t pretend to be anxious," he said--"I mean about
Lanse; I am only anxious about you."

"But if I don't go now, I can't go until to-morrow noon; before that
time I shouldn't meet a boat that stops at our landing. That would make
a delay of twenty-four hours." She looked at him as she said this, with
a sort of unconscious appeal.

"I doubt whether anything very exciting could happen over there in twice
twenty-four; it isn't an exciting place."

"Of course you think me obstinate. But I cannot help feeling that I
ought to go."

"_Perfectly_ natural," said Betty. "I should feel just the same in your
place--I know I should--not hearing for _so_ long."

"It's that--the silence," said Margaret. "I have been disturbed about it
for several days."

"Go, by all means, if you feel in that way," said Winthrop. "I haven't
the least desire to prevent it--as you seem to think; I only say that I
shall go too."

"Yes; and that is what I don't want." She turned away and stepped out on
the balcony to scan the sky.

A dark haze edged the eastern horizon. It was far away at present, lying
low down on the sea, but it would come, it was already coming, westward;
a clear, empty-looking space of cold pearl-hued light preceded it. Here
on the lagoon the atmosphere was breathlessly still, not a sound of any
kind stirred the warm silence. "Perhaps it will be only a rain," said
Margaret, rather helplessly. She looked very uncomfortable.

"Yes, I reckon that's all it _will_ be," said Betty, who had followed
her to the balcony door. "And then, too, if it _should_ be anything
more, Mr. Winthrop will be with you, of course; that is, in case you
decide to go; and if you don't go, why then he won't, you know; so
either way, it's all for the best."

Margaret turned and came back into the drawing-room. Winthrop was
standing by the table where she had left him; his eyes met hers, she saw
that he would not yield. "I don't dare give it up, I don't dare wait,"
she broke out with sudden agitation. "Something has happened, nothing
less could have kept both of the men from writing, when I gave them my
express orders. I don't understand why you don't agree with me."

"You see probabilities, and Lanse isn't a devotee of probabilities, as a
general thing. Didn't the last letter say that he had begun to walk a
little?--with the aid of two canes? By this time it is one cane, and he
is camping out. And he has carried off the whole force of the house to
cook