"No—never."
She turns away deliberately and leaves the room.
CHAPTER XVIII.
HOW MARGARET STEPS INTO THE BREACH, AND LEARNS THAT ALL PEACEMAKERS ARE NOT BLESSED.
"It is quite the wisest thing to be done at present," says Margaret.
"I do hope, Maurice, you will not object to the arrangement."
She regards him anxiously. It is an hour later, and the carriage has been ordered to be at the door in fifteen minutes. Margaret has come to bid Maurice good-bye, and say a few words to him.
"I! What have I got to do with it?" he laughs contemptuously. "She has arranged everything. The farther she goes from me the better. I am sorry that the resting-place she has chosen is so near. Park Lane as usual, I suppose, Margaret? But it won't last, my dear girl. She will go farther afield soon."
"You think her fickle, I don't," says Margaret gravely. "You have misjudged her all along. I believe she loves me. I believe," slowly, "she has a great capacity for loving."
"Are you alluding to her capacity for loving Mr. Hescott?"
"That is unworthy of you," says his cousin. She rises. "I have only a few moments—and your wife is coming with me, and I would say one word to you before I go. She is young—very young. She is a mere child."