Here Margaret who was reclining languidly in an arm-chair, began to cry, by stealth as it were, wiping her eyes quietly with her handkerchief.
"Oh! my dear, your spirits are wretched," cried Blanche. "You have no idea how it distresses me to see you. You really ought to go out and amuse yourself; we have all our troubles, I assure you. I sometimes find it very difficult to bear up."
"Yes; I should be selfish, indeed, if I thought myself the only person afflicted," said Margaret. "I am very sorry to hear that you have any immediate cause of distress."
Here Mr. Warde appeared at the doorway; he made a sign to Blanche, and after a few whispered words, that young lady nodded, and went up stairs. Mr. Warde then came up to Margaret, and took a chair by her side.
"My dear," he said, "Mr. Haveloc wishes to see you."
Margaret's heart beat so wildly that she could hardly breathe.
"I thought, as he was an intimate friend of your uncle, I had better prepare you for his visit," said Mr. Warde. "I feared you would be agitated if he came in without being announced."
"Must I see him?" asked Margaret, as soon as she could utter a word.
"Certainly not, if you feel the effort would be too great," said Mr. Warde. "He seemed very anxious to pay his respects to you, before leaving the place. I understand it is his intention to go abroad for some years: and I suppose having met you frequently at your uncle's, he did not wish to quit the country without taking leave of you. But do not, on any account, exert yourself. I will take him a message, if you feel in the least degree unequal to seeing him."
Margaret laid her hand on Mr. Warde's arm as if to detain him. Everything seemed whirling round; she could not hear distinctly his last words; there was a noise and giddiness in her brain. Going abroad! So then all was over; he was as determined as herself to cancel their engagement. She should have liked a little reluctance, a little hesitation; perhaps a little entreaty. But this was well. She could be proud now—no weakness.