The Turn of the Tide
Copyright© 2024 by Eleanor H. Porter
Chapter 20
Early in the second week of September the houseful of guests at Hilcrest went away, leaving the family once more alone.
“It seems good; doesn’t it—just by ourselves,” said Margaret that first morning at breakfast. As she spoke three pairs of eyes flashed a message of exultant thankfulness to each other, and three heads nodded an “I told you so!” when Margaret’s gaze was turned away. Later, Mrs. Merideth put the sentiment into words, as she followed her brothers to the door.
“You see, I was right,” she declared. “Margaret only needed livening up. She’s all right now, and will be contented here with us.”
“Sure!” agreed Ned, as he stepped out on to the veranda. Frank paused a moment.
“Has she ever been to you again, Della, with money, or—or anything?” he asked in a low voice.
“No, never,” replied Mrs. Merideth. “She asked once if I’d found the child, Maggie, to give the money to, and I evaded a direct reply. I told her I had put the money into the hands of the Guild, and that they were in constant touch with all cases of need. I got her interested in talking of something else, and she did not say anything more about it.”
“Good! It’s the best way. You know her history, and how morbid she got when she was a child. It won’t do to run any chances of that happening again; and I fear ‘twouldn’t take much to bring it back. She was not a little excited when she brought the money in to me that night. We must watch out sharp,” he finished as he passed through the door, and hurried down the steps after his brother.
Back in the dining-room Margaret had wandered listlessly to the window. It had been some weeks since she had seen a long day before her with no plans to check off the time into hours and half-hours of expected happenings. She told herself that it was a relief and that she liked it—but her fingers tapped idly upon the window, and her eyes gazed absent-mindedly at a cloud sailing across a deep blue sky.
After a time she turned to the door near by and stepped out upon the veranda. She could hear voices from around the corner, and aimlessly she wandered toward them. But before she had reached the turn the voices had ceased; and a minute later she saw Frank and Ned step into the waiting automobile and whir rapidly down the driveway.
Mrs. Merideth had disappeared into the house, and Margaret found herself alone. Slowly she walked toward the railing and looked at the town far below. The roofs showed red and brown and gray in the sunlight, and were packed close together save at the outer edges, where they thinned into a straggling fringe of small cottages and dilapidated shanties.
Margaret shivered with repulsion. How dreadful it must be to live like that—no air, no sun, no view of the sky and of the cool green valley! And there were so many of them—those poor creatures down there, with their wasted forms and sunken eyes! She shuddered again as she thought of how they had thronged the road on the day of the picnic at Silver Lake—and then she turned and walked with resolute steps to the farther side of the veranda where only the valley and the hills met her eyes.
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