I didn't tell you, dear,« said Maggie, making a great effort to command
herself, »because you've been so busy. But some time ago I wrote to our old
governess, Miss Firniss, to ask her to let me know if she met with any situation
that I could fill, and the other day I had a letter from her telling me that I
could take three orphan pupils of hers to the coast during the holidays, and
then make trial of a situation with her as teacher. I wrote yesterday to accept
the offer.«
    Lucy felt so hurt that for some moments she was unable to speak.
    »Maggie,« she said at last, »how could you be so unkind to me - not to tell
me - to take such a step -and now!« She hesitated a little, and then added -
»And Philip? I thought everything was going to be so happy. O Maggie - what is
the reason? Give it up; let me write. There is nothing now to keep you and
Philip apart.«
    »Yes,« said Maggie, faintly. »There is Tom's feeling. He said I must give
him up if I married Philip. And I know he would not change - at least not for a
long while - unless something happened to soften him.«
    »But I will talk to him: he's coming back this week. And this good news
about the Mill will soften him. And I'll talk to him about Philip. Tom's always
very compliant to me: I don't think he's so obstinate.«
    »But I must go,« said Maggie, in a distressed voice. »I must leave some time
to pass. Don't press me to stay, dear Lucy.«
    Lucy was silent for two or three minutes, looking away and ruminating. At
length she knelt down by her cousin, and, looking up in her face with anxious
seriousness, said -
    »Maggie, is it that you don't love Philip well enough to marry him? - tell
me - trust me.«
    Maggie held Lucy's hands tightly in silence a little while. Her own hands
were quite cold. But when she spoke, her voice was quite clear and distinct.
    »Yes, Lucy, I would choose to marry him. I think it would be the best and
highest lot for me - to make his life happy. He loved me first. No one else
could be quite what he is to me.
