'And now, Margaret,' said Mrs. Rushmore after a silence that had lasted
a full minute, 'I insist on knowing what all this means.' Margaret inwardly admitted that Mrs. Rushmore had some right to insist,
but she was a little doubtful herself about the meaning of what had
happened. If it meant anything, it meant that she had been flirting
rather rashly and had got into a scrape. She wondered what the two men
were saying now that they were alone together, and she turned her head
to look over the back of the phaeton, but a turn of the road already
hid the motor car from view.
Meanwhile Mrs. Rushmore's face showed that she still insisted, and
Margaret had to say something. As she was a truthful person it was not
easy to decide what to say, and while she was hesitating Mrs. Rushmore
expressed herself again.
'Margaret,' said she, 'I'm surprised at you. It makes no difference
what you say. I'm surprised.' The words were spoken with a slow and melancholy intonation that might
have indicated anything but astonishment.
'Yes,' Margaret remarked rather desperately, 'I don't wonder. I suppose
I've been flirting outrageously with them both. But I really could not
foresee that one would run over the other and that you would appear
just at that moment, could I? I'm helpless. I've nothing to say. You
must have flirted when you were young. Try to remember what it was
like, and make allowance for human weakness!' She laughed nervously and glanced nervously at her companion, but Mrs.
Rushmore's face was like iron.
'Mr. Rushmore,' said the latter, alluding to her departed husband,
'would not have understood such conduct.' Margaret thought this was very probable, judging from the likenesses of
the late Ransom Rushmore which she had seen. There was one in
particular, an engraving of him when he had been president of some big
company, which had always filled her with a vague uneasiness. In her
thoughts she called him the 'commercial missionary,' and was glad for
his sake and her own that he was safe in heaven, with no present
prospect of getting out.
'I'm sorry,' she said, without much contrition. 'I mean,' she went on,
correcting herself, and with more feeling, 'I'm sorry I've done
anything that you don't like, for you've been ever so good to me.' 'So have other people,' answered the elder woman with an air of mystery
and reproof.
'Oh yes! I know! Everybody has been very kind--especially Madame
Bonanni.' 'Should you be surprised to hear that the individual who bought out Mr.
Moon and made you independent, did it from purely personal motives?' Margaret turned to her quickly in great surprise.