John,
and that it would be better that nothing should be said. So she went
away to her own room, and dispatched her maid to send the lamb to the
lion. Nevertheless, it was not without compunction, some twang of
feminine conscience, that Mrs Mackenzie gave up this opportunity
of saying some last important word, and perhaps doing some last
important little act with regard to those nicenesses of which she
thought perhaps too much. Mrs Mackenzie's philosophy was not without
its truth; but a man of fifty should not be made to marry a woman
by muslin and starch, if he be not prepared to marry her on other
considerations.

When the message came, Margaret thought nothing of the muslin and
starch. The bonnet that had been worth its weight in gold, and the
black-freckled dress, were all forgotten. But she thought of the
words which her cousin John had spoken to her as soon as they had
got through the little gate into the grounds of the Cedars when they
had walked back together from the railway station at Twickenham; and
she remembered that she had then pledged herself to be firm. If he
alluded to the offer he had then made, and repeated it, she would
throw herself into his arms at once, and tell him that she would
serve him with all her heart and all her strength as long as God
might leave them together. But she was quite as strongly determined
to accept from him for herself no other kind of provision. That money
which for a short while had been hers was now his; and she could
have no claim upon him unless he gave her the claim of a wife. After
what had passed between them she would not be the recipient of his
charity. Certain words had been written and spoken from which she had
gathered the existence, in Mr Slow's mind, of some such plan as this.
His client should lose her cause meekly and graciously, and should
then have a claim for alms. That had been the idea on which Mr Slow
had worked. She had long made up her mind that Mr Slow should be
taught to know her better, if the day for such offering of alms
should ever come. Perhaps it had come now. She took up a little scarf
that she wore ordinarily and folded it tight across her shoulders,
quite forgetful of muslin and starch, as she descended to the
drawing-room in order that this question might be solved for her.

Sir John met her almost at the door as she entered.

"I'm afraid you've been expecting me to come sooner," he said.

"No, indeed; I was not quite sure that you