"To-morrow! So soon?" he said. "And you go back to London? I hope you will pay the Court another visit soon! I must speak to Mrs. Hale concerning it! Will you wait a moment or two?" and he drew a chair forward before he left the gallery.
Margaret sat and waited. How happy she had been! and yet if he only knew the cause of her happiness! If he could but guess that it was because she had won the love of his nephew, the Viscount Leyton.
She felt guilty and ill at ease, and when he returned, and approaching her with a smile, pressed some bank-notes into her hand, she began to tremble, and the tears rushed to her eyes.
"No thanks, my dear," he said. "Tut, tut! You must not wear your heart upon your sleeve, or daws will peck at it. You have no cause for gratitude; it is I who should and do feel grateful to you. Good-bye. May Heaven watch over you and make you happy, my dear!" It was almost like a benediction, for he half raised his white hand over her head.
When Margaret looked up he had gone.
She turned away, and the tears were still in her eyes as she opened the folded notes and looked at them. They represented a hundred pounds.
Mrs. Hale was quite overwhelmed.
"Well!" she exclaimed. "Gracious goodness!—a hundred pounds! Well, Margaret, my dear, I don't think you have any cause to regret your visit to your poor old grandmother. It hasn't been altogether a waste of time, now, has it?"
"No," said Margaret; "no, indeed, dear!" but even as she kissed the old lady and hid her face on her ample bosom, the same guilty feeling assailed her as that which had come upon her under the earl's generosity.
On the morrow she returned to London, but she had not to walk as she had done in coming. The earl had given orders that a brougham should be in attendance, and she started with a footman to open the door, and another to place her modest portmanteau on the roof, while the coachman touched his hat.