“But, you see, Zay is quite certain she owns him, and she gave him about every other dance,” said Sophie Lawrence, as she stood on the steps with her sister.
When they were alone Willard reached over and took his sister’s hand in a warm clasp.
“Zay, I heard your fine defense for Marguerite. I was waiting at the head of the stairs. I suppose for awhile there will be some gossip and wondering, but there never can be any doubt of the truth. I think she is going to make a fine and admirable woman, and I hope you two will love each other as Vin and I always have.”
“You can’t love anyone offhand. Such a love would not be worth having, and if she wins you away from me—”
“Oh, Zay, silly child! No one can take your place in the heart of one of us.”
“I’m not sure.” Zay was crying then.
“You will be sure in the years to come. For mother’s sake let us be a united family. You can never be crowded out. And I think the more love one gives, the more one gets in return.”
The Major was waiting for them and gave them a tender good-night.
They were all busy the next day in consultations. A package of clothing came over from Barrington house that Miss Arran had put in order for Marguerite, much of it being gifts from Mrs. Barrington, accompanied with the kindliest and most delicate note. Aunt Kate had fussed a little about the child not having anything fit to wear.
“Mrs. Barrington is right, it is best not to make too great a change, though I think Marguerite’s tastes are very simple. Zay, I fancy, has had rather too much, but she is not as vain of her clothes as of her beauty, and she is a dear, sweet child. Aunt Kate, we all owe you so much, and we will see how Marguerite develops.”