"To-night, at eight. I shall see Tom to-morrow morning at breakfast; he won't even know that I have been in London. I am supposed to be ill in my room," she laughed. "Violent neuralgia; not able to see anybody."
"You are a wonderful woman!" Farley said, as he let her out. "But I'm not sure that I could stand her," he thought as he went back to his letters; "she is a little too diplomatic for my taste."
"It was like Farley's impudence to think I should marry him," Mrs. Lakeman said to herself as she drove along. "He's not quite in my line, I can tell him. Still, he adds a little amusement to the occasion." She was full of pleasant excitement, curious to see how much her dramatic power would accomplish with Margaret, and resolved, at any rate, to thoroughly enjoy the interview.
XXVIII
Margaret meanwhile awoke full of happiness. She was engaged to Tom Carringford; she was going back to her mother to-day—it seemed too good to be true. A telegram came from Tom before she had finished her breakfast; he was safe at Perth, and just starting onward. She wondered how Lena was, and what her illness could be. It was dreadful for Mrs. Lakeman, she thought, and she was glad that Tom was gone. The post brought a letter from her mother; it was dated two days ago; but they were slow in posting things at Woodside Farm; probably it had been put on one side and forgotten. Mrs. Vincent was not very well, it was only a cold, but it had affected her heart, the doctor said, and she must be kept very quiet; there was not the least danger, and she would write again to-morrow. She begged Margaret not to think of coming, for Hannah was very bitter—she doubted if she would let her in, and Mr. Garratt had been there yesterday and made matters worse. "Hannah is fond of saying," Mrs. Vincent went on, "that the door is locked and barred against you, and shall remain so till she is forced to open it. She told Mr. Garratt so yesterday when he wanted your address. He said he should never care for anybody but you, and she told him not to come here again, and that if he did he should find the doors shut, as you would. Perhaps it will be better when we have had a letter from your father, for she was always in some fear of him."
While Margaret was still reading the letter there came the sound of wheels in the cobbled street. Something stopped in front of the house; a loud knock echoed through it and made Margaret start to her feet. For one horrible moment it struck her that Mr. Garratt had found her out. Then the door opened and Mrs. Lakeman entered. Her face was drawn, her lips were firmly shut, a strange, uncanny expression was in her eyes.
"Margaret!" she exclaimed. "Margaret Vincent, my old lover's child. I have come to throw myself on your mercy." She pushed Margaret back on the sofa, threw herself down by her, and burst into what sounded like hysterical tears.