She was caught thus, laughing into the mirror, by old Martha, who
pushed her sour face through the door and said: "They've been
waiting this long time for you, Miss."
"All right, Martha," Maggie answered sharply, annoyed that she
should be found, posturing and bowing, by the woman. "Why didn't you
knock?"
"I did knock, Miss. You were that occupied you didn't hear me." The
old woman was grinning.
Maggie went downstairs, her heart still beating, her cheeks still
flushed. She did hope that Aunt Anne would be pleased. Aunt Anne,
although she never said anything about clothes, must, of course,
notice such things, and if she loved Maggie as Mr. Magnus said she
did, then she would "show her approval." The girl stood for a moment
on the bottom step of the staircase looking at her aunt who was
waiting for her in the little dark hall.
"Well, dear--I'm waiting," she said.
The burning eyes of Thomas the cat watched from the deep shadows.
"I'm so sorry. I was dressing," said Maggie.
Her aunt said nothing more and they left the house.
Maggie, as always when she walked with Aunt Anne, was aware that
they made a strange couple, she so short and the other so tall, she
with her sturdy masculine walk, her aunt with her awkward halting
movement.
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