"Oh, John!" said Margaret.
"You have no right to scold him yet," said Mrs Mackenzie.
Margaret, when she heard this, blushed up to her forehead, and in her confusion forgot all about the paper-knife and the money. Sir John, I fancy, was almost as much confused himself, and was quite unable to make any fitting reply. But, just at that moment, there came across two harpies from the realms of Mrs Chaucer Munro, eagerly intent upon their prey.
"Here are the lion and the lamb together," said one harpy. "The lion must buy a rose to give to the lamb. Sir Lion, the rose is but a poor half-crown." And she tendered him a battered flower, leering at him from beneath her draggled, dusty bonnet as she put forth her untempting hand for the money.
"Sir Lion, Sir Lion," said the other harpy, "I want your name for a raffle."
But the lion was off, having pushed the first harpy aside somewhat rudely. That tale of the Lion and the Lamb had been very terrible to him; but never till this occasion had any one dared to speak of it directly to his face. But what will not a harpy do who has become wild and dirty and disgusting in the pursuit of half-crowns?
"Now he is angry," said Margaret. "Oh, Mrs Mackenzie, why did you say that?"
"Yes; he is angry," said Mrs Mackenzie, "but not with you or me. Upon my word, I thought he would have pushed that girl over; and if he had, he would only have served her right."
"But why did you say that? You shouldn't have said it."
"About your not scolding him yet? I said it, my dear, because I wanted to make myself certain. I was almost certain before, but now I am quite certain."