But for all that I kent that there would be something strange about Dan's son since he rose from his bed, and I think that Margaret kent it too, for I would be seeing a wistful look in her eyes when no one would be near her.
And then there was a day when Hugh brought Helen to the house, and she was closeted a long time with Margaret.
"Your cousin Bryde will be leaving us ver' soon," said she.
I will never be the one to deny that Mistress Helen came fast to the bit.
"Will Hugh have been telling you that?" said Margaret in a certain tone.
"Hugh—no. I meet Bryde ver' often. He is good to be meeting—there is a fire and dash about him," and at that she spread out her white hands with a fine gesture, and took a turn to the window, her riding-switch at her teeth.
Now there was an intolerance about Margaret which you will find often with a proud spirit, and that Bryde should be happy away from her hurt her like a lash. The women maybe will have a name for it, for there was a smile in Helen's eyes as Margaret spoke—
"I am glad," said she, "he will have so good a friend as you. Maybe he will be staying if you were to ask him."
"And you, Margaret?"
"I do not come of folk who ask," said Margaret, with great unconcern; then for no reason seemingly (but maybe thinking of a certain time when she all but asked) her neck and face and forehead grew dark with mantling blood.