"I don't belong to any one except
myself." "And Martin" her soul whispered. Then she added, suddenly
moved by remorse as she looked at Aunt Elizabeth's meek and
trembling face, "You're so good to me, both of you, and I'm so bad.
I'll give you anything but my freedom."
"You talk so strangely, dear," said Aunt Elizabeth. "But there are
so many things I don't understand."
Maggie took the letter up to her bedroom and there read it a number
of times. It all seemed wonderful to her, the stamped blue address,
the rich white square notepaper, and above all the beautiful
handwriting. She thought of her own childish scrawl and blushed, she
even sat down, there and then, at her dressing-table and, with a
pencil, began to imitate some of the letters.
On Friday! To-day was Tuesday. Bryanston Square. Wherever was
Bryanston Square, and how would she find it? She determined to ask
Caroline Smith.
She had not long to wait for her opportunity. On Wednesday evening
about half-past five Miss Smith poked her head into the Cardinal
drawing-room to discover Maggie sitting with her hands on her lap
looking down on to the street.
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