“No, no,” she cried, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I—I cannot stay. I am sorry, believe me, to give you pain; but I—I cannot stay!” And she hurried from the room.
The man dropped back in his chair, his face white.
“She does not love me, and no wonder,” he sighed bitterly; and he went over word by word what had been said, though even then he did not find syllable or gesture that told him the truth—that she supposed him merely to be playing John Alden to his brother’s Miles Standish.
CHAPTER XXXI
The household at Hilcrest did not break up as early as usual that year. A few days were consumed in horrified remonstrances and tearful pleadings on the part of Mrs. Merideth and Ned when Margaret’s plans became known. Then several more days were needed for necessary arrangements when the stoical calm of despair had brought something like peace to the family.
“It is not so dreadful at all,” Margaret had assured them. “I have taken a large house not far from the mills, and I am having it papered and painted and put into very comfortable shape. Patty and her family will live with me, and we are going to open classes in simple little things that will help toward better living.”
“But that is regular settlement work,” sighed Mrs. Merideth.
“Is it?” smiled Margaret, a little wearily. “Well, perhaps it is. Anyway, I hope that just the presence of one clean, beautiful home among them will do some good. I mean to try it, at all events.”
“But are you going to do nothing but that all the time—just teach those dreadful creatures, and—and live there?”
“Certainly not,” declared Margaret, with a bright smile. “I’ve planned a trip to New York.”