WHEN Mrs. Lute returned to N—, she asked and obtained permission for Margaret to visit her. The little girl had not appeared very well lately, and it was thought a change would do her good, which it certainly did, for she came back at the end of a fortnight decidedly better in health and spirits.
Mrs. Fowler greeted Margaret on her return with no very great show of pleasure, though secretly, she was delighted to see her looking so well. She never told her how glad she was to have her at home again, or that she had missed her, as she had actually done. And consequently, Margaret was not a little disappointed, and the kiss she gave her governess was far warmer than the one she imprinted on her mother's fair cheek—a fact Mrs. Fowler did not fail to notice.
"I have forfeited her respect and affection," thought the mother bitterly.
"She does not care for me, she never did," thought the child.
So the estrangement between the two grew, till it was patent to everybody. Perhaps Mr. Fowler and the governess guessed the cause of it; but the servants blamed their mistress, and declared she was so wrapped up in Master Gerald, that she had no love to spare for her daughter.
On her return to Greystone, Margaret resumed her organ lessons; but she was obliged to practise in the afternoons now, as the evenings were dark.
The golden touch of autumn was upon everything; the orchards were being cleared of their fruit; and the village children scoured the country around Yelton for blackberries, and sloes, and mushrooms. At the end of September, the fine weather broke up, and was followed by the equinoctial gales, which did great damage in the Greystone gardens, the fierce wind tearing up shrubs by the roots, and the heavy rains beating down the summer flowers which had lingered late in bloom. Mr. Fowler braved the fury of the elements, and was out of doors every day; but the weather was too rough for the other inmates of Greystone, who remained in the house till the gales had passed.
Thus it was, that Margaret and Salome did not see as much of each other as they had done hitherto. But one fine October afternoon, the former paid the latter a visit, and was shocked to see how worried and ill her lame friend was looking.
The truth of the matter was, the bad weather had prevented any fishing being done, and Josiah Petherick, having no money in hand, it had been extremely short commons for him and Salome. Of course, Salome did not intimate this to Margaret, she would have been ashamed to do so; she merely said, when questioned, that she had not been very well, and turned the conversation to Margaret's late visit to N—.
"Mrs. Lute gives up the house shortly, and returns to London," Margaret explained. "But she likes Cornwall so much, that she says she shall try to come again next year, if not to N—, then perhaps to some place near. By the way, Salome, mother and father are going to London for a few days soon. Shan't we be lonely at Greystone without them? Mother says she hopes you will come and see her before she goes. Will you?"