"Bobby, I did not understand--I did not know," she said gently. "You won't have to stay away--any more." "Won't have to--stay--away!" The man was on his feet, incredulous wonder in his eyes. "No. We--we will do it together--this work." "But you don't mean--you can't mean----" McGinnis paused, his breath suspended. "But I do," she answered, the quick red flying to her cheeks. Then, half laughing, half crying, she faltered: "And--and I shouldn't think you'd make--_me_ ask--_you_!" "Margaret!" choked the man, as he fell on his knees and caught the girl's two hands to his lips. [Illustration: "MARGARET CROSSED THE ROOM AND TOUCHED THE MAN'S SHOULDER."] CHAPTER XXXIII Ned Spencer returned alone to Hilcrest about the middle of April. In spite of their able corps of managers, the Spencers did not often leave the mills for so long a time without the occasional presence of one or the other of the firm, though Ned frequently declared that the mills were like a clock that winds itself, so admirably adjusted was the intricate machinery of their management. It was not without some little embarrassment and effort that Ned sought out the Mill House, immediately upon his return, and called on Margaret. "I left Della and Frank to come more slowly," he said, after the greetings were over. "Frank, poor chap, isn't half strong yet, but he was impatient that some one should be here. For that matter, I found things in such fine shape that I told them I was going away again. We made more money when I wasn't 'round than when I was!" Margaret smiled, but very faintly. She understood only too well that behind all this lay the reasons why her urgent requests and pleas regarding some of the children, had been so ignored in the office of Spencer & Spencer during the last few months. She almost said as much to Ned, but she changed her mind and questioned him about Frank's health and their trip, instead. The call was not an unqualified success--at least it was not a success so far as Margaret was concerned. The young man was plainly displeased with the cane-seated chair in which he sat, and with his hostess's simple toilet. The reproachful look had gone from his eyes, it was true, but in its place was one of annoyed disapproval that was scarcely less unpleasant to encounter. There were long pauses in the conversation, which neither participant seemed able to fill. Once Margaret tried to tell her visitor of her work, but he was so clearly unsympathetic that she cut it short and introduced another subject. Of McGinnis she did not speak; time enough for that when Frank Spencer should return and the engagement would have to be known. She did tell him, however, of her plans to go to New York later in search of the twins. "I shall take Patty with me," she explained, "and we shall make it a sort of vacation. We both need the change and the--well, it won't be exactly a rest, perhaps."