came to see what had happened. You've not kept your word,
Maggie, you know. We were to have been great friends, and you've never
been near me."

At the use of her Christian name Maggie blushed with pleasure.

"I couldn't come," she said. "I didn't want to until--until--until some
things had settled themselves."

"Well--and they have?" asked Katherine.

"Yes--they have," said Maggie.

"What's been the matter?" asked Katherine.

"I was worried about something, and then I was ill," said Maggie.

"And you're not worried now?" said Katherine.

"I'm not going to give in to it, anyway," said Maggie. "As soon as I'm
well, I'm off. I'll find some work somewhere."

"I've got a plan," said Katherine. "It came into my head the moment I
saw you sitting there. Will you come and stay with us for a little?"

That sense that Maggie had had when she saw Katherine of fate having a
hand in all of this deepened now and coloured her thoughts, so that she
could feel no surprise but only a curious instinct that she had been
through all this scene before.

"Stay with you!" she cried. "Oh, I should love to!"

"That's good," said Katherine. "Your aunts won't mind, will they?"

"They can't keep me," said Maggie. "I'm free. But they won't want to.
Our time together is over--"

"I'll come and fetch you to-morrow," said Katherine. "You shall stay
with us until you're quite well, and then we'll find some work for you."

"Why are you good to me like this?" Maggie asked.

"I'm not good to you," Katherine answered, laughing. "It's simply
selfish. It will be lovely for me having you with me."

"Oh, you don't know," said Maggie, throwing up her head.

"No, I don't think I'll come. I'm frightened. I'm not what you think.
I'm untidy and careless and can't talk to strangers. Perhaps I'll lose
you altogether as a friend if I come."

"You'll never do that," said Katherine, suddenly bending forward and
kissing her. "I don't change about people. It's because I haven't any
imagination, Phil says."

"I shall make mistakes," Maggie said. "I've never been anywhere. But I
don't care. I can look after myself."

The thought of her three hundred pounds (which were no longer three
hundred) encouraged her. She kissed Katherine.

"I don't change either," she said.

She had a strange conversation with Aunt Anne that night, strange as
every talk had always been because of things left unsaid. They faced
one another across the fireplace like enemies