The soft voice and kind words melted the girl's anger. She began to sob violently.
"What are you unhappy about?" asked Miss Gregson.
Meg sat up, wiping her eyes with her lace pocket handkerchief which seemed somehow so incongruous with the speaker.
She stuffed it into her mouth to prevent her sobs being heard, a habit of hers which was very distasteful to Sheila who had reproved her for it more than once.
Then dropping her handkerchief she started up, throwing her arms over her head in a wild way that nevertheless, Miss Gregson could not help noticing, became her. She stood up before her, tall, and strong, but the picture of despair.
"If I only knew where to go to I'd go right away," she said.
"Has anything happened to make you so sad?" asked Miss Gregson.
"Yes, it has been happening for days and days. Sheila don't love me as she used to do. I can never please her or do anything right, and try and try as I may, it ain't no good. I worry about it till it makes me nearly mad. I couldn't stop in to-night. I wanted the stars and the darkness, and I wanted to feel once more what it would be like to be without somewhere to go to at night. I just had to come."
The girl sat down again by Miss Gregson's side and covered her face with her hands.
"Is there anything else troubling you?"