She had heard now and then of Dr.
Angus since that summer--her last vacation had been passed with cousins
in New England--and he was said to be courting a Mrs. Murray, a rich and
charming neighbor of her father's.
Dr. Angus had friends in Colorado. Now she remembered he had a relative
who had helped to found Hilox, and had endowed a chair of languages or
literature; she was not certain which. So it must be to _him_ she was
indebted, and, oddly, she was more indignant than grateful. The natural
intervention of a friendly hand in the matter took all the satisfaction
out of her surprise.
Not that she loved Dr. Angus! But she did not choose to be under an
obligation to him. What girl would in the circumstances?
II.
All this time the letter from home lay overlooked on the pillow. If it
could have spoken it would have reproached the daughter for her
absorption in its companion, but it bided its time. Presently Margaret
turned with a start, saw it, felt a remorseful stab, and tore it open,
without the aid of a hair-pin.
This is what the home letter had to say. It was from Margaret's father,
and as he seldom wrote to her, leaving, as many men do, the bulk of
correspondence with absent members of the family to be the care of his
wife and children, she felt a premonitory thrill.
The Lees were a very affectionate and devoted household, clannish to a
degree, and undemonstrative, as mountaineers often are.
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