“I heard what that lady said about me just now,” she replied, after a pause; “and—and——”
“You are angry with me. That is hardly fair—rough on an old friend, you know.”
“I thought you might have——” She stopped.
“Agreed with her. You ought to know me better than that, Margery.”
The grave tones went to her heart.
“Oh, forgive me!” she cried. “It was wrong; but—she is so beautiful, and I——”
“You are——”
“Only a village girl beside her.”
“I wonder if you know how different you are from her?” Stuart said, quietly.
Margery’s face flushed.