noon
Madelon looked better than her rival that morning . Dorothy sat , as usual , daintily clad in her Sabbath silks and swan 's - downs , with a sweet atmosphere as of a flower around her ; but her delicate color had faded , and her blue eyes looked as if she had been weeping and had not slept . She never glanced once at Eugene Hautville up in the singing-seats ; but sometimes he looked at her , and then her face quivered under his eyes . That noon Lot Gordon sent again for Madelon , but this time she refused to go . `` Tell him I am busy and ca n't come , '' she told Margaret Bean 's husband , who had brought the note . The old man went off , muttering over her message to himself lest he forget it . She heard him repeating it in a childish sing-song -- `` Tell him I 'm busy and ca n't come ; tell him I 'm busy and ca n't come '' -- as he went out of the yard , slanting his old body before the south wind .