walking back to London; but William had overtaken her in the avenue, he
had expostulated with her, he had refused to allow her to pass. She had
striven to tear herself from him, and, failing, had burst into tears.
However, he had been kind, and at last she had allowed him to lead her
back, and all the time he had filled her ears with assurances that he
would make it all right with his mother. But Mrs. Latch had closed her
kitchen against her, and she had had to go to her room. Even if they paid
her fare back to London, how was she to face her mother? What would father
say? He would drive her from the house. But she had done nothing wrong.
Why did cook insult her?

As she pulled on her stockings she stopped and wondered if she should
awake Margaret Gale. Margaret's bed stood in the shadow of the obliquely
falling wall; and she lay heavily, one arm thrown forward, her short,
square face raised to the light. She slept so deeply that for a moment
Esther felt afraid. Suddenly the eyes opened, and Margaret looked at her
vaguely, as if out of eternity. Raising her hands to her eyes she said--

"What time is it?"

"It has just gone six."

"Then there's plenty of time; we needn't be down before seven. You get on
with your dressing; there's no use in my getting up till you are
done--we'd be tumbling over each other. This is no room to put two girls
to sleep in--one glass not much bigger than your hand. You'll have to get
your box under your bed.... In my last place I had a beautiful room with a
Brussels carpet, and a marble washstand. I wouldn't stay here three days
if it weren't----" The girl laughed and turned lazily over.