I'll never
forgive you--never, never, never."
"Grace, Grace," cried Paul.
But she rushed from the room.
Maggie looked at her husband.
"Why, Paul," she said, "you're frightened. Grace doesn't mean it.
She won't go to-morrow--or ever. There's nothing to be frightened
of."
His red cheeks were pale. His hands trembled.
"I do so hate quarrels," he said.
Maggie went up to him and rather timidly put her hand on his arm.
"We'll have a lovely time at Harben," she said. "Oh, I do want you
to be happy, Paul."
CHAPTER VI
THE BATTLE OF SKEATON
SECOND YEAR
Strangely enough Maggie felt happier after this disturbance. Grace,
in the weeks that followed, was an interesting confusion of silent
and offended dignity and sudden capitulations because she had some
news of fussing interest that she must impart. Nevertheless she was
deeply hurt. She was as tenacious of her grievances as a limpet is
of its rock, and she had never been so severely wounded before.
Maggie, on her side, liked Grace better after the quarrel. She had
never really disliked her, she had only been irritated by her.
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