Her letters to Miss Lawson were cheerful and chatty, but the governess put them aside with a strange sensation of pity. She felt that there was some great sorrow, a sorrow which Margery must bear alone, that none could alleviate. She was gratified at the success of her pupil, and from her sister, Mrs. Fothergill, she heard of the warm friendship that already existed between Lady Enid Walsh and her companion. The girl’s heartfelt gratitude pleased and touched Miss Lawson, and she was glad to know that her judgment of the maid’s character had been right; that Margery was all she had expected. Gratitude, indeed, was the warmest feeling in Margery’s breast just now; she could not thank her governess enough for assisting her at a time when she most needed assistance. To have stayed at Hurstley would have been worse than death, she told herself. As she crept away in the freshness of the morning, she took her farewell of all that had been dearest and best to her, and, with a courage born of despair, faced the unknown future unfalteringly. Reuben Morris had accepted with little surprise the news of her hasty departure; he knew that Miss Lawson loved the girl in her quiet way, and would watch over her, and her speed to be gone matched his own plans, for the vessel started three days earlier than he had expected, and there was no time to be lost. Margery traveled up to the great city, silent and sorrowful, her hand clasped in Reuben’s, with Miss Lawson by her side. Not till she reached the docks, whither she had pleaded to be allowed to accompany Reuben, did she learn that Robert Bright, too, sailed away from the old country in the same ship, and the news was the last drop in her already overflowing cup of grief. She spoke a few words to him, urging him to stay; but, when she learned that her love was all that could keep him, she was silent; it was impossible--it could never be. So the two men went together, and Margery stood beside Miss Lawson, the tears blinding her eyes as the huge vessel glided away. Then, in silence, they retraced their steps, and Margery was launched upon the world. Her secret was safe. Hurstley chattered of her as in Australia, with Reuben Morris and her lover; but Miss Lawson’s lips were closed; she kept her promise. CHAPTER XV. Margery was walking slowly to and fro in the square garden, buried in her thoughts, when a firm step coming toward her made her raise her head, and she saw Lord Court, looking almost handsome and undeniably soldierly in the sunlight. “I am sent after you, Miss Daw,” he said, raising his hat with a smile that lit up his plain face. “Enid is pining for you, and thinks you will be fatigued with so much walking.” Margery laughed a little silvery laugh that sounded strange in her own ears--it was long since she had been merry. “Lady Enid does not know my capabilities,” she answered. “I am a country girl, and walking comes naturally to me; but I am quite ready to go to her.”