Meanwhile, Gerald chattered on, passing from Josiah to other of the villagers, until Mrs. Fowler, suddenly remembering that Margaret must not be allowed to overtire herself, interrupted the conversation, and sent the little boy away, promising he should come and sit with his sister again to-morrow.
"Remember to give my love to Salome the next time you see her," Margaret said. "Tell her, I hope we shall meet again soon."
Then, as the door shut on her brother, she sighed, and her mother guessed aright by the sad expression of her face that her thoughts were troubled ones and anything but conducive to peace of mind.
[CHAPTER XVII.]
The Shadow Lifted.
NOVEMBER was an unusually mild month that year, so that Margaret, during her convalescence, was enabled to take long drives without any risk of catching cold. On one occasion, Salome Petherick was invited to accompany her and Mrs. Fowler when they drove to N—. And it was pleasant to see how the lame girl's countenance shone with happiness as, forgetful of her worries for the time, she enjoyed the novelty of viewing hitherto unknown scenery, for she had never been beyond walking distance of Yelton before.
"It was quite pathetic to watch the varying expressions on the poor little thing's face," Mrs. Fowler confided to her husband afterwards. "She shall accompany us again, if all's well. Have you noticed how she has changed lately? The first time I saw her, she had such a pretty brown complexion, and now she is so pale, and her eyes so big and hollow. I wonder what ails the child."
"Privation and trouble, I'm afraid, judging from what I hear," Mr. Fowler responded gravely. "She is badly fed, works hard, and is always grieving on her father's account."
Mrs. Fowler sighed. She was deeply interested in Salome, but there seemed little she could do for her. The idea crossed her mind that she might remonstrate with Josiah concerning his treatment of his little daughter, but she shrank sensitively from doing so.
Meanwhile, there was little fishing being done at Yelton during those mild November days, when the ocean was as smooth as a duck pond, and there was not a breath of wind blowing, so that Josiah and his boon companions had plenty of time on their hands. The "Crab and Cockle" had most of their society, and their homes suffered in consequence.