Margaret suppressed a sigh—she was almost thankful that Raby’s blind eyes could not see the difference in her. He was quite unconscious that her youthful bloom had faded, and that her fair face had a settled, matured look that seldom comes before middle age; and she was glad that this was so. Neither of them spoke now of the strange blight that had passed over her young life. Margaret had long ceased to weep over it; it was her cross, she said, and she had learned its weight by this time.
“Well, Margaret?” for she had paused for a moment.
“I did not dare to leave my place of concealment until she had passed. I saw Miss Campion join her. She is a pleasant, brisk-looking woman with gray hair, and rather a young face. I followed them out of the station, and heard them order the driver to bring them here.”
“Here! To this house, Margaret?”
“Yes—wait a moment—but of course I knew what Mrs. O’Brien would say—that there was no room; so I did not trouble to follow them very closely; in fact, I knew it would be useless; when I did arrive I went straight to Mrs. O’Brien’s parlor, and asked if she had managed to accommodate the two ladies.
“‘I did not know they were friends of yours, Miss Ferrers,’ she said, regretfully. ‘But what could I do? There is not a vacant bed in the house, and I knew the hotel would be just as full; so I sent them down to Mrs. Maddox, at the corner house, down yonder—it is only a stone’s-throw from here. And, as I told the ladies, they can join us at luncheon and dinner, and make use of the drawing-room. I knew Mrs. Maddox had her two best bedrooms and the front parlor empty.’ Of course I thanked Mrs. O’Brien, and said no doubt this would do excellently for our friends; and then I walked past the corner house and found they were carrying in the luggage, and Miss Campion was standing at the door talking to a colored servant.”
“You actually passed the house? Oh, Margaret, how imprudent. Supposing Crystal had seen you from the window?”
“Oh, my cloak and veil disguised me; besides, there is a long strip of garden between the house and the road. I could hardly distinguish Crystal, though I could see there was some one in the parlor. And now, what are we to do, Raby? It will never do to risk a meeting at table d’hôte; in a crowded room, Crystal might see us, and make her escape before I could manage to intercept her; and yet, how are we to intrude on Miss Campion? it will be dreadfully awkward for us all.”
“I must think over it,” he answered, quickly. “It is growing dark now, Margaret, is it not?”
“Yes, dear, do you feel chilly—shall we go in?”