"Lost what, Cousin Lavinia?" she asked, in surprise.
"My lover."
"When?"
"When I was just your age."
"Did he die?" asked Margaret in awed tones, overcome all at once with the solemnity of the hour and a strange new note in Miss Lavinia's voice.
"No, he married someone else."
"He never—never loved you, then." There was a positiveness now in her intonations.
"Yes, he did, with all his heart. His mother came between us."
Again silence fell on the room. Margaret would not look at Miss Clendenning. The little old maid had suddenly opened the windows of her heart, but whether to let a long-caged sorrow out or some friendly sympathy in, she could not tell.
"May I know about it!" There was a softer cadence now in the girl's voice.