“Forgive me,” returned the girl, hoarsely; and she took the work hardened hand and pressed it between both her own. “I will try to believe you, though I can not realize it that Margaret—my Margaret—has been jilted.”
“No, nor that either, dearie. We must not blame the poor young master beyond his deserts. He loved her true, Miss Crystal; he loved her that true that his heart was like to break; but for all that he was forced to give her up.”
“I can not understand it,” in a bewildered voice. “When I left the dear old home that summer’s day a year ago they had been engaged nine months; yes, it was nine months, I remember, for it was on her birthday that he asked her to be his wife, and they had loved each other long before that. Do you think I can ever forget that time?”
“I dare say not. Anyhow, things went on well for a time; the young master was always at the Grange, or Miss Margaret and Mr. Raby at the Hall; and when he was away, for he was always a bit roving, he wrote her a heap of letters; and all was as right as it could be till the old master came home.”
“Ah, true! I had forgotten Sir Wilfred.”
“Ay, he had been away for more than two years in the East, working for that fine book of his that folks talk about so much; but he was in bad health, and he had a strange hankering to die in the old Hall. There is an awful mystery in things, Miss Crystal; for if it had pleased Providence to have taken the poor old master before he reached the Hall, our dear Miss Margaret might have been happy now.”
“Do you mean that Sir Wilfred objected to the match?”
“Well, I don’t rightly know what happened, but Martin and me think there is some mystery at the bottom. Folks say, who know the young master, that he has a way of putting off things to the morrow as should be done to-day, and either ha did not tell his father of his engagement to Miss Margaret, or his letters went astray in those foreign parts; but when the old master heard that Mr. Hugh had promised to marry Miss Margaret, he made an awful scene, and swore that no Ferrers should be mistress of Redmond Hall.”
“Good Heavens! what reason could Sir Wilfred have for refusing his consent? Margaret was beautiful, rich, and well-born. Do you mean to say that Sir Hugh was so poor a creature as to give her up for a whim?”
“No, no, Miss Crystal, dear, we don’t understand the rights of it. When Mr. Hugh left the old master he just rushed up to the Grange to see Miss Margaret, and to tell her of his father’s opposition; but she had a right brave spirit of her own, and she heartened him up, and bade him wait patiently and she would win over the old man yet. Well, it is a sad story, and, as I told you, neither Martin nor me know what rightly happened. Sir Wilfred came up to talk to Miss Margaret, and then she sent for Mr. Hugh, and told him they must part, that she would never marry him. That was before the old master had that stroke that carried him off, but she held firm to it after his death, and nothing that Mr. Hugh could say would move her.”