d to him.

"John," she said, "is that you?"

She spoke almost in a whisper, but, nevertheless, he heard her very
clearly, and at once turned towards her room.

"Come in, John," she said, opening the door wider. "I wish to speak
to you. I have been waiting till you should come up."

She had taken off her dress, and had put on in place of it a white
dressing-gown; but of this she had not thought till he was already
within the room. "I hope you won't mind finding me like this, but I
did so want to speak to you to-night."

He, as he looked at her, felt that he had no objection to make to her
appearance. If that had been his only trouble concerning her he would
have been well satisfied. When he was within the room, she closed the
lock of the door very softly, and then began to question him.

"Tell me," she said, "what my aunt has been saying to you about that
man that came here to-day."

He did not answer her at once, but stood leaning against the bed.

"I know she has been telling you," continued Margaret. "I know she
would not let you go to bed without accusing me. Tell me, John, what
she has told you."

He was very slow to speak. As he had sat listening to his mother's
energetic accusation against the woman he had promised to marry,
hearing her bring up argument after argument to prove that Margaret
had, in fact, been engaged to that clergyman,--that she had intended
to marry that man while she had money, and had not, up to that day,
made him fully understand that she would not do so,--he had himself
said little or nothing, claiming to himself the use of that night
for consideration. The circumstances against Margaret he owned to
be very strong. He felt angry with her for having had any lover at
Littlebath. It was but the other day, during her winter visit to
the Cedars, that he had himself proposed to her, and that she had
rejected him. He had now renewed his proposal, and he did not like to
think that there had been any one else between his overtures. And he
could not deny the strength of his mother's argument when she averred
that Mr Maguire would not have come down there unless he had had, as
she said, every encouragement. Indeed, throughout the whole affair,
Lady Ball believed Mr Maguire, and disbelieved her niece; and
something of her belief, and something also of her disbelief,
communicated itself to her son. But, still, he reserved to himself
the right of postponing his own opinion till the morrow; and