"I don't know any, Sir," returned Margaret.
"I thought Hubert Gage was a sailor?" said Mr. Grey.
"Right as my glove," said Mr. Casement, "so he is, I forgot. I hate the Gages. George Gage drew a caricature of me; and Everard used to take me off to my face; and Hubert, he used to bolt out of my way as if I was poison. I have known him jump out of the parlour window as I came in at the door."
Margaret found nothing singular in the conduct of the young Gages, she only wondered what a caricature of Mr. Casement could be like.
"The only one of the family worth any thing is Elizabeth. I mean Elizabeth for my second," said Mr. Casement.
This remark let Margaret into the secret that he had one wife to begin with, a thing she would otherwise have thought impossible.
"Though I don't know, now I have seen you," he said turning to Margaret.
"Casement, be quiet; you shall not teaze my child," said Mr. Grey, drawing Margaret towards him as he marked the angry flush again rise to her brow.
Neither of them were prepared for what followed—she burst into a passion of tears.
Mr. Grey passed his hand over her hair, and pressed her closer to him. Mr. Casement was confused.