She did not show what she felt when he strolled up to her to say good-bye, but through her glove she felt that his hand was stone cold, and as he said the half-dozen conventional words that were necessary she was sure that he smiled strangely, even mysteriously, as if such phrases as 'I hope to see you again before long,' and 'such a heavenly afternoon,' would cloak the deadly purposes of a diabolical design.
Margaret was alone with Mrs. Rushmore for a few minutes before dinner.
'Well?'
Mrs. Rushmore uttered the single word in an ejaculatory and interrogative tone, as only a certain number of old-fashioned Americans can. Spoken in that peculiar way it can mean a good deal, for it can convey suspicion, or approval or disapproval and any degree of acquaintance with the circumstances concerned, from almost total ignorance to the knowledge of everything except the result of the latest development.
On the present occasion Mrs. Rushmore meant that she had watched Margaret and Logotheti and had guessed approximately what had passed—that she thought the matter decidedly interesting, and wished to know all about it.
But Margaret was not anxious to understand, if indeed her English ear detected all the hidden meaning of the monosyllable.
'There were a good many people, weren't there?' she observed with a sort of query, meant to lead the conversation in that direction.
Mrs. Rushmore would not be thrown off the scent.
'My dear,' she said severely, 'he proposed to you on that bench. Don't deny it.'
'Good gracious!' exclaimed Margaret, taken by surprise.