He led her as he spoke into the conservatory, which opened from the drawing-room; and Margaret finding it easier to say nothing, than to trust her voice with a reply, suffered him to do as he pleased. He drew her hand through his arm, and led her slowly up and down.
"You must permit me to prescribe for you," said he gently, "for I think if there is anything that vexes you, you will feel less depressed in company than if you were to go up stairs and sit alone in your own room. For you have no companion—no—"
"No mother;" said Margaret, looking up into his face, with an expression of quiet sorrow that nearly upset all his plans; for had he then said all that he felt and hoped, he might have set out upon his travels the next morning.
"Are these your azalias?" said he, stopping before one of the stands, "they look very gay. Do you remember when you asked Mr. Grey for them; the first evening I came."
"Oh! do you recollect that, Mr. Haveloc!" said Margaret.
"I remember every particular of those few minutes you chose not to speak to me."
"Oh, Mr. Haveloc, you did not speak to me!" said Margaret, smiling, "and, of course, strangers could not have any thing to say to each other."
"Have you read the book upon Etruria?" said Mr. Haveloc.
"Yes—long ago."
"And you were interested by it?"