"And if it did, Margaret, something else would keep him."
"But it is such a long time! He may have forgotten. He may have—" "formed other ties," she was about to add, but she checked herself suddenly. "I am talking nonsense," she said hastily, "I must find something to do."
She got her work. It was a child's frock, of the same delicate material and color as that she wore.
"Maurice's favorite color," she said. "I want to have it ready for Laura when she comes back. It will go well with her golden curls, and she wants something new. Dear little one! I wonder has she forgotten me? I scarcely think so."
Adèle walked to the window to hide her tears. In the vague uncertainty, in the view of possible disappointment, there was something more pathetic in this mood of Margaret's than in that of the preceding night. She was just in time to meet Mr. Robinson's cold eyes. He had found the garden-gate open, and was walking up the narrow grass-bordered path.
One of the windows of the parlor where they were sitting opened on to the garden; the lawyer bowed politely when he saw the young lady, and with his usual obtuseness cut short the ceremony of ringing and gaining admittance in the usual way, by crossing the greensward and tapping in his peculiarly lively manner at the window.
Adèle turned round suddenly to prepare her friend for this summary entrance and to recover her own inclination for tears. Margaret's face reassured her. For the first time since Arthur had gone and the fever of hope-deferred had taken possession of her, Margaret looked really happy; her fingers, almost transparent, were flying backward and forward with the busy needle; she was looking down upon her work, which began to assume the appearance of a child's frock, with a smile. In her whole attitude there was rest.
The woman's work had taken its effect upon her mind. To be working for her lost darling made her recovery and return seem real and near to her. It brought back the quiet days when the child had been her one comfort and joy.
"Mr. Robinson is here," said Adèle, crossing the room. Margaret looked up, and met a frank smile from the outside of the still closed window. She rose, threw up the sash, and the lawyer entered, hat in hand.
"Good-morning, ladies," he said cordially. "I was beginning to fear, from the stern appearance of our young friend here, that I was to be left out in the cold. Ha! ha! not a pleasant position on a frosty day. Mrs. Grey, you look thin; not fretting, I hope, though indeed I can scarcely wonder. The absurd way in which your affairs are being conducted is really enough to worry you."