Wilbur's face was very stern.
"My dear," said Margaret, "I knew perfectly well that if I actually asked her to speak or read, she would have refused." "You have done an unpardonable thing," said the man.

"You have betrayed your own sense of honour, your hospitality toward the guest under your roof." Margaret laughed as she took an ornament from her yellow head but the laugh was defiant and forced.

In her heart she bitterly resented her husband's attitude and more bitterly resented the attitude of respect into which it forced her.

"It is the very last time I ask a Western authoress to accept my hospitality," said she.
"I hope so," said Wilbur gravely.
That night Karl von Rosen walked home with Annie Eustace.

She had come quite unattended, as was the wont of Fairbridge ladies.