'I thought you knew. I never doubted you had been told. Of
course, it was a great secret, and perhaps I should not have
named it now,' said Margaret, a little dismayed.
'I have never named it to either my brother or your cousin,' said
Mr. Lennox, with a little professional dryness of implied
reproach.
'Never mind, Margaret. I am not living in a talking, babbling
world, nor yet among people who are trying to worm facts out of
me; you needn't look so frightened because you have let the cat
out of the bag to a faithful old hermit like me. I shall never
name his having been in England; I shall be out of temptation,
for no one will ask me. Stay!' (interrupting himself rather
abruptly) 'was it at your mother's funeral?' 'He was with mamma when she died,' said Margaret, softly.
'To be sure! To be sure! Why, some one asked me if he had not
been over then, and I denied it stoutly--not many weeks ago--who
could it have been? Oh! I recollect!' But he did not say the name; and although Margaret would have
given much to know if her suspicions were right, and it had been
Mr. Thornton who had made the enquiry, she could not ask the
question of Mr. Bell, much as she longed to do so.
There was a pause for a moment or two. Then Mr. Lennox said,
addressing himself to Margaret, 'I suppose as Mr. Bell is now
acquainted with all the circumstances attending your brother's
unfortunate dilemma, I cannot do better than inform him exactly
how the research into the evidence we once hoped to produce in
his favour stands at present. So, if he will do me the honour to
breakfast with me to-morrow, we will go over the names of these
missing gentry.' 'I should like to hear all the particulars, if I may. Cannot you
come here? I dare not ask you both to breakfast, though I am sure
you would be welcome. But let me know all I can about Frederick,
even though there may be no hope at present.' 'I have an engagement at half-past eleven. But I will certainly
come if you wish it,' replied Mr. Lennox, with a little
afterthought of extreme willingness, which made Margaret shrink
into herself, and almost wish that she had not proposed her
natural request. Mr. Bell got up and looked around him for his
hat, which had been removed to make room for tea.
'Well!' said he, 'I don't know what Mr. Lennox is inclined to do,
but I'm disposed to be moving off homewards. I've been a journey
to-day, and journeys begin to tell upon my sixty and odd years.' 'I believe I shall stay and see my brother and sister,' said Mr.
Lennox, making no movement of departure. Margaret was seized with
a shy awkward dread of being left alone with him. The scene on
the little terrace in the Helstone garden was so present to her,
that she could hardly help believing it was so with him.