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Updated: June 27, 2025
Margaret was to leave on the morrow for Bedmouth, where she would spend the summer with old Mrs. Pole. She was lying on the veranda couch. She smiled as Falkner drew a chair to her side, the frank smile from the deep blue eyes, that she gave only to her children and to him, and there was a joyous note in her voice: "At last there is a sign. I have a little more hope now!"
Pole's house stood on the outskirts of the old town of Bedmouth, facing the narrow road that ran eastward to the Point. In the days of Mrs. Pole's father the ships passing to and from Bedmouth on the river could be seen from the front windows. Now the wires of a trolley road disfigured the old street and cheap wooden houses cut off the view of the river.
Margaret stood for a moment watching the car disappear into the distance, thankful that she had escaped Mrs. Hillyer and her new motor just now.... The sun, sinking into the Bedmouth elms across the green marshes, fell full and golden upon her face. It was still and hot and brooding, this sunset hour, like the silent reaches of her heart.
Within the old parlor of the Bedmouth house Mrs. Pole was waiting for a step. It came at last. "The children?" Margaret demanded, kissing the old lady. "Perfectly well." "I must go up to them," and she started for the door. "Wait!" Mrs. Pole said, looking up sadly into the younger woman's pale face, which still held the glow. "Yes, mother?"
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