will not matter to you as much as it will to me. It
does not take away your bread-and-butter and your bed to sleep in, does
it?"

By that time Eleanor had reached the flight of steps and she began to
mount them. But Margaret had come to a pause at their foot, her progress
arrested by Eleanor's last words.

For the first time she had grasped what the full result of confession
would be to Eleanor, and her dismay deprived her for the moment of all
power of speech.

"Wait!" she cried then in a stifled voice. "Oh Eleanor, wait!"

"What for?" Eleanor returned impatiently. But glancing downwards and
seeing that Margaret had sunk on to the lowest step and had covered her
face with her hands, the hard, contemptuous expression her face had worn
relaxed somewhat.

"Don't bother about me, Margaret," she said, "I really don't care two
straws about going to The Cedars. From what you have told me the Danvers
do not appear to be a very attractive family, and I painted my own plight
blacker than I need have done. I have got somewhere to go. The empty
school at Hampstead is open to me for the rest of the summer holidays.
Miss Marvel gave me leave to spend them there if I had nowhere to go, so
I shall be all right. So, for goodness sake," she added, unable to keep
the impatience she felt at the weakness Margaret was displaying out of
her voice, "don't cry about me."

"I'm not crying," Margaret said in a muffled tone, due to the fact that
her face was still buried in her hands. "I'm thinking. Please do not
speak to me for a minute."

With a little shrug of her shoulders Eleanor fell silent, and she
surveyed Margaret's bowed shoulders as she sat huddled up on the step
beneath her with a touch of scorn in her glance. So Margaret had
difficulty even in summoning up enough courage to go in and face Mrs.
Murray. What a poor thing it was! she thought. But Eleanor was conscious
of no anger against her weak-kneed confederate who was leaving her so
badly in the lurch. She was not to blame for her feeble vacillating
nature, that could not even adhere for three days to the plot she had
entered upon so joyously. Eleanor was only angry with herself for having
put faith in her. And what would Madame Martelli say when she heard that
her pupil was not her real pupil at all? But of her, and of all she would
lose by going away, Eleanor could not trust herself to think. With an
effort she made her mind a blank and stood drearily silent waiting for