She reflected. "I want you to go and bring him here," she said presently. "No matter what he says, bring him." "When?" "Right away." "If I have to use force." And Grant hastened away. Hardly had he gone when Williams appeared, carrying a huge basket of orchids. "They just came, ma'am. I thought you'd like to see them." "From Mr. Arkwright?" "No, ma'am; Mr. Craig." "Craig?" ejaculated Margaret. "Yes, Miss Rita." "Craig," repeated Margaret, but in a very different tone--a tone of immense satisfaction and relief. She waved her hand with a smile of amused disdain. "Take them into the house, but not to my room. Put them in Miss Lucia's sitting-room." Williams had just gone when into the walk rushed Grant and Craig. Their faces were so flurried, so full of tragic anxiety that Margaret, stopping short, laughed out loud. "You two look as if you had come to view the corpse." "I passed Craig on his way here," explained Grant, "and took him into my machine." "I was not on my way here," replied Josh loftily. "I was merely taking a walk. He asked me to get in and brought me here in spite of my protests." "You were on the road that leads here," insisted Arkwright with much heat. "I repeat I was simply taking a walk," insisted Craig. He had not once looked at Margaret. "No matter," said Margaret in her calm, distant way. "You may take him away, Grant. And"--here she suddenly looked at Craig, a cold, haughty glance that seemed to tear open an abysmal gulf between them--"I do not wish to see you again. I am done with you. I have been on the verge of telling you so many times of late." "Is THAT what you sent Grant after me to tell me?" "No," answered she. "I sent him on an impulse to save the engagement. But while he was gone it suddenly came over me that you were right--entirely right. I accept your decision. You're afraid to marry me because of your political future. I'm afraid to marry you because of my stomach. You--nauseate me. I've been under some kind of hideous spell. I'm free of it now. I see you as you are. I am ashamed of myself." "I thought so! I knew it would come!" exclaimed Arkwright triumphantly. Craig, who had been standing like a stock, suddenly sprang into action. He seized Arkwright by the throat and bore him to the ground. "I've got to kill something," he yelled. "Why not you?" This unexpected and vulgar happening completely upset Margaret's pride and demolished her dignified pose. She gazed in horror at the two men struggling, brute-like, upon the grass. Her refined education had made no provision for such an emergency. She rushed forward, seized Craig by the shoulders. "Get up!" she cried contemptuously, and she dragged him to his feet. She shook him fiercely. "Now get out of here; and don't you dare come back!"