But I shall like to know that you're thinking about me." Maggie's new-found resolution taken so defiantly upon the moor was suddenly severely tested.

She felt as though her uncle were leaving her to a world of enemies.

She drove down her sense of desolation, and he saw nothing but her quiet composure.
"Of course I'll think of you," she answered.

"And you must come often." "They don't like me," he said, nodding his head towards where Aunt Anne might be supposed to be waiting.

"It's not my fault altogether--but they have severe ideas.