Now, if you have any justice in you, Cousin, you will hear Peter's side of this story before you judge him." "I have judged him," answered Margaret coldly, "and, oh! I wish that I were dead." Margaret rose from her seat and, stepping to the window-place in the tower which was built upon the edge of a hill, searched the giddy depth beneath with her eyes, where, two hundred feet below, the white line of a roadway showed faintly in the moonlight.
"It would be easy, would it not," she said, with a strained laugh, "just to lean out a little too far upon this stone, and then one swift rush and darkness--or light--for ever--which, I wonder ?" "Light, I think," said Betty, jerking her back from the window--"the light of hell fire, and plenty of it, for that would be self-murder, nothing else, and besides, what would one look like on that road?
Cousin, don't be a fool.

If you are right, it isn't you who ought to go out of that window; and if you are wrong, then you would only make a bad business worse.

Time enough to die when one must, say I--which, perhaps, will be soon enough.

Meanwhile, if I were you, I would try to speak to Master Peter first, if only to let him know what I thought of him." "Mayhap," answered Margaret, sinking back into a chair, "but I suffer--how can you know what I suffer ?" "Why should I not know ?" asked Betty.

"Are you the only woman in the world who has been fool enough to fall in love?
Can I not be as much in love as you are?
You smile, and think to yourself that the poor relation, Betty, cannot feel like her rich cousin.