The next day, "It would be so _easy_ to do it now," observed the handsome aunt; "it almost seems like a tempting of Providence to neglect such an opportunity." (Mrs. Rutherford always lived on intimate terms with Providence.) "You could keep up your interest in her, send her down books, and even a governess for six months or so, if you wished to be very punctilious; all the people here want Garda to stay--they cannot bear to give her up; you would be doing them a kindness by yielding. They are really fond of her, and she is fond of them; of course you can't pretend that she cares for _you_ in that way?" "Oh no, I don't pretend," replied Margaret. "You carry her off without it!" The next advance was on another line. "What are you going to do when she is through school, Margaret?" demanded the inquirer, with interested amiability. "She'll have to see something, go somewhere--you can't shut her up; and who is going to chaperon her? I am an invalid, you know, and you yourself are much too young. You must remember, my dear, that you are a young and pretty woman." (Aunt Katrina had evidently been driven to her best shot.) But though this, or a similar remark, would have been certain to bring down Peter, and place him just where his wife wished him to be, it failed to bring down Peter's niece. Mrs. Rutherford saw this. And concluded as follows: "However, it doesn't make much difference; with the kind of beauty Garda Thorne has, no one would look at _you_, you might be any age; she has the sort of face that simply extinguishes every one else." "Having no radiance of my own to look after, I can see her all the better, then," replied Margaret. "She'll be the lighted Bank, and I the policeman with the dark lantern." Mrs. Rutherford did not like this answer, she thought it flippant. It was true, however, that Margaret was very seldom flippant. "It does seem to me so _weak_ to keep an extorted promise," she began another day. "I suppose you won't deny that it was extorted?" "It was very much wished for." "And you gave it unwillingly." "Not unwillingly, Aunt Katrina." "Reluctantly, then." "Yes, I was reluctant." "You were reluctant," repeated Mrs. Rutherford, with triumph. "Of course I knew you must be. But whatever possessed you to do it, Margaret--induced you to consent, extortion or no extortion--that passes me!" Margaret gave no explanation. So the aunt attempted one. "It _almost_ seems as though you were influenced by something _I_ am ignorant of," she went on, making a little gesture of withdrawal with her hand, as if she found herself on the threshold of mysterious regions of double motive into which she should prefer not to penetrate.