`` Nillie ! '' exclaimed Mr. Malcolm MacPherson . There was such real agony in his tone that Peggy and I were suddenly stricken with contrition . What were we doing ? We had no right to be listening to this pitiful interview . The pain and protest in his voice had suddenly banished all the humour from it , and left naught but the bare , stark tragedy . We rose and tiptoed out of the room , wholesomely ashamed of ourselves . When Mr. Malcolm MacPherson had gone , after an hour of useless pleading , Aunt Olivia came up to us , pale and prim and determined , and told us that there was to be no wedding . We could not pretend surprise , but Peggy ventured a faint protest . `` Oh , Aunt Olivia , do you think you have done right ? '' `` 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 XXXXX a week .
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