Captain Wragge requested her in that case to oblige him
by joining a walking excursion in Mr. Noel Vanstone's company at seven
o'clock the next morning. "I will be ready," she replied. "Is there
anything more?" There was nothing more. Magdalen bade him good-night and
returned to her own room.
She had shown the same disinclination to remain any longer than was
necessary in the captain's company throughout the three days of her
seclusion in the house.
During all that time, instead of appearing to weary of Mrs. Wragge's
society, she had patiently, almost eagerly, associated herself with her
companion's one absorbing pursuit. She who had often chafed and
fretted in past days under the monotony of her life in the freedom of
Combe-Raven, now accepted without a murmur the monotony of her life at
Mrs. Wragge's work-table. She who had hated the sight of her needle and
thread in old times--who had never yet worn an article of dress of her
own making--now toiled as anxiously over the making of Mrs. Wragge's
gown, and bore as patiently with Mrs. Wragge's blunders, as if the sole
object of her existence had been the successful completion of that one
dress.
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