"Mr. Grey has so many good qualities," said Mr. Haveloc, "that he makes over a few, in imagination, to his neighbours. That is the only way I can account for such an assertion on his part."
Margaret looked up and laughed at this remark. She had a charming child-like laugh.
"Perhaps;" said she, after a short pause, "perhaps, in time, he will leave off teazing me."
"Never!" returned Mr. Haveloc, "never while he has breath."
"Then it can't be helped," said Margaret, with a sigh. "But there is one comfort, my dear uncle always takes my part."
"Who would not?" muttered Mr. Haveloc.
Margaret did not laugh at this remark. She blushed instead, and busied herself very earnestly with the beads on her silk.
"You are about something very pretty!" said Mr. Haveloc, bending over her work.
"It is a great deal of trouble," said Margaret, "but it will look very well when it is done. It is a purse with beads."
"I am afraid I shall not see it finished," said Mr. Haveloc. "It will be done, and sent off long before I come back."