“Yes, I will see Tom to-morrow, and if she can spare the time we will go to Miss Wentworth and lay the matter before her.”
The next day Margaret and Tom had a long talk about it, and Tom was most enthusiastic.
“Margaret, I scarcely like to say it, because of John, for I do not know what he could do without you; but you were made for this work. There is nothing that so badly needs to be done just now, and God has given you a very motherly nature on purpose for it. Do not hastily refuse this call. I think it is from God.”
“I have not told my grandfather yet, and I must. And we shall hear what Miss Wentworth says about it. But, Tom, most of all I want to know whether there is any hope of John’s mother receiving me kindly.”
“Margaret, I am afraid there is not the very least chance of it. Aunt is really dreadful about John’s love for you; and it is only right that I should tell you.”
“Then, Tom,” said Margaret, slowly, “I think I must do this thing that I am asked; not that I am able or worthy, but because it is given me to do. I dare not separate John’s mother from him, and the state of things that exists at present is really injuring him; so, for his sake—yes, and for another reason—I feel as if I must say Yes. It is such a splendid mission to be engaged in.”
“It is. And if I may help you, Margaret, I will. But we must not be hasty. We have others to think of.”
“Yes,” said Margaret; “and I think John’s mother shall decide it for me.”
CHAPTER XXVII.
A VISIT OF INQUIRY.
Many troubles are worse in anticipation than in reality. Mr. Felix Stapleton had cut the difficult knot of his affairs in the only right and direct way; and all the haunting spectres that had filled his days with care, and made his nights hideous, vanished at once.