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Updated: June 21, 2025
She could hear the ring of truth in young Dawnish's voice: "It's not my fault if you've made me feel that you would understand everything...." No! she believed in her miracle, and the belief sweetened and illumined her life; but she came to see that what was for her the transformation of her whole being might well have been, for her companion, a mere passing explosion of gratitude, of boyish good-fellowship touched with the pang of leave-taking.
As she dragged her feet from one step to another, she remembered how she had sprung up the same steep flight after that visit of Guy Dawnish's when she had looked in the glass and seen on her face the blush of youth. When she reached her room she bolted the door as she had done that day, and again looked at herself in the narrow mirror above her dressing-table.
"I heard such a funny thing yesterday about your friend Mr. Dawnish. Of course she asked about you and Mr. Ransom, and then she told me she had just seen Mr. Dawnish's aunt the clever one he was always talking about, Lady Caroline something and that they were all in a dreadful state about him. I wonder if you knew he was engaged when he went to America? He never mentioned it to us.
To begin with, what had made to-day's visit so different from the others? It became suddenly vivid to her that there had been many, almost daily, others, since Guy Dawnish's coming to Wentworth. Even the previous winter the winter of his arrival from England his visits had been numerous enough to make Wentworth aware that very naturally Mrs.
The envelope bore the London post mark, a fact showing that the lady's face was turned toward home. Margaret seated herself on her bench, and drawing out the letter began to read it. The London described was that of shops and museums as remote as possible from the setting of Guy Dawnish's existence. But suddenly Margaret's eye fell on his name, and the page began to tremble in her hands.
For the unconsciousness was unmistakable. Margaret was not without experience of the transatlantic visitor who sounds loud names and evokes reverberating connections. The poetry of Guy Dawnish's situation lay in the fact that it was so completely a part of early associations and accepted facts.
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