"Certainly, for the present," replied Margaret, who did not weep, but spoke in a singularly gentle voice.
"And I, too, for to-night, with my best thanks," added Ned, who had not been invited, but whom my mother preferred not to refuse.
Noah brought in the cloak, and placed it around Madge with an unusual attentiveness, prolonging the slight service to its utmost possible length, and keeping an eye for any sign of relenting on the part of his master.
My mother and I stood waiting for Margaret, while Mrs. Faringfield and Fanny weepingly embraced her. That done, and with a good-night for Tom and Mr. Cornelius, but not a word or a look for her father, who stood as silent and motionless as marble, she laid her hand softly upon my arm, and we went forth, leaving my mother to the unwelcome escort of Ned. The door closed upon us four—'twas the last time it ever closed upon one of us—and in a few seconds we were at our steps. And who should come along at that moment, on his way to his quarters, but Captain Falconer? He stopped, in pleased surprise, and, peering at our faces in the darkness, asked in his gay, good-natured way what fun was afoot.
"Not much fun," said Margaret. "I have just left my father's house, at his command."
He stood in a kind of daze. As it was very cold, we bade him good night, and went in. Reopening the door, and looking out, I saw him proceeding homeward, his head averted in a meditative attitude. I knew not till the next day what occurred when he arrived in the Faringfield hall.
"Sir," said Tom Faringfield, stepping forth from where he had been leaning against the stair-post, "I must speak low, because my parents and sister are in the parlour there, and I don't wish them to hear—"
"With all my heart," replied Falconer. "Won't you come into my room, and have a glass of wine?"
"No, sir. If I had a glass of wine, I should only waste it by throwing it in your face. All I have to say is, that you are a scoundrel, and I desire an opportunity to kill you as soon as may be—"
"Tut, tut, my dear lad—"