“Oh, sir! Margaret is indeed in correspondence with some unknown man, whose very name I never heard in all my life before! She does all she can to keep the affair secret, and she thinks she keeps it so; but poor thing, having very little art, she cannot succeed in concealing the fact that she sends off these mysterious letters about once a month.”
“And do you not expostulate with her?” inquired the deeply-shocked minister.
“Oh, I did at first, sir, but I made no more impression upon her than if she had been a marble statue of Firmness. She would not tell me who her correspondent was, where he was, what he was, what was the nature of the acquaintance between them; in short, she would tell me nothing about him.”
“And can neither Colonel nor Mrs. Compton, nor your husband, impress her with the impropriety of this proceeding?”
“Oh, sir, they know nothing about it. No one in this house knows anything about Margaret’s conduct but myself. And the rumor you have just brought me has never reached them, I am sure.”
“Suppose you let me talk with my young friend. She means well, I am sure.”
“Well, sir, you shall have the opportunity you desire. But—excuse me for quoting for your benefit a homely adage—‘Trot sire, trot dam, and the colt will never pace!’ Margaret Helmstedt takes stubbornness from both parents, and may be supposed to have a double allowance,” said Mrs. Houston, putting her hand to the bell cord.
A servant appeared.
“Let Miss Helmstedt know that Mr. Wellworth desires to see her,” said Mrs. Houston.
The messenger withdrew, and soon returned with the answer that Miss Helmstedt would be glad to receive Mr. Wellworth in her own sitting-room.