Margaret shook her head. She did not say it, but she felt that she could not rely on Edward, while he seemed to stand between her and Philip. He came in at the moment, and she averted her eyes from him. He felt her displeasure in his heart’s core.
When they returned, sooner than she had expected, from their walk, they had bad news for her, which they had agreed it was most merciful not to delay. They had seen Enderby in Mr Rowland’s gig on the Blickley road. He had his carpet-bag with him; and Mr Rowland’s man was undoubtedly driving him to Blickley, to meet the night coach for London.
“It is better to save you all further useless expectation,” observed Edward. “We keep nothing from you.”
“You keep nothing from me!” said Margaret, now fixing her eyes upon him. “Then what is your reason for not having brought us together, if indeed you have not kept us apart? Do you suppose I did not hear you send him from me yesterday? And how do I know that you have not kept him away to-day?”
“My dear Margaret!” exclaimed Hester: but a look from her husband, and the recollection of Margaret’s misery, silenced her. For the first time Hester forgave on the instant the act of blaming her husband.
“Whatever I have done, whether it appears clear to you or not,” replied Hope, “it is from the most tender respect for your feelings. I shall always respect them most tenderly; and not the less for their being hurt with me.”
“I have no doubt of your meaning all that is kind, Edward: but surely when two people misunderstand each other, it is best that they should meet. If you have acted from a regard to what you consider my dignity, I could wish that you had left the charge of it to myself.”
“You are right: quite right.”
“Then why—. Oh! Edward, if you repent what you have done, it may not yet be too late!”
“I do not repent. I have done you no wrong to-day, Margaret. I grieve for you, but I could not have helped you.”