new sense came into them.
"Poaching! What nonsense!" What could Miss Smith have meant? Poaching in another person's preserve—that was the idea. What—in Bee's preserve? How ridiculous! As if Bee had any particular rights over Mr. Ivor! And as if Bee cared!
But did Bee not care? She recalled her own announcement of Ivor's expected arrival, and Bee's unwonted flush—then her absence, her dreaminess, her look of happiness. It all seemed rather suspicious, even though Ivor had received no especially warm welcome afterwards. Bee was always so funny about things—so slow to show what she felt. Perhaps Miss Smith knew that Bee really did care—and perhaps that was why she had meddled.
If indeed it were so—what then?
Was Magda to cut in between, to steal Ivor, to destroy her friend's hopes of happiness? It might mean all this! If left to himself, Ivor and Bee were not unlikely to draw together. But if Magda should exert herself to win him—should use the power which she believed to be hers—she might draw him on to like her more. And then—Bee might lose for ever the man who perhaps had already won her heart.
"Well, I suppose, if she does care, it would be rather mean of me, on the whole," meditated Magda.
That ought to have settled the matter, but it did not. Magda went on reviewing pros and cons.
If she now decisively drew back, and took no further pains to make herself attractive to him, she might thus secure Bee's life-long joy. Ivor, no longer drawn ever so slightly in another direction, would probably turn to Bee. Why not? They were well suited, each to the other. And Bee had saved his life!