But she was as ignorant about life as ever.The things that now she wanted to know! About Aunt Anne, for instance.How had she been affected by Mr.Warlock's death and the disappointment of her expectations? The Chapel now apparently was to be taken over by Thurston, who had married Amy Warlock and was full of schemes and enterprises.Maggie knew that the aunts went now very seldom to Chapel, and the Inside Saints were apparently in pieces.Was Aunt Anne utterly broken by all this? She did not seem to be so.She seemed to be very much as she had been, except that she was in her room now a great deal.Her health appeared, on the whole, to be better than it had been.And what was Aunt Elizabeth thinking? And Martha? And Miss Avies? And Caroline Smith?...
No, she must get out into the world and discover these things for herself.She did not know how the way of escape would come, but she was certain of its arrival.
It arrived, and through her third visitor.Her third visitor was Mrs.Mark.
When Katherine Mark came in Maggie was writing to Uncle Mathew.She put aside her writing-pad with a little exclamation of surprise.
Mrs.Mark, the very last person in all the world whom she had expected to see! As she saw her come in she had a swift intuition that this was Destiny now that was dealing with her, and that a new scene, involving every sort of new experience and adventure, was opening before her.More than ever before she realised how far Katherine Mark was from the world in which she, Maggie, had during all these months been living.Katherine Mark was Real--Real in her beautiful quiet clothes, in her assurance, her ease, the sense that she gave that she knew life and love and business and all the affairs of men at first hand, not only seen through a mist of superstition and ignorance, or indeed not seen at all.
"This is what I want," something in Maggie called to her.
"This will make me busy and quiet and sensible--at last--"When Katherine Mark sat down and took her hand for a moment, smiling at her in the kindliest way, Maggie felt as though she had known her all her life.
"Oh! I'm so glad you've come!" she cried spontaneously; and then, as though she felt she'd gone too far, she blushed and drew back.
But Katherine held her hand fast.
"I wrote," she said, "some weeks ago to you, and your aunt answered the letter saying you were very ill.Then, as I heard nothing of you, I was anxious and came to see what had happened.You've not kept your word, Maggie, you know.We were to have been great friends, and you've never been near me."At the use of her Christian name Maggie blushed with pleasure.
"I couldn't come," she said."I didn't want to until--until--until some things had settled themselves.""Well--and they have?" asked Katherine.
"Yes--they have," said Maggie.
"What's been the matter?" asked Katherine.
"I was worried about something, and then I was ill," said Maggie.
"And you're not worried now?" said Katherine.
"I'm not going to give in to it, anyway," said Maggie."As soon as I'm well, I'm off.I'll find some work somewhere.""I've got a plan," said Katherine."It came into my head the moment I saw you sitting there.Will you come and stay with us for a little?"That sense that Maggie had had when she saw Katherine of fate having a hand in all of this deepened now and coloured her thoughts, so that she could feel no surprise but only a curious instinct that she had been through all this scene before.
"Stay with you!" she cried."Oh, I should love to!""That's good," said Katherine."Your aunts won't mind, will they?""They can't keep me," said Maggie."I'm free.But they won't want to.Our time together is over--""I'll come and fetch you to-morrow," said Katherine."You shall stay with us until you're quite well, and then we'll find some work for you.""Why are you good to me like this?" Maggie asked.
"I'm not good to you," Katherine answered, laughing."It's simply selfish.It will be lovely for me having you with me.""Oh, you don't know," said Maggie, throwing up her head.
"No, I don't think I'll come.I'm frightened.I'm not what you think.I'm untidy and careless and can't talk to strangers.Perhaps I'll lose you altogether as a friend if I come.""You'll never do that," said Katherine, suddenly bending forward and kissing her."I don't change about people.It's because I haven't any imagination, Phil says.""I shall make mistakes," Maggie said."I've never been anywhere.But I don't care.I can look after myself."The thought of her three hundred pounds (which were no longer three hundred) encouraged her.She kissed Katherine.
"I don't change either," she said.