dowed with such copious wells there, suitable for
every occasion, as Betty had been endowed with. She nodded her head
slowly, and looked at the floor; she had finished the corn-bread, and
now sat holding the remaining crumbs carefully in the palm of her hand,
while, in a secondary current of thought (the first was occupied with
Garda and her story), she wished that Betty had brought a plate. "Do
what I can," she said to herself, "some of them _will_ get on the
carpet."

Garda, escaping from the Doctor, had gone to Margaret's room; she had
not much hope of finding her; her not having been present to greet them
seemed to indicate that she was with Mrs. Rutherford, and "with Mrs.
Rutherford" was a hopeless bar for Garda. But Margaret was there.

Garda ran up to her and kissed her. "The only thing I cared about,
Margaret, was you--whether _you_ were anxious."

"How could I help being anxious?" Margaret answered. "It was the
greatest relief when we heard that you had reached Gracias." She was
seated, and did not rise; but she took the girl's hand and looked at
her.

Garda sat down on a footstool, and rested her elbows on Margaret's knee.
"You are so pale," she said.

"I am afraid we are all rather pale, we haven't been to bed; we were
very anxious about you, and then Aunt Katrina has had one of her bad
nights."

But Garda never had much to say about Aunt Katrina. She looked at
Margaret with an unusually serious expression in her dark eyes; "I have
something to tell you, Margaret. You know how wrong you have thought me
in liking Lucian as I did; what do you say, then, to my liking somebody
who is very different--Mr. Winthrop? What do you say to my marrying him?
Not now; when I am two or three years older. He has always been so kind
to me, and I like people who are kind. Of course you are ever so much
surprised; but perhaps not more so than I am myself. I hope you won't
dislike it; one of the pleasantest things about it to me is that it will
keep me near you."

Margaret did not say whether she was surprised or not. But she took the
girl in her arms, and held her close.

"How much you care about it!--I believe you care more than I do," said
Garda, putting her head down on Margaret's shoulder contentedly.

"No," answered Margaret, "that is impossible, isn't it? It is only that
those who are older always realize such things more."

"Well, I don't want to realize anything more just at present," said
Garda. She left he