He reached East Angels in the afternoon. Cindy appeared. Yes, Mrs. Rutherford and Mrs. Harold were both at home; they were in Mrs. Rutherford's sitting-room up-stairs. But when she had preceded him and opened the door of that apartment, only Aunt Katrina was there.
"Mercy, Evert! where did you come from?" she exclaimed, in a key rather higher than her usual calm tones. It seemed to him that she looked frightened.
"From New York, of course. You are alone? Where is Margaret?" He spoke abruptly.
"Oh, she's here," responded Aunt Katrina, quickly, in a reassuring voice.
But her emphasis told him that it might not be "here" long, it might be some other word. Would that word be "Fernandina?"
At any rate, Margaret was not yet gone.
"What do you mean by 'here?' She's not in the room."
"She doesn't spend every moment with me; I want some time for my own reading and—and meditation. She's in the garden, or the drawing-room, I suppose—somewhere about."
"Aunt Katrina, tell me in so many words—is she going back to Lanse?"
"Why—er—why, yes, I believe so." Aunt Katrina's voice fairly faltered.