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"
I
never
thought
of
Meggie
going
to
a
dance
,
but
take
her
,
Luke
,
and
welcome
!
I
daresay
she
'd
like
it
,
the
poor
little
beggar
.
She
never
gets
out
much
.
We
ought
to
think
of
taking
her
,
but
somehow
we
never
do
.
"
"
Why
do
n't
you
and
Jack
and
Hughie
come
,
too
?
"
Luke
asked
,
apparently
not
averse
to
company
.
Bob
shook
his
head
,
horrified
.
"
No
,
thanks
.
We
're
not
too
keen
on
dances
.
"
Meggie
wore
her
ashes-of-roses
dress
,
not
having
anything
else
to
wear
;
it
had
n't
occurred
to
her
to
use
some
of
the
stockpiling
pounds
Father
Ralph
put
in
the
bank
in
her
name
to
have
dresses
made
for
parties
and
balls
.
Until
now
she
had
managed
to
refuse
invitations
,
for
men
like
Enoch
Davies
and
Alastair
MacQueen
were
easy
to
discourage
with
a
firm
no
.
They
did
n't
have
Luke
O'Neill
's
gall
.
But
as
she
stared
at
herself
in
the
mirror
she
thought
she
just
might
go
into
Gilly
next
week
when
Mum
made
her
usual
trip
,
visit
old
Gert
and
have
her
make
up
a
few
new
frocks
.
For
she
hated
wearing
this
dress
;
if
she
had
owned
one
other
even
remotely
suitable
,
it
would
have
been
off
in
a
second
.
Other
times
,
a
different
black-haired
man
;
it
was
so
tied
up
with
love
and
dreams
,
tears
and
loneliness
,
that
to
wear
it
for
such
a
one
as
Luke
O'Neill
seemed
a
desecration
.
She
had
grown
used
to
hiding
what
she
felt
,
to
appearing
always
calm
and
outwardly
happy
.
Self-control
was
growing
around
her
thicker
than
bark
on
a
tree
,
and
sometimes
in
the
night
she
would
think
of
her
mother
,
and
shiver
.
Would
she
end
up
like
Mum
,
cut
off
from
all
feeling
?
Was
this
how
it
began
for
Mum
back
in
the
days
when
there
was
Frank
's
father
?
And
what
on
earth
would
Mum
do
,
what
would
she
say
if
she
knew
Meggie
had
learned
the
truth
about
Frank
?
Oh
,
that
scene
in
the
presbytery
!
It
seemed
like
yesterday
,
Daddy
and
Frank
facing
each
other
,
and
Ralph
holding
her
so
hard
he
hurt
.
Shouting
those
awful
things
.
Everything
had
fallen
into
place
.
Meggie
thought
she
must
always
have
known
,
once
she
did
.
She
had
grown
up
enough
to
realize
there
was
more
to
getting
babies
than
she
used
to
think
;
some
sort
of
physical
contact
absolutely
forbidden
between
any
but
a
married
couple
.
What
disgrace
and
humiliation
poor
Mum
must
have
gone
through
over
Frank
.
No
wonder
she
was
the
way
she
was
.
If
it
happened
to
her
,
Meggie
thought
,
she
would
want
to
die
.
In
books
only
the
lowest
,
cheapest
girls
had
babies
outside
of
marriage
;
yet
Mum
was
n't
cheap
,
could
never
have
been
cheap
.
With
all
her
heart
Meggie
wished
Mum
could
talk
to
her
about
it
,
or
that
she
herself
had
the
courage
to
bring
up
the
subject
.
Perhaps
in
some
small
way
she
might
have
been
able
to
help
.
But
Mum
was
n't
the
sort
of
person
one
could
approach
,
nor
would
Mum
do
the
approaching
.
Meggie
sighed
at
herself
in
the
mirror
,
and
hoped
nothing
like
that
ever
happened
to
her
.
Yet
she
was
young
;
at
times
like
this
,
staring
at
herself
in
the
ashes-of-roses
dress
,
she
wanted
to
feel
,
wanted
emotion
to
blow
over
her
like
a
strong
hot
wind
.
She
did
n't
want
to
plod
like
a
little
automaton
for
the
rest
of
her
life
,
she
wanted
change
and
vitality
and
love
.
Love
,
and
a
husband
,
and
babies
.
What
was
the
use
of
hungering
after
a
man
she
could
never
have
?
He
did
n't
want
her
,
he
never
would
want
her
.
He
said
he
loved
her
,
but
not
as
a
husband
would
love
her
.
Because
he
was
married
to
the
Church
.
Did
all
men
do
that
,
love
some
inanimate
thing
more
than
they
could
love
a
woman
?
No
,
surely
not
all
men
.
The
difficult
ones
,
perhaps
,
the
complex
ones
with
their
seas
of
doubts
and
objections
,
rationalities
.
But
there
had
to
be
simpler
men
,
men
who
could
surely
love
a
woman
before
all
else
.
Men
like
Luke
O'Neill
,
for
instance
.
