"Just a little tired, perhaps. It does one good to have a chat. Don't worry yourself any more about—that—or keep away. Come in as often as you can."
Magda stood up. "All right; I will. But I really must go now, or I shall be late for lunch."
"Yes; I won't keep you. But I am glad you came, dear."
Her good-bye kiss in its tender warmth surprised and touched Magda; for she did not feel that she deserved it.
"I wonder what made me say that—about Mr. Ivor?" she debated, as she bicycled out of the town. "But it was true. I'd forgotten, till the moment when I said it, how he did look at her."
And Beatrice, left alone, stood in the room, with both hands pressed hard over her face.
"Oh, if it is! Oh, if it is!" she whispered once or twice.
Then she drew a long breath, and went back to her work quietly, but with a glad light in her eyes.
"What a child Magda is still!" she uttered aloud, with a little laugh. "I seem to be years and years the elder!"