“You look disturbed!” says Colonel Neilson.

He is, as I have said, a tall man, with a kindly face, and deep eyes of a dark colour.  There is nothing very special about him; he is not, strictly speaking, handsome, yet he was, last season, one of the most popular men in town.

“Yes, and no,” says Margaret.  “My cousin has confided a sort of secret to me.”

“A secret!  I may not hear it, then?”

“Well, I don’t know.  It is, as I have hinted, a sort of secret, not very much to be kept.”

“I may hear it, then?”

“I suppose so.  At all events,” with a laugh, soft and silk, “I should like you to hear it, because I want your opinion.  You will give it?”

“You know I will give you everything I have,” says he.

“Oh no! you must not talk like that,” says she.  “Put all that on one side, and let me have you for my friend.  I want one now—­not for myself, but for another; for two others, in fact.  You know how fond I am of Maurice, and lately I have contracted quite a romantic, for me"—­she pauses and laughs—­“well, quite a romantic affection, for a little girl staying here with my aunt.  You know who I mean—­Tita Bolton.”

“A charming child?”

“I am so glad you like her!  But, as you say, she is a mere child; and Maurice has proposed to her, and she has accepted him, and I am curious about her future.”

“Hers only?”

“Oh no!  His, too!”

“It will be a risk, certainly,” says Colonel Neilson.  “I thought—­I imagined—­I had heard that Rylton was engaged to his cousin, Mrs. Bethune—­a very beautiful woman.”

“How can you think so!” says Margaret.  “Well, yes, no doubt she is beautiful, but I should not like Maurice to marry her.”

“You would prefer his marrying the ’charming child’?”

“I don’t know what I prefer,” says Miss Knollys.  She casts a reproachful glance at him that certainly is not deserved.  Has he not served her late and early for the past six years?  “I thought you would help me!”

“You know I shall do that, however things may turn.”

“Well, help me here.  What ought Maurice to do?  I am so dreadfully unhappy about this projected marriage of his.”

“It seems to me you are unhappy about all things except those that concern yourself.  Your own future seems a blank to you; is it not so?”

Miss Knollys makes a little movement.

“Why should it be always a blank?” says he.  “Margaret,” in a low tone, “let me fill it!”

Margaret rises impatiently.

“After all, you can’t help me,” says she, turning abruptly away.

“Margaret, hear me!”

“No, no, no!  What is the use?”

She goes slowly down the hall.

CHAPTER XI.

HOW THE LAST DAY COMES, AND HOW SOME STRANGE WORDS ARE SAID BEFORE THE MARRIAGE IS ACCOMPLISHED; AND HOW MARION BETHUNE SCORES A POINT.