One day early in the spring Grace announced that Maggie ought not to go and see Mrs.Purdie any more."There are all sorts of stories,"said Grace."People say--Oh, well, never mind.They have dancing on Sunday.""But she's an old friend of mine," said Maggie.
"You have others to think of beside yourself, Maggie," said Grace.
"And there is the Church."
"She's an old friend of mine," repeated Maggie, her mouth set obstinately.
"I will ask Paul what he thinks," said Grace.
"Please," said Maggie, her colour rising into her cheeks, "don't interfere between Paul and me.I'll speak to him myself."She did.Paul maintained the attitude of indifference that he had adopted during the last six months.
"But would you rather I didn't go?" asked Maggie, aggravated.
"You must use your judgment," said Paul.
"But don't you see that I can't leave a friend just because people are saying nasty things.""There's your position in the parish," said Paul.
"Oh, Paul!" Maggie cried."Don't be so aggravating! Just say what you really think.""I'm sorry I'm aggravating," said Paul patiently.
It was this conversation that determined Maggie.She had been coming, through all the winter months, to a resolution.She must be alone with Paul, she must have things out with him.As the months had gone they had been slipping further and further apart.It had been Paul who had gradually withdrawn into himself.He had been kind and thoughtful but reserved, shy, embarrassed.She understood his trouble, but at her first attempt to force him to speak he escaped and placed Grace between them.Well, this summer should see the end of that.They must know where they stood, and for that they must be alone...