"Nothing to say, then?" queried Margaret. He shook his head again. "You know," she added, "I 'm not a bit ashamed--not of anything."
"Of course you 're not," he agreed readily. "You did what you thought was right."
"Miss Harding," replied Mr. Samson; "so far as I can manage it, I don't think about the matter at all."
Margaret had a queer impulse to reply to this by bursting into tears or laughter, whichever should offer itself, but at that moment Mrs. Jakes came out, and restrained a too obvious surprise at the sight of the pair of them in conversation. Circumstances were forever lying in ambush against Mrs. Jakes and deepening the mystery of life by their unexpected poppings up.
She addressed Mr. Samson and pointedly ignored Margaret.
"Mr. Ford could see you now, if you cared to go up," she announced.
"Certainly, certainly," said Mr. Samson, with alacrity.
Margaret spoke, smiling openly at Mrs. Jakes' irreconcilable side-face.
"Oh, would you mind if I went first?" she asked. "I rather want to see him."
"By all means," agreed Mr. Samson, with the same alacrity. "I 'm not perishin' to inspect him, you know. Tell him I 'll look him up afterwards."
Mrs. Jakes turned a fine bright red, and swallowed two or three times. She had matured a plan for declaring that Ford must not be disturbed again after Mr. Samson's visit, and she was fairly sure that Margaret had suspected it. She watched the girl's departure with angry and baffled eyes.
"She 's doing it on purpose," was her thought. "She swings them like that so as to make me hear the frow-frow."
Ford was propped against pillows in his bed, with most of the books in the house piled alongside of him on chairs and a bedside table. He was expecting Mr. Samson and sang out a hearty, "Come in; don't stand drumming there," at Margaret's rap on the door.
"It's me," announced Margaret, pushing it open; "not Mr. Samson. He 'll look you up afterwards. Do you mind?"
He flushed warmly, staring at her unexpected appearance.
"Of course I don't mind," he said. "It 's awfully good of you. If you 'd shove these books off on the floor, I could offer you a chair."
Margaret did as he suggested, but rose again at once and set the door wide open.
"The proprieties," she remarked, as she returned to her seat. "Also Mrs. Jakes. That keyhole might tempt her beyond her strength."