Mr. Fullbloom coughed and Meg turned her head. She caught the amused glance of her traveling companion fixed upon her. The solicitor had been dividing his attention between his paper and the child by his side. Meg had been unconscious of his investigation.
"Reach the school soon now," said the lawyer with his accustomed airy nod.
"I am glad of it," replied Meg.
"Want to be a learned little lady, eh?"
"Yes, that is just what I want to be," Meg answered in an eager tone; "learned as a lady."
"Well, so you will be—excellent school that of Miss Reeves—learn to dance, play the piano, to speak French, German—any amount of accomplishments. Bless me, there will be no talking to you in a year or two. Have to study hard, though."
Meg nodded in token of her readiness to face any amount of study.
"Don't forget your name—Beecham—it is not Browne. Madam was not your mother, or for the matter of that any relation," said the lawyer.
"I knew she was not my mother," said Meg in a low voice.
"No, indeed; light and darkness could not be more unlike."