A long miserable silence; then, her grandmother: "What do you
purpose to do, Margaret?"
"To hustle," said the girl with a short, bitter laugh. "I must
rope in somebody. Oh, I've been realizing, these past two months.
I'm awake at last."
Madam Bowker studied the girl's face, gave a sigh of relief. "I
feel greatly eased," said she. "I see you are coming to your
senses before it's too late. I knew you would. You have inherited
too much of my nature, of my brain and my character."
Margaret faced the old woman in sudden anger. "If you had made
allowances for that, if you had reasoned with me quietly, instead
of nagging and bullying and trying to compel, all this might have
been settled long ago." She shrugged her shoulders. "But that's
past and done. I'm going to do my best. Only--I warn you, don't
try to drive me! I'll not be driven!"
"What do you think of Grant Arkwright?" asked her grandmother.
"I intend to marry him," replied Margaret.
The old lady's stern eyes gleamed delight.
"But," Margaret hastened to add, "you mustn't interfere. He
doesn't like you. He's afraid of you. If you give the slightest
sign, he'll sheer off. You must let me handle him.
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