"Oh, Tilly, Tilly," she exclaimed, "did you really want to kill me?"
"I—I—I think I did," said Tilly. "I hated you, Margot, and I—I hate you now."
"Anyhow I'm going to help you to pack, poor Tilly. It's an awful thing to hate, and why should you hate one who never hated you?"
"Don't you hate me after this?" said Tilly in bewilderment.
"Oh, no, indeed; no, I love you because you are so miserable."
Suddenly Tilly found quite a different order of tears filling her eyes. Margot swept her dear, little round arms about her and took her quickly upstairs and packed for her because she was incapable of packing for herself.
Phinias Maloney's funny old cart was summoned and Tilly and her belongings were packed into it, but the last thing she remembered of Desmondstown was the sweet face of little Margot, who kissed her hand to her, and whose eyes were brimful of tears as she watched her drive away.