ith irritation. She felt as if some
fatal fascination confined her in Fairbridge and especially did she
feel that she must be present at the annual meeting. Margaret never
for one minute formulated to herself why she had this fierce desire.
She knew in a horrible way at the back of her brain, but she kept the
knowledge covered as with a veil even from herself.

She had a beautiful new gown made for the occasion. Since she had
lost so much colour, she was doubtful of the wisdom of wearing her
favourite white and gold, or black. She had a crepe of a peculiar
shade of blue which suited her and she herself worked assiduously
embroidering it in a darker shade which brought out the colour of her
eyes. She looked quite herself when the evening came and Wilbur's
face brightened as he looked at her in her trailing blue with a
little diamond crescent fastening a tiny blue feather in her golden
fluff of hair.

"You certainly do look better," he said happily.

"I am well, you old goose," said Margaret, fastening her long blue
gloves. "You have simply been fussing over nothing as I told you."

"Well, I hope I have. You do look stunning to-night," said Wilbur,
gazing at her with a pride so intense that it was almost piteous in
its self-abnegation.

"Is that your stunt there on the table?" he inquired, pointing to a
long envelope.

Margaret laughed carefully, dimpling her cheeks. "Yes," she said, and
Wilbur took the envelope and put it into his pocket. "I will carry it
for you," he said. "By the way, what is your stunt, honey? Did you
write something?"

"Wait, until you hear," replied Margaret, and she laughed carefully
again. She gathered up the train of her blue gown and turned upon
him, her blue eyes glowing with a strange fire, feverish roses on her
cheeks. "You are not to be surprised at anything to-night," she said
and laughed again.

She still had a laughing expression when they were seated in Mrs.
Sturtevant's flower-scented drawing-room, a handsome room, thanks to
the decorator, who was young and enthusiastic. Margaret had duly
considered the colour scheme in her choice of a gown. The furniture
was upholstered with a wisteria pattern, except a few chairs which
were cane-seated, with silvered wood. Margaret had gone directly to
one of these chairs. She was not sure of her gown being exactly the
right shade of blue to harmonise with the wisteria at close quarters.
The chair was tall and slender. Margaret's feet did n