"You've hated my being here, Maggie...all this time I've seen it.You've hated me.You don't know that you owe everything to me, that you couldn't have managed the house, the shops, the servants--nothing, nothing.This last year I've worked my fingers to the bone for you and Paul.What do you think I get out of it? Nothing.It's because I love Paul...because I love Paul.But you've hated my doing things better than you, you've wanted me to fail, you've been jealous, that's what you've been.Very well, then, I'll go.You've made that plain enough at any rate.I'll leave to-morrow.I won't wait another hour.And I'll never forgive you for this--never.
You've taken Paul away from me...all I've ever had.I'll never forgive you--never, never, never.""Grace, Grace," cried Paul.
But she rushed from the room.
Maggie looked at her husband.
"Why, Paul," she said, "you're frightened.Grace doesn't mean it.
She won't go to-morrow--or ever.There's nothing to be frightened of."His red cheeks were pale.His hands trembled.
"I do so hate quarrels," he said.
Maggie went up to him and rather timidly put her hand on his arm.
"We'll have a lovely time at Harben," she said."Oh, I do want you to be happy, Paul."