Margaret did what she could. She spent her time and her money without stint, and went from house to house untiringly. She summoned young McGinnis to her aid, and arranged for a monster Christmas tree to be placed in the largest hall in town; and she herself ordered the books, toys, candies, and games for it, besides the candles and tinsel stars to make it a vision of delight to the weary little eyes all unaccustomed to such glory. And yet, to Margaret it seemed that nothing that she did counted in the least against the much there was to be done. It was as if a child with a teaspoon and a bowl of sand were set to filling up a big chasm: her spoonful of sand had not even struck bottom in that pit of horror! CHAPTER XXX The house-party at Hilcrest was not an entire success that Christmas. Even the guests felt a subtle something in the air that was not conducive to ease; while Mrs. Merideth and her brothers were plainly fighting a losing contest against a restlessness that sent a haunting fear to their eyes. Margaret, though scrupulously careful to show every attention to the guests that courtesy demanded, was strangely quiet, and not at all like the merry, high-spirited girl that most of them knew. Brandon, who was again at the house, sought her out one day, and said low in her ear: "If it were June and not December, and if we were out in the auto instead of here by the fire, I'm wondering; would I need to--watch out for those brakes?" The girl winced. "No, no," she cried; "never! I think I should simply crawl for fear that under the wheels somewhere would be a child, a dog, a chicken, or even a helpless worm--something that moved and that I might hurt. There is already so much--suffering!" Brandon laughed uneasily and drew back, a puzzled frown on his face. He had not meant that she should take his jest so seriously. It was on the day after New Year's, when all the guests had gone, that Margaret once more said to her guardian that she wished to speak to him, and on business. Frank Spencer told himself that he was used to this sort of thing now, and that he was resigned to the inevitable; but his eyes were troubled, and his lips were close-shut as he motioned the girl to precede him into the den. "I thought I ought to tell you," she began, plunging into her subject with an abruptness that betrayed her nervousness, "I thought I ought to tell you at once that I--I cannot go with you when you all go away next week." "You cannot go with us!" "No. I must stay here." "Here! Why, Margaret, child, that is impossible!--here in this great house with only the servants?" "No, no, you don't understand; not here at Hilcrest. I shall be down in the town--with Patty." "Margaret!" The man was too dismayed to say more.