Margaret was too much occupied to notice that her sister's face was persistently turned away from her. She was kneeling facing the door, while with hands trembling a little from cold and partly from agitation she was putting into the bottom of the boxes their heaviest possessions. She would not take time to think of the future, of where they should go, or what they were to do. To get away--that was her thought, to be far from this hateful position for Grace, to shield her from all chance of hearing anything so hard again.... Noiselessly she went on, and mechanically, trying how the little old work-box took up least room, placing it sideways and lengthways with that carefulness regarding detail which is often the outcome of great excitement, when she was startled by a knock at the door. The sisters involuntarily drew together--Grace having dashed the tears away from her face. It was Jean, a tray in her hands and some hot tea for them. She took the whole thing in at a glance, saw the look of depression in Grace's face, and Margaret's expression of resolution. "My bairns," said the good woman, "if without offence to you I may call you so--I heard you moving; work is ill on an empty stomach, and the morning cold. Take up your tea, it will do ye good. And now," she went on as the girls took her advice, "what is it all about?" "Mr. Sandford has cruelly insulted us," said Margaret, reddening, "and we are going away." "And where will ye go?" "I--we do not know--but we _must_ go away from here," both the young voices chimed in. "Well, it's no my place to preach--an insult's ill to put up with--but Mrs. Dorriman has one of her headaches, and I've to ask you to go and see her at a reasonable hour, ye ken. I trust she's sleeping now. She's been saer put about. She's going away too." "Going away--Mrs. Dorriman is going away! then," said Margaret, "she has taken our part." The sisters looked at each other. "And did you ever know Mrs. Dorriman take any part but the part of the weakest?" asked Jean. "See how she stood by me--not but that your case and my case are two different ones--yes, bairns, they are very different. Mr. Sandford may have a rough tongue, I'm no denying it--whiles I myself am afraid of him--but you're no exactly kin till him, and he offered you a home, and has been good to you in many ways. It's no my business to preach," insisted Jean, "but I think it's an ill return to him to set all the tongues wagging about him. Go! of course you can go, but you can leave his house decently, and not in a mad-like way, particularly as you do not seem to be expected anywhere else." "He said very terrible things last night," said Margaret, "and we must go."