Margie now came nearer to where Mrs. Beach sat. The old lady was apparently in real distress, and the girl felt very sorry for her. "I am grieved, ma'am, to say or do anything to trouble you," said she very gently and tenderly; for she loved Mrs. Beach, who had always treated her well, and with perfect fairness.
"Will you tell me all that passed between my son and you?" asked the mother, with an anxious face. "I would rather know the exact truth."
"I will if you really wish it, ma'am," said the girl; "but I would rather save you the pain of hearing it. And there need be no more of this sort of thing, you know, ma'am, if you will give me leave either to be in your dressing-room or in my own bedroom upstairs."
"You really would prefer this, Margery?" said Mrs. Beach, looking at her attendant's frank, sweet young face, and thinking what an honest, straightforward girl she seemed.
"Of course I should, ma'am, very much. I should always be safe then, and no one would interfere with me."
"Then I will arrange it so," replied Mrs. Beach. "Meanwhile, go and fetch your work, my girl, and sit here for an hour. It is nearly time for Miss Mabel to go for her ride, and I shall be glad to have you with me."
Down went Margie to fetch her sewing, and there, ensconced on the sofa in her workroom, she found Nicholas Beach and Mabel Raye. The young lady's face was flushed, her black eyes blazed, while Nicholas too looked angry, though somewhat more sober than when he had first entered the room.
"So here you are, my dear!" said the young man, addressing Margie familiarly as she came in. "I thought I'd lost you when you went off in such a temper. Glad you've come back."
"For goodness sake be quiet, Nick!" hissed Mabel, more and more enraged. "As if that girl wasn't vain and brazen enough already, without any more of your compliments."
But Margie went on calmly gathering together her things, and taking apparently no notice of either of the usurpers of her domain.