Mr. Montfort looked alarmed, but pleased. Rita went on, glowing with enthusiasm.
"It was perfectly conceived, perfectly carried out! Ah, why were you not on my side? Together, you and I, we could have done—everything!"
"You did not ask me, my dear!" said Mr. Montfort dryly. There was that in his look that made Rita blush at last. But in her present mood she could bear anything.
"I beg again your pardon!" she cried. "Uncle, this time I beg for my own self pardon, of my own will. I was bad, wicked, abominable! Marguerite was right; she is always right! I kneel to you in penitence!"
And she would have knelt down, then and there, if her uncle had not stopped her hastily and positively.
"Give me a kiss instead, my dear!" he said. "We have had heroics enough for one day, and we must come down to plain common sense. Rita, Peggy, Margaret,—my three Margaret Montforts,—I wish and mean to love you all." He stooped and kissed each girl on the forehead; but he lingered by Margaret's side, and laid his hand on her hair with a silent gesture which held a blessing in it.
"Margaret, you must rest now!" he said with kind authority. "Rita, we have left your brother and cousin too long alone. Come with me, and let us see what we can do to make them forget their untoward introduction to Fernley House."