was very angry with me."

"But did he believe you or Mr Maguire when you told him that Mr
Maguire's story was a falsehood from beginning to end?"

"But it was not a falsehood from beginning to end. That's where I
have been so very, very unfortunate; and perhaps I ought to say, as
I don't want to hide anything from you, so very, very wrong. The man
did ask me to marry him, and I had given him no answer."

"Had you thought of accepting him?"

"I had not thought about that at all, when he came to me. So I told
him that I would consider it all, and that he must come again."

"And he came again."

"Then my brother's illness occurred, and I went to London. After that
Mr Maguire wrote to me two or three times, and I refused him in the
plainest language that I could use. I told him that I had lost all
my fortune, and then I was sure that there would be an end of any
trouble from him; but he came to the Cedars on purpose to do me all
this injury; and now he has put all these stories about me into the
newspapers, how can I think that any man would like to make me his
wife? I have no right to be surprised that Lady Ball should be so
eager against it."

"But did Mr Ball believe you when you told him the story?"

"I think he did believe me."

"And what did he say?"

Margaret did not answer at once, but sat with her fingers up among
her hair upon her brow:

"I am trying to think what were his words," she said, "but I cannot
remember. I spoke more than he did. He said that I should have told
him about Mr Maguire, and I tried to explain to him that there had
been no time to do so. Then I said that he could leave me if he
liked."

"And what did he answer?"

"If I remember rightly, he made no answer. He left me saying that
he would see me again the next day. But the next day I went away.
I would not remain in the house with Lady Ball after what she had
believed about me. She took that other man's part against me, and
therefore I went away."

"Did he say anything as to your going?"

"He begged me to stay, but I would not stay. I thought it was all
over then. I regarded him as being quite free from any engagement,
and myself as being free from any necessity of obeying him. And it
was all over. I had no right to think anything else."

"And what came next?"

"Nothing. Nothing else has happened, except that Lady Ball came to me
in Arundel Street, asking me to renounce him."

"And you refused?"

"Yes; I would do not