Before the words were spoken her arms were around his neck, her lips were close to his, her heart was beating against his own. “Always,” she was repeating with him--“always--always!” CHAPTER VII--Three Announcements When they reached the house, a little late for dinner, they found a telegram for Halloran on the mail-rack. Margaret started at the sight of it. “What is it, John? What does it mean?” He read it, then looked at it gloomily. “I suppose I ought to be glad,” he said. “Is it good news? I never can wait to see what's in a telegram.” He handed it to her. “I don't know whether you can make anything out of it. It is good news--it's what I've been hoping for for months. And now I'm sorry.” “_Price has risen_” she read. “_Understand that combine is broken. Crosman_. What does that mean? What price? And who is Crosman?” “I'll tell you all about it after dinner. I'm going to run up now and throw my things together. I shall have to take the evening train.” “Oh--John!” He could not reply; but with a quick look around the halls he took both her hands. “Don't go, John. Why, it's------” “I know, dear. It hurts--but I must.” And then, afraid of that unmanageable little imp within him that had a way of taking the reins now and then, he only managed to add, “I'll pack now so we can talk after dinner,” and bolted upstairs. After a hasty dinner he found her waiting with her coat and hat on. “I'm going to the station with you,” she said. “Mother thinks it will be all right, with Baker to drive. Now come out and tell me about it.” After saying which, she herself began, as soon as they were pacing the veranda arm in arm, on an entirely different subject. “I've talked with mother, John. I--I suppose I ought to have waited--it was really your place, wasn't it? But I'm so happy I couldn't wait. And dear old mother was so surprised--I was excited, I guess, and I laughed a little, and------” “I wanted to see her anyway, before I go.” “You can't now, John. She's so tired and stirred up she has gone right to bed. But--I don't think you'll find her very hard to talk with when you do see her.” “Does she think she can give you up?” They were standing at the end of the veranda, and Margaret was leaning back with both hands on the railing. She shook her head and looked mischievously at him. “I don't know but I shall have to be a little jealous of mother. I couldn't let many people talk about you like she does.”