There was a change in Margaret, an inner ferment that displayed itself in the haze in her clear eyes,—the look of one whose mind broods over the past,—a heightened color, a controlled restlessness of mood. 'No, it is not settled,' thought Isabelle. 'Poor Margaret!' She went about her many duties with the same silent sureness, the same poise as before. Whatever was happening to her was according to the discipline of her nature, controlled, suppressed. 'If she would only splutter,' Isabelle wished, 'instead of looking like a glowing sphinx!'
"Margaret!" she exclaimed in the evening, after a long silence between them. "You are so young—so pretty these days!"
"You think so? Thanks!" Margaret replied, stretching her thin arms above her head, which was crushed against one of Mrs. Short's hard pillows. "I suppose it is the Indian summer, the last warm glow before the end!" She opened her trembling lips in one of her ironical smiles. "There always comes a time of ripeness to a woman before she goes over the hill into old age."
"Nonsense! You are younger than you were twelve years ago!"
"Yes, I am younger in a sense than I ever was. I am well and strong, and I am in equilibrium, as I never was before…. And it's more than that. We become more vital if we survive the tangle of youth. We see more—we feel more! When I hear girls talk about love, I always want to say: 'What do you know, what can you know about it! Love isn't born in a woman before she is thirty,—she hasn't the power. She can have children, but she can't love a man.'"
Margaret pressed her hands tensely together and murmured to herself, "For love is born with the soul,—and is the last thing that comes into the heart!"
Isabelle with caressing impulsiveness put her arms about the slight figure.
"I love you, Margaret; it seems as if you were the only person I really loved now! It has been heaven to be with you all these weeks. You calm me, you breathe peace to me…. And I want to help you, now."
Margaret smiled sadly and drew Isabelle's dark head to her and kissed it.
"Nobody can help, dear…. It will come right! It must come right, I am sure."