"I cannot think that experience will ever make you judge hardly of others," said Mr. Gage in a soft voice to Margaret.
"Experience will tell her that to judge truly, is to judge hardly in five cases out of ten," said Harriet disdainfully.
"Luncheon is ready," exclaimed Hubert, taking Margaret's hand and hurrying her out of the room, "and a good thing too, for our discussion was growing rather stormy; and I have no objection to interrupt my courtier of a brother in his pretty speeches."
Margaret laughed as she took her seat at the table, and said she thought that pretty speeches ran in the family. She felt now perfectly at her ease with both brothers; feeling convinced that George was still attached to Harriet Conway, and that Hubert did not know what it was to be attached to any body.
"Oh, by the way!" said Hubert, as he drew a chair beside Margaret, "Haveloc would go off after breakfast. He made many inquiries about you, and was very sorry, as everybody was, last night. Bread! to be sure, I beg you a thousand pardons. Now don't starve; it is dreadful to see women eat so little, it reminds me of that story,—did you ever read the Arabian Nights?"
"Often," said Margaret, "you mean the story of the Ghoul. I do not mean to be a Ghoul to-day; you may give me some chicken."
"That's right," said Hubert. "Hallo! here is the Governor with that old wretch, Casement. How I wish Haveloc was here; he hates the old fellow so cordially. Don't you?"
"I am glad he is away," said Margaret, "for they always quarrel."
"You are an angel of peace," exclaimed Hubert, gazing at her with admiration.
"Pray don't be sentimental at luncheon," said Margaret, laughing, "it is so very inappropriate."