to
secrecy, and perhaps--Rita--perhaps I may have been boy enough, old as I
am, to enjoy my own little conspiracy. It is over; the play is played
out. I have already made my peace with Margaret, and I think Peggy is
prepared to accept my explanation. What do you say?"

Rita had followed every word with breathless attention, her colour
coming and going, her eyes growing momently brighter. Now, at this
direct appeal, she rose and flung out her arms with the dramatic gesture
so familiar to two of her hearers.

"I say?" she repeated. "I say it was magnificent! It was superb!
Marguerite, do I exaggerate? It was _inspired_! My uncle, I am prepared
to adore you!"

Mr. Montfort looked alarmed, but pleased. Rita went on, glowing with
enthusiasm.

"It was perfectly conceived, perfectly carried out! Ah, why were you not
on my side? Together, you and I, we could have done--everything!"

"You did not ask me, my dear!" said Mr. Montfort dryly. There was that
in his look that made Rita blush at last. But in her present mood she
could bear anything.

"I beg again your pardon!" she cried. "Uncle, this time I beg for my own
self pardon, of my own will. I was bad, wicked, abominable! Marguerite
was right; she is always right! I kneel to you in penitence!"

And she would have knelt down, then and there, if her uncle had not
stopped her hastily and positively.

"Give me a kiss instead, my dear!" he said. "We have had heroics enough
for one day, and we must come down to plain common sense. Rita, Peggy,
Margaret,--my three Margaret Montforts,--I wish and mean to love you
all." He stooped and kissed each girl on the forehead; but he lingered
by Margaret's side, and laid his hand on her hair with a silent gesture
which held a blessing in it.

"Margaret, you must rest now!" he said with kind authority. "Rita, we
have left your brother and cousin too long alone. Come with me, and let
us see what we can do to make them forget their untoward introduction to
Fernley House."

CHAPTER XV.

FAREWELL.

The days that followed were merry ones at Fernley House. Mr. Montfort
insisted on treating both the young Cubans as his nephews, and found
them, as he said, very pleasant lads. Carlos had something of Rita's
fire, but with it a good share of common sense that kept him from folly.
Fernando was a mild and gentle youth, with nothing passionate about him
save his moustache, which curled with ferocity. His large, dark eyes
were soft a