"Well, and how are they all?" said Mr. Grey.
Margaret, standing with her back to Mr. Haveloc, and her hand in Mr. Grey's, felt her courage somewhat restored. "I dare say they are all very well, Sir," she said in a low voice: "but oh! I wish you had heard Miss Gage sing, Sir, and play on the harp; and she has such a nice sitting-room of her own, Sir, and so many books! She is going to lend me one about Etruria. Elizabeth wore such a beautiful nosegay, Sir, of azaleas—sweet smelling ones. May Richard get me some azalias?"
"Yes, my love, that he shall—to-morrow," said Mr. Grey. "And what did you talk about?"
"Oh! most about Etruria. I wish Miss Gage had told me some more curious things. I think she knows more about it than Mr. Warde. He told me if he met with some things in Livy, he would mark them and read them to me; I wish he would. Look, Sir, I cannot think how this stain came on my glove. Oh! I recollect: I was gathering myrtle in the green-house just before I went."
"What a little bit of a hand it is," said Mr. Grey, "are you sleepy, my child?"
"A little, Sir. Mr. Warde said he would teach me Latin, if I wished to learn it, but I think I had better leave it alone till I know more of other things."
"Oh, my child! don't learn Latin whatever you do," said Mr. Grey, "it really will—quite wrinkle her, won't it, Claude?"
Mr. Haveloc gave a short laugh, and Margaret recollected that he was in the room, and grew uncomfortable again.
"Elizabeth never plays in company, do you know," said she, after a short pause, "Is not that odd? Oh dear, Sir, what a dreadful thing it is to have only one arm!"
"Why, my child, Elizabeth Gage has—oh true! she is thinking of the father—yes, very awkward indeed!"