ng movement. They
went in silence.

Maggie longed for a word of approval; a short sentence such as "How
nice you're looking, Maggie," or "I like your dress, Maggie," or
"That's a new dress, dear--I like it," would be enough. After that
Maggie felt that she could face a multitude of wild and savage
Warlocks, that she could walk into the Warlock drawing-room with a fine
brave carriage, above all, that she would feel a sudden warm affection
for her aunt that would make all their future life together easy.

But Aunt Anne said nothing. She looked exactly as she had looked upon
her first appearance at St. Dreots, so thin and tall, with her pale
tapering face and her eyes staring before her as though they saw
nothing.

Maggie, as they turned up into Garrick Street, said:

"I hope you like my new dress, aunt."

Aunt Anne turned to her for a moment, smiled gently and then vaguely,
as though her mind were elsewhere, answered:

"I liked your old dress better, dear."

Maggie's face flamed; her temper flared into her eyes. For a moment she
had wild thoughts of breaking into open rebellion. She hated her dress,
she hated London, above all, she hated Aunt Anne. That lady's happy
unconsciousness that anything had occurred drove the girl into furious
irritation. Well, it was hopeless then, Mr. Magnus could say what he
pleased, her aunt did not care for her--she would not mind did she fall
dead in the street before her. The words in Maggie's mind were: "You
don't look at me. I'm not a human being to you at all. But I won't live
with you. I'll go my own way. You can't keep me if you never speak to
me nor think of me." But in some dark fashion that strange impassivity
held her. Aunt Anne had her power ...

They climbed the dim crooked staircase behind the antiquary's wall.
They rang the Warlock bell and were admitted. Maggie did not know what
it was that she had expected, but it was certainly not the pink, warm
room of Mrs. Warlock.

The heavy softly closing door hemmed them in, the silent carpet folded
about their steps; the canary twittered, the fire spurted and crackled.
But at once the girl's heart went out to old Mrs. Warlock; she looked
so charming in her white cap and blue bow, her eyes were raised so
gently to Maggie's face and her little hand was so soft and warm.

The meeting between Anne Cardinal and Mrs. Warlock was very gracious.
Aunt Anne gravely pressed the old lady's hand, looked at her with her
grave distant e