fractiousness, and his set face. She was filled suddenly with an enormous pity.
“Oh! Laurie, I’m so sorry,” she cried out. “Can’t I do anything?”
“Nothing, thanks; nothing at all,” he said quietly.
Again pity and misery surged up within her, and she cast all prudence to the winds. She had not realized how fond she was of this boy till she saw once more that look in his eyes.
“Oh! Laurie, you know I didn’t like it; but—but I don’t know what to do, I’m so sorry. But don’t spoil it all,” she said wildly, hardly knowing what she feared.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You know what I mean. Don’t spoil it, by—by fancying things.”
“Maggie,” said the boy quietly, “you must let me alone. You can’t help.”
“Can’t I?”
“You can’t help,” he repeated. “I must go my own way. Please don’t say any more. I can’t stand it.”
There followed a dead silence. Then Maggie recovered and stood up. He rose with her.
“Forgive me, Laurie, won’t you? I must say this. You’ll remember I’ll always do anything I can, won’t you?”
Then she was gone.