"That rests entirely with her," said Neighbor Tomlin.
But Margaret refused to see him again. Since her own troubles had been so completely swept away, her memory reverted to all the troubles her mother had to endure, as the result of Bridalbin's lack of fixed principles, and she sent him word that she would prefer not to see him then or ever afterward; and so the man went away, more bent on doing mischief than ever, though he was compelled to change his field of operations.
And then, after he was gone, a silence fell on the company. Nan appeared to be in a dazed condition, while Miss Fanny sat looking out of the window. Margaret, very much subdued, was clinging to Nan, and Neighbour Tomlin was pacing up and down in the library in a glow of happiness. All his early dreams had come back to him, and they were true. The romance of his youth had been changed into a reality.
Margaret was the first to break the silence. She left Nan, and went slowly to Miss Fanny, and stood by her chair. "What do you think of me?" she said, in a low voice.
For answer, Miss Fanny rose and placed her arms around the girl, and held her tightly for a moment, and then kissed her.
"But I do think, my dear," she said with an effort to laugh, "that the matter might have been arranged without frightening us to death."
"I had no thought of frightening you. Oh, I am afraid I had no thought for anything but my own troubles. Did you know? Did you guess?"
"I knew about Pulaski, but I had to go away from home to learn the news about you. Madame Awtry called my attention to it, and then with my eyes upon, I could see a great many things that were not visible before."
"Why, how could she know?" cried Margaret. "I have talked with her not more than a half dozen times."
"She is a very wise woman," Miss Fanny remarked, by way of explanation.