east Hugh said so; do you remember
his ever speaking of a little sister who died?"

"Oh, yes," returned Margaret, quickly; "little Joyce; he was very fond
of her as a boy, she was a lovely little creature."

"Joyce, but her name was Margaret, Mrs. Heron says."

"To be sure, I remember now, Margaret Joyce; it is engraved so on the
tombstone, but they never called her Margaret, it was always Joyce."

"How strange," replied Fay, in a puzzled tone; they were standing on a
little strip of beach now, and the waves were coming in with a lazy
splash and ripple; there was no one in sight, and only a little boat
with sails rocking in the distance; how calm and still and peaceful it
looked. "Little Joyce," she repeated, dreamily, while the soft sea
breeze fanned the little tendrils of hair from her temples; "but it
was dear Margaret for whom he was asking."

There was a quick gasp strangled before it rose to a sob--for one
moment Margaret thought she was in danger of swooning--the sky seemed
whirling, the sea was all round her, the sand was nothing but a giddy
circle of purple and rose, and blinding yellow; then it passed, there
was firm ground under her feet, the mist cleared before her eyes, and
Fay was holding her by the arm.

"Were you giddy? how white you looked. Shall we sit down a little?
your hand is trembling still."

"It was nothing, I have not been strong lately; yes, we will sit, the
air will do us both good. What were you saying, Lady Redmond?" as
though the words were not burned into her memory: "Dear Margaret!"
Why, the very angels must have wept to hear him!

"Whom could he mean?" continued Fay, with nervous reiteration. "I
don't believe Mrs. Heron was right when she said that he was thinking
of his baby sister; he would have called her Joyce. Margaret; there is
no one that I know who has that name except yourself; but," looking at
her doubtfully, "though you were old friends, it was not likely that
he meant you."

A deep flush rose to Margaret's face, a quick petition for help and
wisdom to guide her at this critical moment rose from her heart.

"He used to call me Margaret, in the old days," she said, in a very
low voice. "That need not surprise you, Lady Redmond, as we were such
old friends; his mother called me Margaret too."

"You knew his mother."

"Yes, when I was a child, Sir Hugh and I were playfellows; has he not
told you that; ah, well, it is sad when old friends get estranged.
Lady Redmon