"He is," said Margaret.
"Why then it is Claude Haveloc!" said Hubert, leaning against the side of the porch.
Margaret was silent. He remained standing, apparently much disturbed.
"And you are engaged to Claude Haveloc?" said he, throwing himself on the seat beside her.
Her colour mounted; but she made a gesture of assent. He remained for some moments apparently undecided as to what he should say or do; and then looking up suddenly, took her hand.
"Forget me if you will," he said; "but never give a thought to him again."
"Mr. Hubert!" said Margaret, colouring with anger.
"He is entirely unworthy of you; it is the talk of the village beyond you there; he is paying his addresses to a young lady who is dying of a consumption. But his attentions for weeks have been too marked to admit of a doubt. He is pitied and praised by every one. He is daily and all day at the house."
"Well that can be explained. I will ask him," said Margaret, trying to speak calmly.
"You can do better than ask him. You can see and judge for yourself. Walk past the house at any hour, and find him, as I saw him, at the feet of your rival."