Ellen took into her own Margaret's hand, and said feebly that it was a beautiful day and she hoped Miss Lee found Greenhill a pleasant place to—visit.
Sydney moved slowly out of the tent and found Jack Desmond. He was standing near with Camille, who looked her best in a pale-blue summer silk and a black hat trimmed with roses. Jack and Camille never really knew how the great man had managed, but presently Margaret had gone away with him and his sister.
Jack and Camille looked at each other.
“Oh, Jack, ought you to have let her go?” said Camille.
“What made you let her go?” asked Jack.
“I—don't know. I couldn't say anything. That man has a tremendous way with him. Goodness!”
“He is all right here in the place, anyhow,” said Jack. “They look up to him. He is a big-bug here. Comes of a family like Margaret's, though he hasn't got much money. Some chaps were braggin' that they had a bigger show than her right here, and I found out.”
“Suppose,” said Camille, “Margaret does not come back?”
“He could not keep her without bein' arrested,” declared Jack, but he looked uneasy. He had, however, looked uneasy for some time. The fact was, Margaret had been very gradually losing weight. Moreover, she was not well. That very night, after the show was over, Bill Stark, the little dark man, had a talk with the Desmonds about it.
“Truth is, before long, if you don't look out, you'll have to pad her,” said Bill; “and giants don't amount to a row of pins after that begins.”