HOW THE ARGUMENT GROWS HIGHER; AND HOW MARIAN LOSES HER TEMPER, AND HOW MARGARET OBJECTS TO THE RUIN OF ONE YOUNG LIFE.
"She is insufferable—intolerable!" says Lady Rylton, almost hysterically. She is sitting in the drawing-room with Margaret and Mrs. Bethune, near one of the windows that overlook the tennis court. The guests of the afternoon have gone; only the house-party remains, and still, in the dying daylight, the tennis balls are being tossed to and fro. Tita's little form may be seen darting from side to side; she is playing again with Sir Maurice.
"She is a very young girl, who has been brought up without a mother's care," says Miss Knollys, who has taken a fancy to the poor hoyden, and would defend her.
"Her manners this afternoon!—her actions—her fatal admissions!" says Lady Rylton, who has not forgiven that word or two about the sugar merchant.
"She spoke only naturally. She saw no reason why she should not speak of——"
"Don't be absurd, Margaret!" Sharply. "You know, as well as I do, that she is detestable."
"I am quite glad you have formed that idea of her," says Miss Knollys, "as it leads me to hope you do not now desire to marry her to Maurice."
After all, there are, perhaps, moments when Margaret is not as perfect as one believes her. She can't, for example, resist this thrust.
"Decidedly I don't _desire _to marry her to Maurice," says Lady Rylton angrily. "I have told you that often enough, I think; but for all that Maurice must marry her. It is his last chance!"
"Tessie," says Margaret sharply, "if you persist in this matter, and bring it to the conclusion you have in view, do you know what will happen? You will make your only child miserable! I warn you of that." Miss Knollys' voice is almost solemn.