"I may come and see you?" asks he.
"If you will, but I shall certainly not send Tita out of the way to oblige you."
"Well, I shall take my chance."
"It is in your own hands."
Margaret sweeps past him. She is at this moment nearly as angry with him as Tita is.
CHAPTER XIX.
HOW MARGARET AND TITA TREAD MANY PATHS; AND HOW FORTUNE, HAVING TURNED HER BACK ON TITA, SHOWS A SMILING FRONT TO MAURICE.
It is six months later, and now fair May has come to us on young and eager feet. On young feet barely born, and with a smile so slight that one dare hardly call it sunshine. At this moment a little gleam of it, just strong enough to make one dream of summer, but not enough to warm one, is stealing timidly though the windows of Margaret's smaller drawing-room in Park Lane.
She had taken Tita abroad almost immediately after the rupture at Oakdean, explaining to their mutual friends that it was necessary for Tita's health that she should winter in the south. An explanation received face to face with delicate appreciation and warm sympathy, and much laughed over later on. Poor old Margaret! As if one didn't know! As if one couldn't see! That cousin, you know! He was—he really was far too good-looking. And then this sudden loss of fortune! After all, these unequal marriages never do. Rylton plainly was tired of her, and when the money went—well, then Margaret took her off his hands. Of course Margaret was better than the cousin—more respectable. This brilliant bit of wit was received with much soft smothered mirth. But as for Rylton—he certainly had not come well out of it. A fellow should stick to his bargain, any way. He had married her for her money, and that gone, had shaken himself free. It was certainly playing it a little low down. By the way, wouldn't Mrs. Bethune be singing hymns over it all! Such a downfall to her rival! There was a good deal of gossip about it, here and there.
Mrs. Chichester, who has a heart somewhere in her lean, frivolous body, had come all the way up from Devonshire, where she was then falsely beguiling a most unlucky young curate, to see Margaret, on the latter's way through town, and express her sorrow for Tita. She had honestly liked Tita, and she said to Margaret many kindly things about her. So many, and so kindly indeed, that Margaret almost forgave her that reprehensible flirtation with Captain Marryatt. But then Margaret, at that time, knew nothing of the luckless curate!