Garda stood where she had been left; her face was hidden.
Margaret crossed to one of the windows and threw open the shutters; the cool night air rushed in, laden with the perfume of flowers. Then she came back to Garda. "I will go with you to your room," she said; "it is very, very late." She put her arm round her to lead her away. Garda submitted, though still with her face hidden; they went together down the hall.
There was a light in Garda's room. Margaret kissed her before leaving her. "Good-night," she said.
"I am ashamed," Garda murmured.
"Ashamed?"
"Ashamed of being glad."
Margaret went swiftly away, she almost seemed to flee. Garda, standing on her lighted threshold, heard her door close. Then she heard the sound of the bolt within, as it was shot sharply forward.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
"Did you ever hear of anything so absurd?" said Aunt Katrina. "How she will look at sea!—Those prunello gaiters of hers on deck when the wind blows!"