I’ve got a pearl necklace and a ring in the bank.  Harriet has always wanted them but what is the use of a born old maid decking herself out?  I always knew Harriet and Susan would be old maids.  Why, they would never let their doll-babies be seen without all their clothes on, seemed to think there was something indecent about cotton cloth legs stuffed with sawdust.  When you see a little girl as silly as that you can always be sure she is cut out for an old maid.  I don’t care when you get married—­just as soon as you want to—­and you shall have a pretty wedding and you shall have your wedding cake made after my old recipe.  You are a good girl, Annie.  You look like me.  You are enough sight better than you would be if you were better, and you can make what you can out of that.  Now, you must go to bed.  You haven’t told Harriet and Susan yet, have you?”

“No, grandmother.”

“I’ll tell them myself in the morning,” said the old lady with a chuckle which made her ancient face a mask of mirth and mischief.  “Now, you run along and go to bed.  This book is dull, but I want to see how wicked the writer tried to make it and the heroine is just making an awful effort to run away with a married man.  She won’t succeed, but I want to see how near she gets to it.  Good-night, Annie.  You can have the book to-morrow.”

Annie went to her own room but she made no preparation for bed.  She had planned to work as she had worked lately until nearly morning.  She was hurrying to complete another book which she had begun before Margaret Edes’ announcement that she had written The Poor Lady.  The speedy completion of this book had been the condition of secrecy with her publishers.  However, Annie, before she lit the lamp on her table could not resist the desire to sit for a minute beside her window and gaze out upon the lovely night and revel in her wonderful happiness.  The night was lovely enough for anyone, and for a girl in the rapture of her first love, it was as beautiful as heaven.  The broad village gleaming like silver in the moonlight satisfied her as well as a street of gold and the tree shadows waved softly over everything like wings of benediction.  Sweet odours came in her face.  She could see the soft pallor of a clump of lilies in the front yard.  The shrilling of the night insects seemed like the calls of prophets of happiness.  The lights had gone out of the windows of the Edes’ house, but suddenly she heard a faint, very faint, but very terrible cry and a white figure rushed out of the Edes’ gate.  Annie did not wait a second.  She was up, out of her room, sliding down the stair banisters after the habit of her childhood and after it.

Chapter IX

Margaret Edes, light and slender and supple as she was, and moreover rendered swift with the terrible spur of hysteria, was no match for Annie Eustace who had the build of a racing human, being long-winded and limber.  Annie caught up with her, just before they reached Alice Mendon’s house, and had her held by one arm.  Margaret gave a stifled shriek.  Even in hysteria, she did not quite lose her head.  She had unusual self-control.