“‘A mere bare blind stone in the blaze of day,
A man, upon the outside of the earth,
As dark as ten feet under, in the grave,—
Why that seemed hard.’
And yet, she really said it; her ideal. Ah, well! A woman’s pity sometimes makes her mad. What do you say, Maggie?”
“That you are, and that you ever have been Crystal’s ideal.” And after that they walked back in silence.
“You and I will go again to-morrow morning,” Raby said to her as they parted for the night; and Margaret assented.
Raby had a wakeful night, and slept a little heavily toward morning.
Margaret had already finished her breakfast when he entered the long dining-room, and one of the black waiters guided him to his place. Raby wondered that she did not join him as usual to read his letters to him, and make plans for their visit; but a few minutes later she joined him in walking dress, and sat down beside him.
“Have you finished your breakfast, Raby?” And, as he answered in the affirmative, she continued, with a little thrill of excitement in her sweet voice—“Miss Campion has gone down to the springs—I saw her pass alone. Crystal is writing letters in the parlor—I saw her. Shall we come, my dear brother?”