10/03/2017 Poor,DearMargaretKirby

Poor,DearMargaretKirby
byKathleenNorris(/author/kathleennorris/biobooksstories)

Acharmingstoryaboutthesometimesunlikelyroadthatsomepeopletraveltofindhappiness"It'sonlythebridgethattakesusovertheriver,"hiswifereminded
him.

"YouandIhavebeenmarriednearlysevenyears,"MargaretKirbyreflectedbitterly,"andIsupposeweareasnearhatingeach
otherastwocivilizedpeopleeverwere!"

Shedidnotsayitaloud.TheKirbyshadlongagogivenupanydiscussionoftheirattitudetoeachother.Butasthethoughtcame
intohermindsheeyedherhusbandloungingmoodilyinhermotorcar,astheyswepthomethroughthewintertwilightwith
hopeless,mutinousirritation.

Whatwasthematter,shewondered,withJohnandMargaretKirbyyoung,handsome,rich,andpopular?Whathadbeenwrong
withtheirmarriage,thatbrilliantlyheraldedandwidelyadvertisedevent?Whosefaultwasitthattheytwocouldnotseemto
understandeachother,couldnotseemtoliveouttheirlivestogetherinhonorableanddignifiedcompanionship,asgenerationsof
theirforebearshaddone?

"Perhapseveryone'smarriageismoreorlesslikeours,"Margaretmusedmiserably."Perhapsthere'snosuchthingasahappy
marriage."

Almostallthewomenthatsheknewadmittedunhappinessofonesortoranother,anddiscussedtheirdomestictroublesfreely.
Margarethadneversunktothatitwouldnotevenhavebeenarelieftoanatureasselfsufficientandascoldashers.Butfor
yearsshehadfeltthathermarriagetiewasanirksomeanddistastefulbond,andonlythatafternoonshehadbeenstungbythe
bitterfactthatthestateofaffairsbetweenherhusbandandherselfwasnosecretfromtheirworld.Acertainaudaciousnewspaper
hadboldlyhintedthattherewouldsoonbeasensationalseparationintheKirbyhousehold,whosebeautifulmistresswould
undoubtedlyfollowherfirstunhappymaritalexperiencewithanotherand,itwastobehoped,amorefortunatemarriage.

Margarethadlaughedwhenthearticlewasshownher,withtheeasyflippancythatisthestockintradeofhertypeofsociety
womanbutthearrowhadreachedherverysoul,nevertheless.

Soithadcometothat,hadit?SheandJohnhadfailed!Theyweretobedraggedthroughthepublicity,thehumiliations,that
precedethesunderingofwhatGodhasjoinedtogether.Theyhaddrifted,assomanyhundredsandthousandsofmenandwomen
drift,fromthewarm,gloriouscompanionshipofthehoneymoon,toquarrels,totruces,todiscussion,toarecognitionoftheirutter
differenceinpointofview,andtothisfinalindependent,cooladjustment,thatlefttheirlivesasutterlyseparatedasiftheyhad
nevermet.

Yetshehaddoneonlywhatallthewomensheknewhaddone,Margaretremindedherselfinselfjustification.Shehaddoneita
littlemorebrilliantly,perhapsshehadspentmoremoney,wornhandsomerjewelsandgownsshehadsucceededinidlingaway
herlifeinthatutterleisurethatwastheidealofthemall,whethertheywerequiteabletoachieveitornot.Somewomenhadto
ordertheirdinners,hadoccasionallytogoaboutinhiredvehicles,hadtoconsiderthecostofhatsandgownsbutMargaret,the
envied,hadherowncarriageandmotorcar,hercapablehousekeeper,heryearlytriptoParisforuncountedfrocksandhats.

Allthewomensheknewwereuseless,boastingratherofwhattheydidnothavetodothanofwhattheydid,andMargaretwas
moresuccessfullyuselessthantheothers.Butwasn'tthatthelotofawomanwhoisrich,andmarriesaricherman?Wasn'titwhat
marriedlifeshouldbe?

"Idon'tknowwhatmakesmenervoustonight,"Margaretsaidtoherselffinally,settlingbackcomfortablyinherfurs."PerhapsI
onlyimagineJohnisgoingtomakeoneofhisfavoritesceneswhenwegethome.Probablyhehasn'tseenthearticleatall.Idon't
care,anyway!Ifitshouldcometoadivorce,why,weknowplentyofpeoplewhoarehappierthatway.ThankHeaven,thereisn'ta

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childtocomplicatethings!"

Fivefeetawayfromher,asthemotorcarwaitedbeforecrossingtheparkentrance,atallmanandalaughinggirlwerestanding,
waitingtocrossthestreet.

"Butaren'twetoolateforgalleryseats?"Margaretheardthegirlsay,evidentlydeepinanimportantchoice.

"Oh,no!"themanassuredhereagerly.

"ThenIchoosethefiftycentdinnerand'Hoffman'byallmeans,"shedecidedjoyously.

Margaretlookedafterthem,asuddenpainatherheart.Shedidnotknowwhatthepainwas.Shethoughtshewaspityingthat
younghusbandandwifebutherthoughtswentbacktothemassheenteredherownwarm,luxuriousroomsafewmomentslater.

"Fiftycentdinner!"shemurmured."Itmustbeawful!"

Tohersurprise,herhusbandfollowedherintoherroom,withoutknocking,andpaidnoattentiontotheverycoldstarewithwhich
shegreetedhim.

"Sitdownaminute,Margaret,willyou?"hesaid,"andletyourwomango.Iwanttospeaktoyou."

Angrytofeelherselfalittleatloss,Margaretnoddedtothemaid,andsaidinacarefullycontrolledtone:

"IamdiningattheKelseys',John.Perhapssomeothertime"

Herhusband,athin,tallman,prematurelygray,waspacingthefloornervously,hishandsplungeddeepinhiscoatpockets.He
clearedhisthroatseveraltimesbeforehespoke.Hisvoicewassharp,andhiswordsweredeliveredquickly:

"It'scometothis,MargaretI'mverysorrytohavetotellyou,butthingshavefinallyreachedthepointwhereit'sit'sgottocome
out!BannisterandIhavebeennursingitalongwe'vedoneallthatwecould.IwentdowntoWashingtonandsawPeterson,butit's
nouse!Weturnitalloverthewholethingtothecreditorstomorrow!"Hisvoicerosesuddenlyitwasshockingtoseethecontrol
suddenlyfail."Itellyouit'sallup,Margaret!It'stheendofme!Iwon'tfaceit!"

Hedroppedintoachair,butsuddenlysprangupagain,andbegantowalkabouttheroom.

"Now,youcandojustwhatyouthinkwise,"heresumedpresently,intheadvisory,quiettonesheusuallyusedtoher."Youcan
alwayshavetheincomeofyourParkAvenuehouseyourAuntPaulwillbegladenoughtogoabroadwithyou,andthereare
personalthingsthehousesilverandthebooksthatyoucanclaim.I'velainawakenightsplanning"Hisvoiceshookagain,but
hegainedhiscalmafteramoment."Iwanttoaskyounottoworkyourselfupoverit,"headded.

Therewasasilence.Margaretregardedhiminstonyfury.Shewasdeadlywhite.

"DoyoumeanthatThrockmorton,Kirby,&Sonhavehasfailed?"sheasked."Doyoumeanthatmymoneythemoneythatmy
fatherleftmeisgone?DoesMr.Bannistersayso?Whywhyhasitneveroccurredtoyoutowarnme?"

"Ididwarnyou.Ididtrytotellyou,inJulywhy,alltheworldknewhowthingsweregoing!"

If,onthelastword,therecreptintohisvoicethepleathatevenastrongmanmakestohiswomenforsympathy,forsolace,
Margaret'seyeskilledit.John,turningtogo,gaveherwhatconsolationhecould.

"Margaret,IcanonlysayI'msorry.ItriedBannisterknowshowItriedtoholdmyown.ButIwasprettyyoungwhenyourfather
died,andtherewasnoonetohelpmelearn.I'mgladitdoesn'tmeanactualsufferingforyou.Someday,perhaps,we'llgetsome
ofitback.GodknowsIhopeso.I'venotmeantmuchtoyou.Yourmarriagehascostyouprettydear.ButI'mgoingtodotheonly
thingIcanforyou."

Silencefollowed.Margaretpresentlyrousedherself.

"Isupposethiscanbekeptfromthepapers?Weneedn'tbediscussedandpointedatinthestreets?"sheaskedheavily,herfacea
maskofdistaste.

"That'simpossible,"saidJohn,briefly.

"Tosomepeoplenothingisimpossible,"Margaretsaid.

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Herhusbandturnedagainwithoutaword,andlefther.Afterwardsherememberedthesickmiseryinhiseyes,thewhitenessofhis
face.

Whatdidshedothen?Shedidn'tknow.Didshegoatoncetothedressingtable?DidsheringforLouise,orwasshealoneasshe
slowlygotherselfintoaloosewrapperandunpinnedherhair?

Howlongwasitbeforesheheardthathorriblecryinthehall?Whatwasitthat,orthevoicesandtheflyingfootsteps,thatbrought
her,shakenandgasping,toherfeet?

Sheneverknew.SheonlyknewthatshewasinJohn'sdressingroom,andthattheservantswereclustered,asobbing,terrified
group,inthedoorway.John'shead,heavy,withshuteyes,wasonhershoulderJohn'slimpbodywasinherarms.Theywere
tellingherthatthiswasthebottlehehademptied,andthathewasdead.

II

Itwasamiraclethattheyhadgotherhusbandtothehospitalalive,thedoctorstoldMargaret,latethatnight.Hislifecouldbeonly
aquestionofmoments.Itwasextraordinarythatheshouldlivethroughthenight,theytoldherthenextmorningbutitcouldnot
lastmorethanafewhoursnow.ItwasimpossibleforJohnKirbytolive,theysaidbutJohnKirbylived.

Helived,tostrugglethroughagoniesundreamedof,backtodaysofnewpain.Thereweredaysandweeksandmonthswhenhe
lay,merelybreathing,nowlightly,nowjustashademoredeeply.

Therecameadaywhengreatdoctorsgatheredabouthimtoexultthatheundoubtedly,indisputablywincedwhenthehypodermic
needlehurthim.Therewasagreatday,inlatesummer,whenhemutteredsomething.Thencamerelapses,discouragements,the
bitterretracingofsteps.

OnChristmasDayheopenedhiseyes,andsaidtothegrave,thinwomanwhosatwithherhandinhis:

"Margaret!"

Heslippedoffagaintooquicklytoknowthatshehadbrokenintotearsandfallenonherkneesbesidehim.

Afterawhilehesatup,andwasreadto,andfinallyweptbecausethenursestoldhimthatsomedayhewouldwanttogetupand
walkaboutagain.Hiswifecameeveryday,andheclungtoherlikeachild.Sometimes,watchingher,atroubledthoughtwould
darkenhiseyesbutonadaywhentheyfirstspokeoftheterriblepast,shesmiledathimthemotherlysmilethathewasbeginning
sotolove,andtoldhimthatallbusinessaffairscouldwait.Andhebelievedher.

Onegloriousspringafternoon,whentheparklookeddeliriouslyfreshandgreenfromthehospitalwindows,Johnreceived
permissiontoextendhislittledailywalkbeyondthenarrowgarden.Withaninvalid'simpatience,hebemoanedthefactthathiswife
wouldnotbetherethatdaytoaccompanyhimonhisfirsttripintotheworld.

Hisnurselaughedathim.

"Don'tyouthinkyou'rewellenoughtogoandmakealittlecallonMrs.Kirby?"shesuggestedbrightly."She'sonlytwoblocksaway,
youknow.She'srighthereonMadisonAvenue.Keepinthesunlightandwalkslowly,andbesuretocomebackbeforeit'scold,or
I'llsendthepoliceafteryou."

Thuswarned,Johnstartedoff,delightedattheindependencethathewasgainingdayafterday.Hewalkedthetwoshortblocks
withthecarethatonlyconvalescentsknowalittleconfusedbythegay,jarringstreetnoises,thewidelightandairabouthim.

Hefoundtheaddress,butsomehowthebig,gloomydoublehousedidn'tlooklikeMargaret.TherewasaMrs.Kirbythere,themaid
assuredhim,however,andJohnsatdowninahopelesslyuglydrawingroomtowaitforher.Instead,therecameinacheerfullittle
womanwhointroducedherselfasMrs.Kippam.Shewasofthechattering,confidentialtypesooftenfoundinherposition.

"Now,youwantedMrs.Kirby,didn'tyou?"shesaidregretfully."She'sout.I'mthehousekeeperhere,andIthoughtifitwasjusta
questionofrooms,maybeI'ddoaswell?"

"There'ssomemistake,"saidJohnandhewasstillweakenoughtofeelhimselfchokeatthedisappointment."IwantMrs.John
KirbyaverybeautifulMrs.Kirby,whoisquiteprominentin"

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"Oh,yes,indeed!"saidMrs.Kippam,loweringhervoiceandgrowingconfidential."That'sthesameone.Herhusbandfailed,and
allbutkilledhimself,youknowyou'vereadaboutitinthepapers?Shesoldeverythingshehad,youknow,tohelpoutthefirm,
andthenshecamehere"

"Boughtoutaninterestinthis?"saidJohn,veryquietly,inhiswinningvoice.

"Well,shejustcamehereasaregularguestatfirst,"saidMrs.Kippam,withacautiousglanceatthedoor."Iwasrunningitthen
butI'dgotintoawfuldebt,andmylittleboywassick,andIgottotellinghermyworries.Well,shewaslookingforsomethingtodo
acompanionorprivatesecretarypositionbutshedidn'tfindit,andshehadsomanygoodideasaboutthishouse,andhelpedme
outso,justtalkingthingsover,thatfinallyIaskedherifshewouldn'tbemypartner.Andshewasgladtoshewasjustabout
worriedtodeathbythattime."

"IthoughtMrs.Kirbyhadpropertyinvestmentsinherownname?"Johnsaid.

"Oh,shedid,butsheputeverythingrightbackintothefirm,"saidMrs.Kippam."Lotsofheroldfriendswentbackonherfordoing
it,"thelittlewomanwenton,inaburstofloyalanger."However,"sheadded,verymuchenjoyingherlistener'scloseattention,"I
declaremyluckseemedtochangethedayshetookhold!Firstthingwasthatherfriends,andalotthatweren'therfriends,came
hereoutofcuriosity,andthatadvertisedtheplace.Thensheslavesdayandnight,goesrightintothekitchenherselfandwatches
thingsandshehassuchawaywiththehelpsheknowshowtomanagethem.Andtheresultisthatwe'vegotthehousepacked
fornextwinter,andwe'llhaveasmanyasthirtypeoplehereallsummerlong.Ifeellikeanotherperson,"thetearssuddenly
brimmedherweak,kindeyes,andshefumbledwithherhandkerchief."You'llthinkI'mcrazyrunningonthisway!"saidlittleMrs.
Kippam,"buteverythinghasgonesogood.MyLestyismuchbetter,andasthingsarenowIcangethimintothecountrynextyear
andIfeellikeIoweditalltoMargaretKirby!"

Johntriedtospeak,buttheroomwaswheelingabouthim.Asheraisedhistremblinghandtohiseyes,ashadowfellacrossthe
doorway,andMargaretcamein.Tired,shabby,ladenwithbundles,shestoodblinkingathimamomentandthen,withasudden
cryoftendernessandpity,shewasonherkneesbyhisside.

"Margaret!Margaret!"hewhispered."Whathaveyoudone?"

Shedidnotanswer,butgatheredhimcloseinherstrongarms,andtheykissedeachotherwithweteyes.

III

AfewweekslaterJohncametotheboardinghouse,nervous,discouraged,stillweak.DespiteMargaret'sbravery,theybothfelt
thepositionastrainedanduncomfortableone.Asdayafterdayprovedhisutterunfitnessforafreshbusinessstartinthecruel,
jarringcompetitionofthebigcity,John'sspiritsnaggedpitifully.Hehatedtheboardinghouse.

"It'sonlythebridgethattakesusovertheriver,"hiswiferemindedhim.

Butwhenalittlefactoryinalittletown,halfaday'sjourneyaway,offeredJohnamanager'sposition,atasalarythatmadethem
bothsmile,shelethimacceptitwithoutamurmur.

Hercouragelasteduntilhewasonthetrain,travellingtowardthenewtownandthenewposition.Butasshewalkedbacktoher
ownbusiness,asortofnauseaseizedher.Thebig,heroicfightwasoverJohn'slifewassaved,andthedebtreducedtoa
reasonableburden.Butthedeadlymonotonywasahead,thedrudgeryofdaysanddaysofhatefullabor,thestruggleforwhat?
Whencouldtheyevertaketheirplaceagainintheworldthattheyknew?Whocouldeverworkupagainfromdebtslikethese?
WouldJohnalwaysbetheweak,helplessconvalescent,orwouldhegobacktotheoldtype,thebored,silentmanofclubsand
business?

Margaretturnedagrimycorner,andwasjoinedbyoneofherboarders,acheerfullittlearmywife.

"Well,we'llmissMr.Kirby,I'msure,"saidlittleMrs.Camp,astheymountedthesteps."Andbytheway,Mrs.Kirby,youwon'tmind
ifIaskifwemayn'tjustnowandthenhavesomeofthenewtowelsonourfloorwillyou?Wenevergetanythingbuttheold,thin
towels.Ofcourse,it'sAlma'sfaultbutIthinkeveryoneoughttotakeaturnatthenewtowelsaswellastheold,don'tyou?"

"I'llspeaktoAlma,"saidMargaret,turningherkey.

Alonely,busyautumnfollowed,andawinterofhardandthanklesswork.

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"Ifeellikeaplumber'swife,"smiledMargarettoMrs.Kippam,wheninNovemberJohnwroteherofa"raise."

ButwhenhecamedownfortwodaysatChristmastime,shenoticedthathewasbrown,cheerful,andamazinglystrong.Theywere
asshyasloversonthislittleholiday,Margaretfindingthatheroldmaternal,halfpatronizingattitudetowardherhusbanddidnotfit
thecaseatall,andJohnalmostasmuchataloss.

InAprilshewentuptoApplebridge,andtheyspentawholedayroamingaboutinthefreshspringfieldstogether.

"It'sreallyadeliciouslittleplace,"sheconfidedtoMrs.Kippamwhenshereturned."Thesortofplacewherekiddiescarrytheir
lunchestoschool,andtheirmothersputuppreserves,andeverybodyhasasurreyandanoldhorse.John'squiteabigmanup
there."

AftertheAprilvisitcamealongbreak,forJohnwenttoChicagointheJulyfortnighttheyhadplannedtospendtogetherandwhen
heatlastcametoNewYorkforanotherChristmas,Margaretwasinbedwithabadthroat,andcouldonlywhisperherquestions.
Soanotherwinterstruggledby,andanotherspring,andwhensummercameMargaretfoundthatitwasalmostimpossibletobreak
awayfromherincreasingresponsibilities.

Butonafragrant,softOctoberdayshefoundherselfgettingofftheearlytraininthelittlestationandasabigmanwavedhishatto
her,andtheyturnedtowalkdowntheroadtogether,theysmiledintoeachother'seyesliketwochildren.

"Wereyousurprisedattheletter?"saidJohn.

"Notsomuchsurprisedasglad,"saidMargaret,coloringlikeagirl.

Theypresentlyturnedoffthemainroad,andenteredacertaingate.Beyondthegatewasanold,overgrowngarden,andbeyond
thatahouseabroad,shabbyhouseandbeyondthatagainanorchard,andbarnsandouthouses.

Johntookakeyfromhispocket,andtheyopenedthefrontdoor.Roses,lookinginthebackdoor,acrossabare,widestretchof
hall,smiledatthem.Thesunlightfelleverywhereinclearsquaresonthebarefloors.Itbrightenedthebigkitchen,andglintedinthe
pantry,stillfaintlyredolentofapplesstoredonshelves.Itcreptintotheattic,andtouchedthescoredcasementwhereyearsagoa
dozenchildrenhadrecordedtheirheightsandages.

MargaretandJohncameoutontheporchagain,andsheturnedtohimwithbrimmingeyes.Itsuddenlysweptoverher,witha
thankfulnesstoodeepforrealization,thatthiswouldbeherworld.Shewouldsitonthiswideporch,waitingforhiminthesummer
afternoonsshewouldgoaboutfromroomtoroomonthehappy,commonplacejourneysofhousekeepingwouldkeepthefire
blazingagainstJohn'sreturn.Andintheyearstocomeperhapstherewouldbeothervoicesabouttheoldhousetherewouldbe
littleshiningheadstokeepthesunlightalwaysthere.

"Well,Margaret,doyoulikeit?"saidJohn,hisarmabouther,hisfaceradiantwithprideandhappiness.

"LikeitI"saidMargaret."Why,it'shome!"

IV

SotheKirbysdisappearedfromtheworld.SometimesanewcomeratMargaret'sclubwouldaskaboutthegreatportraitthathung
overthelibraryfireplacetheportraitofacoldeyedwomanwithbeautifulpearlsaboutherbeautifulthroat.Thenthehistoryofpoor,
dearMargaretKirbywouldberevieweditstriumphs,itsglories,Margaret'sbrilliantmarriage,herbeauty,herwit.Theseonlyledto
thefinaltragicscenesthathadendeditall.

"Andnowsheisgrubbingawaydearknowswhere!"herbiographerwouldsaycarelessly."Absolutely,theymightaswellbe
buried!"

ButaboutsevenyearsaftertheKirbys'disappearance,ithappenedthatfourofMargaret'soldintimatestheT.IllingtonFrarysand
theJosiahDunningsweretakingalittlemotortripintheDunnings'bigcar,throughthenorthernpartoftheState.Justoutsidethe
littlevillageofApplebridge,somethingmysteriousandannoyinghappenedtothecar,whichstoppedshort,andaftersome
discussionitwasdecidedthattheladiesshouldwaittherein,whilethemenwalkedbackinsearchofhelp.

Mrs.DunningandMrs.Frary,settlingthemselvescomfortablyinthetonneauforalongwait,puzzledthemselvesalittleoverthe
nameofApplebridge.

"Icanjustrememberhearingofit,"saidMrs.Dunning,sleepily,"butwhenorwhereorhowIdon'tknow."

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Theyopenedtheirbooks.AbrilliantMayafternoonthrobbed,hummed,sparkledallaboutthem.Thebigwheelsofthemotorwere
deepingrassandblossoms.Oneithersideoftheroad,fieldsweregaywithbeesandbutterflies.Larksloopedtheblackberry
vineswithquickflightsmustardtopsshowedtheirpalegoldundertheappleblossoms.

Hereandthereawhiteclouddriftedinthedeep,clearblueofthesky.Therehadbeenrainsadayortwobefore,andinthefragrant
airstillhungalittlechill,ahauntingsuggestionofwetearthandrefreshedblossoms.Somewherenear,butoutofsight,aflooded
creekwastumblingnoisilyoveritsshallows.

SuddenlytheSundaystillnesswasbrokenbyvoices.Thetwowomeninthemotorlookedateachother,listening.Theyhearda
woman'svoice,singingthenasmallboyishvoice,thenaman'svoice.Thespeakers,whoevertheywere,apparentlysettleddown
inthemeadow,notmorethanadozenyardsaway,forabreathingspace.Atangleofvinesandbushesscreenedthemfromthe
motorcar.

"Mother,aremeandBillygoingtoturnthefreezer?"saidachild'svoice,andamanasked:

"Tired,oldlady?"

"No,notatall.It'sbeenadeliciouswalk,"saidthewoman.Thetwosittinginthemotorgasped."Yes,yes,yes,lovey,"thewoman's
voicewenton,"youandBillmayturn,ifMarydoesn'tmind.Becarefulofmyfern,Jack!"Andthen,inGerman:"Aren'ttheylovelyin
allthegrassandflowers,John?"

"Margaret!"breathedMrs.Frary."Poor,dearMargaretKirby!"

"Ihopetheydon'tgobythisway,"whisperedMrs.Dunning,afteranastoundedsecond."One'sbeensorudedon'tyouknow
forgettingher!"

"Sheprobablywon'tknowus,"Mrs.Frarywhisperedback,adjustingherveilinastealthyway.

Mrs.Frarywasright.TheKirbyspresentlypassedwithonlyacursoryglanceattheswathedoccupantsofthemotorcar.Theywere
laughinglikealotofchildrenastheyscrambledthroughthehedge.Johnabig,broadJohn,asstrongandbriskasaboycarried
atinybarefootgirlonhisshoulder.Margaret,herbeautymorestartlingthaneverunderthesweepofagypsyhathersplendid
figurealittlebroader,butstillmagnificentunderthecottongownherarmsfullofflowersandferns,wasescortedbytwomore
children,sturdylittleboys,whodoubledandredoubledontheirtrackslikepuppies.Thetinybarefootgirl,inherfather'sarms,was
onlyatangleofblueginghamanddriftingstrandsofsilkyhairbuttheboysweresplendidlyalertlittlelads,andtheirhighvoices
loiteredintheairaftertheradiant,chatteringlittlecaravanhadquitedisappeared.

"Well!"saidMrs.Dunning,then.

"Poor,dearMargaretKirby!"wasonMrs.Frary'slipsbutshedidn'tsayit.

SheandMrs.Dunningstaredateachotheralongminute,utterlyataloss.Thentheyreopenedtheirbooks.

Poor,DearMargaretKirbywasfeaturedasTheShortStoryoftheDay(/shortstoryoftheday)onFri,Nov27,2015

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