'That is it,' said Margaret. 'It seems so selfish in me to regret
it,' trying to smile, 'and yet he is lost to me, and I am so
lonely.'
Mr. Lennox turned over his papers, and wished that he
were as rich and prosperous as he believed he should be some day.
Mr. Bell blew his nose, but, otherwise, he also kept silence; and
Margaret, in a minute or two, had apparently recovered her usual
composure. She thanked Mr. Lennox very courteously for his
trouble; all the more courteously and graciously because she was
conscious that, by her behaviour, he might have probably been led
to imagine that he had given her needless pain. Yet it was pain
she would not have been without.
Mr. Bell came up to wish her good-bye.
'Margaret!' said he, as he fumbled with his gloves. 'I am going
down to Helstone to-morrow, to look at the old place. Would you
like to come with me? Or would it give you too much pain? Speak
out, don't be afraid.' 'Oh, Mr. Bell,' said she--and could say no more. But she took his
old gouty hand, and kissed it.
'Come, come; that's enough,' said he, reddening with awkwardness.
'I suppose your aunt Shaw will trust you with me. We'll go
to-morrow morning, and we shall get there about two o'clock, I
fancy. We'll take a snack, and order dinner at the little
inn--the Lennard Arms, it used to be,--and go and get an appetite
in the forest. Can you stand it, Margaret? It will be a trial, I
know, to both of us, but it will be a pleasure to me, at least.
And there we'll dine--it will be but doe-venison, if we can get
it at all--and then I'll take my nap while you go out and see old
friends. I'll give you back safe and sound, barring railway
accidents, and I'll insure your life for a thousand pounds before
starting, which may be some comfort to your relations; but
otherwise, I'll bring you back to Mrs. Shaw by lunch-time on
Friday. So, if you say yes, I'll just go up-stairs and propose
it.' 'It's no use my trying to say how much I shall like it,' said
Margaret, through her tears.
'Well, then, prove your gratitude by keeping those fountains of
yours dry for the next two days. If you don't, I shall feel queer
myself about the lachrymal ducts, and I don't like that.' 'I won't cry a drop,' said Margaret, winking her eyes to shake
the tears off her eye-lashes, and forcing a smile.