"My dear Margaret!"
"Oh, Maurice, do be led by me!—by anyone but her!" says Miss
Knollys, holding him, as he would have gone on. "Why can't you see?
Are you blind?"
"I really think I must be," returns he with a peculiar smile. "It is only just now I am beginning to open my eyes. My dear, good Margaret!" He lifts her hand from his sleeve and pats it softly. "You are too good for this world. It is you who are blind, really. It will take longer to open your eyes than even mine." He runs lightly past her up the stairs.
Margaret gives a little cry of despair. Colonel Neilson, catching her hand, draws her into a room on the left. The expected "Coo-ee" has been called twice already, but neither Margaret nor Neilson have heard it.
"Marian has done this," says Margaret, in great distress. He has her hand still in his, and now, half unconsciously, she tightens her fingers over his.
"That woman is a perfect devil!" says the Colonel savagely. "She is playing Old Harry with the régime here."
"I can't think what she means to be the end of it," says Margaret.
"She can't marry him herself, and——"
"She might, you know, if—if—she could manage to prove certain things."
"Oh no! I won't believe she is as bad as that," says Margaret with horror. "She has her good points. She has, really, though you will never believe me."
"Never!" says the Colonel stoutly. "The way she behaved to you this evening——"