"If I have been able to help you to your happiness this will make me glad all my life," she said. Then a gleam of humor lighted up her face. "I do not know whether you can ever make your peace with Geraldine or not," she said, "but I thought it right that you should know the truth."
He flushed with the confusion of a schoolboy.
"But to know the truth," he said; "just to know what you have told me, this has changed the face of all the earth for me. I can never thank you."
"We are even, then," she said, "for I have never tried to thank you for your many kindnesses to me."
Dr. Eldrige left the house as Margaret and Geraldine were seen coming up the street. He lifted his hat to Margaret as he passed her at the gate, and spoke to Geraldine, who was passing on.
"Miss Vane, permit me to join you," he said, and together they ascended the long hill. The setting sun blazed redly upon the church and its lingering rays shed a glory over the man and woman toiling up the long incline. When the summit was reached they paused for a few moments before the glorified church; then they passed on and down on the other side. When they parted at the door of Geraldine's home Dr. Eldrige had received permission to call later in the evening.
When he called again he found Geraldine in the library beside the fire, very much as he had seen her that other night, and his heart smote him for the injustice he had done her. She arose to meet him; he came over to her, and the love of his life, so long held in subjection, now ruled supreme. He held out his arms to her and she came straight into them.
"Geraldine, I have wanted you so--longed so for you."
"And I have loved you always, Allen Eldrige," she said.
The walk home in the winter sunshine brought a glow to Margaret's cheeks, but there was a look of pathos in her dark eyes; the slumbering fire of her spirit was burning there. She assisted Mrs. Thorpe with the evening meal, and in the fruitful silence that often means more than words, they sat together over their biscuit and tea. After supper Margaret drew her chair before the fire and remained silent with her thoughts. Mrs. Thorpe busied herself with her ever-ready work, but she spoke no word to intrude upon the girl's thoughts. When Margaret spoke at last, her voice was quiet and even.