"For Miss Gage," said Margaret with a faultering voice; and as she spoke, she pressed her hand on her side, and sat down suddenly.
Mr. Haveloc, who was standing at the piano arranging her books, now hurried up to her.
"I am afraid you are ill," he said, "do not think of playing. You are quite unequal to the exertion. Do you find the room too hot?"
"It is hot," said Margaret, who seemed on the verge of bursting into tears. "I think, I will go to my uncle, or, perhaps, I shall interrupt him. I—"
"Poor little soul, she has no mother!" said Mr. Casement, whose sagacity had discerned that something unusual occupied the minds of the party; and whose coarse nature was not so destitute of feeling, but that he saw how distressing must be the situation of a young girl, at any important crisis of her life, without the guidance of an experienced female friend.
This remark which Mr. Haveloc feared would entirely destroy her composure, had a contrary effect. After a struggle of a few moments, she forced back her tears, and rose quietly up.
"I cannot play to you to-night," said she to Mr. Casement with a smile, "for I have a head-ache, and I am afraid my hand would not be very steady. Perhaps, Mr. Haveloc, you will be so kind as to wish my uncle good night for me."
She bowed her head, and was about to leave the room, but Mr. Haveloc hastened after her.
"Let me beg you not to leave us," he said, "if you take a few turns in the conservatory where the air is cooler you will find yourself better."