Tears burst from the eyes of the quiet companion, and rushed in a volcanic shower down her cheeks, as she answered,
"I am Margaret Walsingham."
"You!" exclaimed my lady, after a stare of unutterable astonishment.
"My darling Lady Julie!" cried Margaret, catching my lady's hands and holding them in her own. "I am that unfortunate, that wretched protegee of Mrs. Brand's unwise affection; but never think that I would accept the Brand estates when obtained in such a way, or that I would willingly defraud St. Udo Brand. I thank Heaven that these hands," proudly holding them out, "are yet unsullied by such sin."
"How is it that you are here under the name of Blair."
"I left Castle Brand to win my bread, and did not wish to be traced."
"How strange! Then the fortune will doubtless revert to the rightful heir if you are sincere in refusing it?"
"I fear not. The executors will hold it for one year: and if by that time Captain Brand and I," with a bitter tide of crimson in her face, "have failed to fulfil the conditions of the will—that is, to get married—and I still refuse the property, Seven Oak Waaste will probably go into chancery."
Lady Julie gave a cry as if after the vanishing estates, and covered her face with her hands, petulantly weeping.
"Then I am done with St. Udo," she cried. "What do I want of a man who is stripped of his position?"