But next day, as Iola was planning to go to the station, Margaret would not have it.
“Why should you go? You have nothing to say but what would give him pain. Do you want him to despise you and me to hate you?”
But Iola was resolved to have her way. It was Mrs. Duff Charrington who fortunately intervened and carried Iola off with her to spend the afternoon and evening.
“Just a few musical friends, my dear. So brush up and come away. Bring your guitar with you.”
Iola demurred.
“I don't feel like it.”
“Tut! Nonsense! The lovelorn damsel reads well in erotic novels, but remember this, the men don't like stale beer.”
This bit of worldly wisdom made Iola put on her smartest gown and lay aside the role she had unconsciously planned to adopt, so that even Mrs. Duff Charrington had no fault to find with the sparkling animation of her protegee.
But to the three who stood together waiting for the train to pull out that night there was only dreary, voiceless misery. There was no pretence at anything but misery. To the brothers the moment of parting would be the end of all that had been so delightful in their old life. The days of their long companionship were over, and to both the thought brought grief that made words impossible. Only Margaret's presence forced them to self-control. As to Margaret, Dick alone knew the full measure of her grief, and her quiet, serene courage filled him with amazed admiration. At length came the call of the bustling, businesslike conductor, “All aboard!”
“Good-bye, Margaret,” said Barney simply, holding out his hand. But the girl quietly put back her veil and lifted up her face to him, her brave blue eyes looking all their love into his, but her lips only said, “Good-bye, Barney.”