"You must tell me nothing," she exclaimed, quickly. "I have promised—and—you must not make it harder for me."
"Then it is hard?"
"I am giving up my life!"
"But perhaps, Margaret, what I have to say may change——"
"Nothing can change things now," and Margaret spoke firmly; "I cannot go back, and he has done so much."
"It is such a miserable mistake," and poor Mrs. Dorriman thought how she could say a word, "others would do as much——"
"But Grace will not have it. No! do you think I should have consented, do you think I would consent, if it had been possible.... Oh!" she exclaimed and a look of terror came into her eyes, "even this is wrong. I should not speak of it so. Dear!" she continued, turning to poor bewildered Mrs. Dorriman, "you must help me, and not let me feel that you do not understand me. I have thought about it and prayed about it, and I must go through with it." She paused to regain her self-command, and then added, "and there is no one else."
"There is no one else," repeated Mrs. Dorriman, vaguely; "I thought there was somebody else."
Had she too seen that dawning passion which Margaret had stifled so vehemently? A burning flush rose to her face, and she answered angrily, "There is no one else."
And then they talked of other things.