Dear Margaret, if he would like to

accompany you and Aunt Hale, we will try and make it pleasant,

though I'm rather afraid of any one who has done something for

conscience sake. You never did, I hope. Tell Aunt Hale not to

bring many warm clothes, though I'm afraid it will be late in the

year before you can come. But you have no idea of the heat here!

I tried to wear my great beauty Indian shawl at a pic-nic. I kept

myself up with proverbs as long as I could; "Pride must

abide,"--and such wholesome pieces of pith; but it was of no use.

I was like mamma's little dog Tiny with an elephant's trappings

on; smothered, hidden, killed with my finery; so I made it into a

capital carpet for us all to sit down upon. Here's this boy of

mine, Margaret,--if you don't pack up your things as soon as you

get this letter, a come straight off to see him, I shall think

you're descended from King Herod!'

Margaret did long for a day of Edith's life--her freedom from

care, her cheerful home, her sunny skies. If a wish could have

transported her, she would have gone off; just for one day. She

yearned for the strength which such a change would give,--even

for a few hours to be in the midst of that bright life, and to

feel young again. Not yet twenty! and she had had to bear up

against such hard pressure that she felt quite old. That was her

first feeling after reading Edith's letter. Then she read it

again, and, forgetting herself, was amused at its likeness to

Edith's self, and was laughing merrily over it when Mrs. Hale

came into the drawing-room, leaning on Dixon's arm. Margaret flew

to adjust the pillows. Her mother seemed more than usually

feeble.

'What were you laughing at, Margaret?' asked she, as soon as she

had recovered from the exertion of settling herself on the sofa.

'A letter I have had this morning from Edith. Shall I read it

you, mamma?' She read it aloud, and for a time it seemed to interest her

mother, who kept wondering what name Edith had given to her boy,

and suggesting all probable names, and all possible reasons why

each and all of these names should be given. Into the very midst

of these wonders Mr. Thornton came, bringing another offering of

fruit for Mrs. Hale. He could not--say rather, he would not--deny

himself the chance of the pleasure of seeing Margaret. He had no

end in this but the present gratification. It was the sturdy

wilfulness of a man usually most reasonable and self-controlled.

He entered the room, taking in at a glance the fact of Margaret's

presence; but after the first cold distant bow, he never seemed

to let his eyes fall on her again. He only stayed to present his

peaches--to speak some gentle kindly words--and then his cold

offended eyes met Margaret's with a grave farewell, as he left

the room. She sat down silent and pale.




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