The girl turned a look of the deepest pity on that old face, distorted with anger, and closing the door behind her went to her own room.
[CHAPTER VII.]
WHICH SHALL IT BE? BLUE OR WHITE?
ONE thought above all others was in Margaretta's mind. She would leave Northbrook Hall at once and for ever. But where should she go?
She bethought herself of that old promise, and without waiting even to change her simple wrapper for a walking dress, she gathered up her precious letters, threw a soft woollen shawl round her, put on her hat, and went rapidly towards the little dwelling tenanted by Nelly Corry and her mother. As she passed through the ill-kept conservatory she plucked a rose from a bush that had been a favourite of her mother's, and which she had tended with loving hands.
She had tasted nothing since early on the preceding evening, and when she reached the cottage she was faint with want of food and excitement, for it was getting towards noon.
Nelly was in the midst of her dressmaking, but at the sight of Margaretta, she deposited her work on the seat she was occupying, drew forward an old wicker chair, the most comfortable one in the place, and begged her visitor to sit down. Then she removed her hat with gentle hands, and, quite alarmed at Margaretta's woe-begone appearance, asked what was the matter and what she could do for her.
The girl could not answer, but to Nelly's dismay she burst into a passion of hysterical weeping.
Nelly strove to soothe her with loving words, and wished that her mother would come, for Mrs. Corry being a little better than usual had gone to do the shopping of the tiny household.
