Margaret sat upright, and looked a little severe. It would never do even to look as if she had been asleep, in the middle of the afternoon. "No, Elizabeth," she said. "What is wanted?"
"Only miss, Frances was wishful to know whether she should keep Master Merton's dinner any longer, or whether she'd cook something fresh for him along with his supper."
No more dreaming for Margaret! She sprang to her feet, suddenly conscious of the fact that Merton had not been seen for several hours. It could not have been more than eleven o'clock when he was in her room; now— "What time is it, Elizabeth?"
"Going on five, Miss Margaret. Mr. Montfort'll soon be here, miss; maybe Master Merton might have gone to meet him."
Margaret shook her head; that did not seem at all likely. She hailed Basil, who came sauntering up the gravel walk, his brow still clouded, kicking the pebbles before him.
"Oh, Basil, have you seen Merton? He has not been in the house since this morning, and I am anxious about him."
Basil shrugged his shoulders. "Run away, most likely!" he said, carelessly. "He's always running away, Mert is."
"Always running away! But where could he run to, Basil? He does not know his way about here. He surely would not run away in a strange place."
Basil smiled superior. "That's just why he'd do it. He likes to find out new places; we both do. I wouldn't leave Susan D., or I'd have gone, too, bet I would. No use staying here, to be bossed round."
"Oh, Basil, don't talk so, but help me, like a dear boy, to find Merton."