"You will spoil that nice penknife, I am afraid."
"That is not of the slightest consequence," said he laughing, "particularly as it is not my property."
"Then you mean to say that if it was yours—"
"I should feel double pleasure in sacrificing it of course. Dinner already! Now you must take my arm, you see. I have not quite finished the arrangement of your flowers. It is certainly a beautiful bouquet. I hardly know which to admire most, the flowers or the bouquetiére. Quite new this sort of thing—is it not?"
Every body was rising and pairing off—Hubert Gage, with Blanche on his arm, sauntered past Margaret, arranging the bouquet as he walked along.
Margaret looked after him with some surprise; his attendance had been a thing that she was so certain of late to meet with, that she could scarcely comprehend his transferring it to somebody else. There was a little mortification in her mind for a minute, for no one likes to be robbed of an admirer, however willing she may be to give him up. But she understood it in a moment. Love hangs on such a slender thread with every one, that she could never, and did never regard Hubert Gage with a warmer interest than what might belong to a pleasant acquaintance. She was too romantic, too exacting in her ideas of love to suppose, for a moment, that a man who once entertained a serious thought of her could be engrossed in her presence by another woman.
Mr. Haveloc was at her side almost as soon as Hubert passed, and she felt grateful for the attention. It prevented the awkwardness of seeming to wait till some one was desired to take her in to dinner.
Just as all the company were arranging themselves round the table, George Gage clattered into the room exactly as he came off his journey, not appearing to have thought it worth while to undergo the trouble of dressing for dinner. He noticed two or three people at table, found a vacant chair just opposite to Margaret, and seeing a new and beautiful face, glared at her over his soup-plate without remorse.
Certainly there was a great contrast between the two brothers. Whereas Hubert endeavoured, for no earthly motive, to efface all traces of his profession from his dress and language, George Gage, with as little show of reason, seemed never for a moment to forget his calling.