"We must get him for Alphonse;" said Harriet musing, "he looks foreign; and he is graceful in his gestures. Then, if Margaret prefers Everard, what a chance for Miss Campbell. Lucy! Ah! stop the carriage! Thompson, a glass of water—there is a cottage—run—Miss Capel has fainted!"
CHAPTER XII.
Org. Time can never
On the white table of unguilty faith
Write counterfeit dishonour.
FORD.
"It was the heat, Harriet, indeed. Mrs. Fitzpatrick will tell you that I cannot bear hot weather," said Margaret earnestly.
"Mrs. Fitzpatrick is not in the room, ma mie," said Harriet, taking a chair just opposite to Margaret. "I certainly never knew such a heroine as you are. Going down to dinner after an obstinate fainting fit; divinely dressed, and looking like a very pale angel. Now I have said a generous thing, because I see your white dress is more prettily made than mine; but I make a great exertion and forgive you."
Margaret smiled.
"Well now, Margaret, what was it? This is the second time of asking. Beware of the third."
"I have told you, dear Harriet," said Margaret. "I was not well when I came. I felt wretchedly all yesterday, and Mrs. Fitzpatrick thought the journey had been too much for one day; she means to divide it when we go back."
"When you go back! That will not be while I am here, I can tell you," said Harriet. "Oh! I do wish Margaret that you were married. I hate single women!"