Here a low growl that seemed hardly human, made both start violently. Margaret dropped Gessina. Mr. Haveloc turned sharply round.
"Ugh! little woman; are you going to give us tea to-night?" growled Mr. Casement.
"Oh, dear yes, Sir. I declare I did not know what time it was," said Margaret hastily.
"There is not the slightest hurry," said Mr. Haveloc detaining Margaret by the hand, "there can be no possible occasion for you to make tea before the usual time."
Margaret looked up in deprecation of his contemptuous tone. Mr. Casement turned to hobble back to the house.
"Ugh, sweethearts!" he grumbled, as he left them.
Margaret blushed crimson. Mr. Haveloc still holding her hand, walking slowly and silently in the same direction. At last, in that calm voice which in people of impatient temper always marks strong emotion, he said:—
"He is right Margaret—I love you!"
Margaret was excessively agitated—she trembled violently; but the transparent candour of her nature did not now desert her. In a faltering tone she replied: "I thought so."
"Come along, little woman," said Mr. Casement as Margaret stepped in at the window. "It is well I am come among you again. Poor uncle is laid on the shelf now; that's very plain."