`` It was the only thing I could do , '' said Aunt Olivia stonily . `` I could not marry Mr. Malcolm MacPherson and I told him so . Please tell your father -- and kindly say nothing more to me about the matter . '' Then Aunt Olivia went downstairs , got a broom , and swept up the mud Mr. Malcolm MacPherson had tracked over the steps . Peggy and I went home and told father . We felt very flat , but there was nothing to be done or said . Father laughed at the whole thing , but I could not laugh . I was sorry for Mr. Malcolm MacPherson and , though I was angry with her , I was sorry for Aunt Olivia , too . Plainly she felt badly enough over her vanished hopes and plans , but she had developed a strange and baffling reserve which nothing could pierce . `` It 's nothing but a chronic case of old-maidism , '' said father impatiently . Things were very dull for a week . We saw no more of Mr. Malcolm MacPherson and we missed him dreadfully . Aunt Olivia was inscrutable , and worked with fierceness at superfluous tasks . One evening father came home with some news . `` Malcolm MacPherson is leaving on the 7:30 train for the west , '' he said . `` He has rented the Avonlea place and he 's off . They say he is mad as a hatter at the trick Olivia played on him . '' After tea Peggy and I went over to see Aunt Olivia , who had asked our advice about a wrapper . She was sewing as for dear life , and her face was primmer and colder than ever . I wondered if she knew of Mr. Malcolm MacPherson 's departure .
Delicacy forbade me XXXXX mention it but Peggy had no such scruples .
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