There needed no words to explain the cause of Margery's trouble. The girl knew that her mother had read her heart's story, and could divine the severity of the wound given not only to her tenderest affections, but to her sense of self-respect.
She looked pitifully in Mrs. Austin's face, and in a tone that went to her mother's heart said—
"Have I been to blame? You know all that passed before Clare came home. I am afraid when I think of that time."
"You need not fear, my darling. Captain Anstruther may have changed, but when he looks back and recalls that time, he can only feel that my Margery's words and acts were true, pure, and maidenly. Believe me, I would not say this to soothe your wounded feelings, or even to save your self-respect, were it not the truth. As to Anstruther and Clare—"
But here Margery's kiss closed her mother's lips.
"We will say nothing about them, dear. Such things are not premeditated, and our affections are not under our own control. It would have been far worse if poor Frank had learned to love Clare, and she had given him nothing but pretty speeches in return. You will smooth their path for them, mother darling, will you not?"
"How can I ever forgive, when I think of you, my very own child, suffering so cruelly?"
"Go farther back, mother, and think how Dorothy's Christmas gift came to bring me new life, and of all the blessed years we spent together before there was any question of rivalry in love. There is none now."
"Oh, Margery! There is no girl like you for unselfishness. Mrs. Anstruther is dreadfully pained; the knows your value, my darling, if Frank does not."
"I think he does, in a way, too. And in future I mean him to know it better still, by being the best of sisters to him as well as Clare. He has none of his own. But do not let Mrs. Anstruther know. I could not bear for any one but you, mother—"