"You can't do it, Meg. To begin with, if the Baron----"
"Baron Drummuir, sir, will have nothing to say to it," interrupted the little minister once more. "The Honourable Margaret Muir is of age, and if she chooses to marry a man of birth equal to her own--I do not care to boast of my ancestry, sir, but Bryce and Bruce are the same, and my family tree shows Robert of Scotland to be my immediate ancestor--she is at liberty to do so."
"That is for Lord Drummuir to decide," said Marmaduke grimly. "Of course, I shall tell him, Meg, what I've seen."
Margaret clasped her hands in entreaty.
"Oh, please, don't, Duke--please, please!"
"Margaret," interrupted the minister sharply, "oblige me by not entreating your brother to silence. Let him speak if he chooses. We are not ashamed of ourselves."
All this time Mdlle. Le Grand had been watching the scene with her sharp eyes, and her acute little brain had been working out any advantage to herself. Now she saw her way and slipped forward with a smile.
"My dear Marmaduke," she said, as the two men stood glaring at each other, "live and let live is a valuable motto. You must remember that Margaret can also tell on us. Silence on both sides is the best way out of the difficulty. Don't you think so, Miss Muir?"
Margaret gave a frightened look at her brother.
"Ah, Duke," she cried, "you don't mean to say you----"