Margaret’s ecstasy of hope was scarcely controllable. For her sister’s sake she hung her head upon her bosom, the better to conceal her joy. It was a bitter moment for him who could not but note and rightly interpret the change in her countenance and manner.
“I wish to know, if you have no objection to tell me, whether your sister is disengaged.”
“I have no objection to say,” declared Margaret, looking up cheerfully, “that my sister is not engaged.”
“That is the information I wished for. Now for the opinion which I venture to ask of you, as of the one to whom your sister’s mind is best known. Do you believe that, if I attempt it, I am likely to win her?”
Margaret was silent. It was difficult to answer the question with perfect truth, and with due consideration to her sister.
“I see,” said Hope, “that you do not approve my question: nor do I myself. Rather tell me whether you suppose that she prefers any one to me,—that she had rather I should not seek her,—whether, in short, you would advise me to withdraw.”
“By no means,” said Margaret. “I cannot say anything tending to deter you. I know of nothing which need discourage you; and I assure you, you have my best wishes that you may succeed.”
She looked at him with the bright expression of sincerity and regard which had touched his heart oftener and more deeply than all Hester’s beauty. He could not have offered to shake hands at the moment; but she held out hers, and he could not but take it. The door burst open at the same instant, and Mr Enderby entered. Both let drop the hand they held, and looked extremely awkward and grave. A single glance was enough to send Mr Enderby away, without having spoken his errand, which was to summon Margaret to the orchard, for the final shake of the apple-tree. When he was gone, each saw that the face of the other was crimson: but while Hope had a look of distress which Margaret wondered at, remembering how soon Mr Enderby would understand the nature of the interview, she was struggling to restrain a laugh.
“Thank you for your truth,” said Mr Hope. “I knew I might depend upon it from you.”
“I have told you all I can,” said Margaret rising; “and it will be best to say no more at present. It is due to my sister to close our conversation here. If she should choose,” continued she, gaily, “to give us leave to renew it hereafter, I shall have a great deal to say to you on my own part. You have done me the honour of calling me ‘friend.’ You have my friendship, I assure you, and my good wishes.”