She sat heavily down in the vacant chair.

Her attitudes were uncouth and strong--a perpetual source of tribulation to the countess.

She sat with her elbow on her knee, staring into the fire.
"I did not mean to hate her; I did not want to," she said.

"If it had been you, I should not have hated you." Maggie's clear eyes wavered for a moment.

A faint color rose to her face.