Margaret inclined her head gravely and rose. It was quite unnecessary to tell the Viscount Leyton that he was at liberty to step into a part of the garden that would belong to him some day.
"I'm awfully unlucky, Miss Hale," he said, flinging his cigar away and coming up to the seat where she had been sitting. "This is the second time to-day I have disturbed you; and yesterday—oh, yesterday won't bear thinking of! You were singing, weren't you?"
"Yes, my lord," said Margaret gravely, for her grandmother's words had suddenly occurred to her, and she moved away.
"Are you going?" he said. "Now, I have driven you away! Please, don't go. I'll take myself off at once."
"I was going, my lord," said Margaret.
"Oh, come," he retorted pleadingly; "it's almost as wicked to tell stories as it is to fight; and you know you were sitting here comfortably enough until I intruded upon you."
His voice, his manner were irresistible, and produced a smile on Margaret's face.
"It is getting late," she said, "and Mrs. Hale may want me."
"I don't think she will. It isn't late—" he looked at his watch—"I can't see. Your eyes are better than mine, I'll be bound. I've spoilt them sitting up studying at night. Will you look? But upon this condition," he added, covering the face of the watch with his hand, "that if it isn't ten o'clock, you will stay a little while longer; of course I'll go—if you want me to!"