"So I remember; it was the first thing almost that I heard of him," said Margaret.
"Shall we dress, pet?" asked Harriet, fondly passing her arm round Margaret's waist; "we can come down and have a gossip before the people collect for dinner."
Margaret assented, and Harriet left the room with Lady Raymond.
Margaret stood for a few minutes leaning against the window, trying to compose herself, or to appear composed. "Shall I never be wise or womanly?" she asked herself, "shall I never bear to hear his name mentioned without such a pang as I now feel? Is this, as one sometimes reads, to embitter my whole life—this wretched mistake? It is too severe a penalty for my folly! How can I meet him calmly, if I am thus agitated by the very narrative of circumstances that I have long known, and long made up my mind to forget?"
But as thinking did not seem likely to make matters better, Margaret roused herself, and went up stairs to dress. She was quite startled to find Mrs. Fitzpatrick in her room, in her black velvet, ready for dinner.
"I am late—am I not?" said she, coming up to her chair, and taking her hand.
"Not early, my dear, but you will find time enough, you are always so rapid."
Mason set to work directly; Mrs. Fitzpatrick sat beside the toilet, talking.
At last, Margaret, who had scarcely replied, turned her head round, and said, "How long do we stay here?"
"How long, my dear? Why, we have but just arrived," said her friend with a smile.