It was very late when McGinnis came out of the den and closed the door behind him--so late that he could stop for only a few words with the girl who hurried across the room to meet him. His face was gray-white, and his whole appearance showed the strain he had been under for the last two hours. "Mr. Spencer was very kind," he said huskily in response to the question in Margaret's eyes. "At first, of course, he--but never mind that part.... He has been very kind; but I--I can't tell you now--all that he said to me. Perhaps--some other time." McGinnis was plainly very much moved. His words came brokenly and with long pauses. For some time after her lover had gone Margaret waited for Frank Spencer to come out and speak to her. But the door of the den remained fast shut, and she finally went up-stairs without seeing him. The next few days at Hilcrest were hard for all concerned. Before Margaret had come down stairs on the morning following McGinnis's call, Frank Spencer had told his sister of the engagement; and after the first shock of the news was over, he had said constrainedly, and with averted eyes: "There is just one thing for us to do, Della--or rather, for us not to do. We must not drive Margaret away from us. She has full right to marry the man she loves, of course, and if--if we are too censorious, it will result only in our losing her altogether. It isn't what we want to do, but what we must do. We must accept him--or lose her. I--I'm afraid I forgot myself at first, last night," went on Frank, hurriedly, "and said some pretty harsh things. I didn't realize _what_ I was saying until I saw the look on his face. McGinnis is a straightforward, manly young fellow--we must not forget that, Della." "But think of his po-position," moaned Mrs. Merideth. Frank winced. "I know," he said. "But we must do our best to remedy that. I shall advance him and increase his pay at once, of course, and eventually he will become one of the firm, if Margaret--marries him." Mrs. Merideth burst into tears. "How can you take it so calmly, Frank," she sobbed. "You don't seem to care at all!" Frank Spencer's lips parted, then closed again. Perhaps it was just as well, after all, that she should not know just how much he did--care. "It may not be myself I'm thinking of," he said at last, quietly. "I want Margaret--happy." And he turned away. Margaret was not happy, however, as the days passed. In spite of everybody's effort to act as if everything was as usual, nobody succeeded in doing it; and at last Margaret announced her determination to go back to the Mill House. She agreed, however, to call it a "visit," for Mrs. Merideth had cried tragically: "But, Margaret, dear, if we are going to lose you altogether by and by, surely you will give us all your time now that you can!" CHAPTER XXXVI