"No, thank you; I won't," she replied, rising. "I thank you all"—with downcast eyes and a little tremor in her voice—"I thank you that you are not too angry with me for what I could not help. I could not have borne—" There words failed her.
She glanced at Mr. Granger as she went out, and caught one of those heartfelt smiles which lighted his face when he was thoroughly friendly and pleased.
There was little rest for her that night. Hour after hour she heard Mr. Southard's step pacing to and fro in his chamber beneath, not ceasing till near morning. But after she went to bed, Aurelia came softly in, and, bending, put her arms around Margaret, and kissed her.
"I am sorry if I made you feel bad by going away so," she said in a voice stifled by long weeping. "But you know I was so taken by surprise. Of course we are all the same friends as ever. Good-night, dear! Go to sleep, and don't worry about anything. Mr. Granger and aunt and uncle told me to say good-night to you for them."
"How good everybody is—God and everybody!" thought Margaret.
In the morning all appeared as usual, except that there was no Mr. Southard at the table. Luncheon-time came, and Mrs. James reported the minister to have locked his door and declined refreshment. When the dinner-bell rang, still Mr. Southard had not come down.
"If he doesn't come to dinner," Miss Hamilton thought, thoroughly vexed, "I will send him a note which will give him an appetite. This is sheer nonsense."
But as they entered the dining-room they heard his step on the stairs, and he followed them in.
Hearing him greet the others quite in his usual manner, Margaret glanced at him, and found him waiting to bow to her. He looked as if he had had a long illness.
"What! you desert your seat too?" he said, seeing her go toward the other end of the table.