"Presumption on my part, I am sure," said Sir Philip, smiling a little. "Such a thing will certainly not occur again."
"Oh please hear me," said Margaret, rather hurriedly. "Please listen seriously—I am very serious, and I want you to hear what I have to say."
"I will listen," said Sir Philip, gravely; he turned aside a little, and looked at the flowers as she spoke.
"I want to tell you that you were right about Janetta Colwyn. The more I have thought of it, the more sure I have been that you were right. I ought not to have been angry when you asked me to prevent people from misjudging her. I ought to have written to Miss Polehampton and set things straight."
Sir Philip made an inarticulate sound of assent. She paused for a moment, and then went on pleadingly.
"It's such a long time ago now that I do not know what to do. I cannot ask mamma. She never liked Janetta—she never was just to her. I do not even know where Janetta is, nor whether I can do anything to help her. Do you know?"
"I know where she is. At the Red House just now, with Mr. and Mrs. Cuthbert Brand."
"Then—what shall I do?" said Margaret, more urgently. "Would it be of any use if I wrote to Miss Polehampton or anyone about her now? I will do anything I can to help her—anything you advise."
Sir Philip changed his position, as if he were slightly impatient.
"I do not know that there is anything to be done for Miss Colwyn at present," he replied. "She is in a very good position, and I do not think she wants material help. Of course, if you were to see her and tell her that you regret the manifest injustice with which she was treated on more than one occasion, I dare say she would be glad, and that such an acknowledgment from you would draw out the sting from much that is past and gone. I think that this is all you can do."