s so long--so dreadfully long, to get anything done in that
way," said Margaret. And they discussed the point in a desultory
fashion. Of course Lady Victoria's suggestion was the simplest and most
direct one. She was quite certain that Margaret would get her rights
very soon.

"Of course," said she, "they must do it. It would be so unjust not to."
She looked at Margaret with a bright smile, as if there was no such
thing as injustice in the world. But the Countess looked grave; and as
she leaned back in her deep arm-chair by the window, with half-closed
eyes, it was easy to see she was in trouble. She needed help and
sympathy and comfort. She had never needed help before, and it was not a
pleasant sensation to her; perhaps she was dissatisfied when she
realised whose help of all others she would most gladly accept. At least
it would be most pleasant that he should offer it. "He"--has it come to
that? Poor Margaret! If "he" represented a sorrow instead of a
happiness, would you confide that too to Lady Victoria? Or would you
feel the least shadow of annoyance because you miss him to-day? Perhaps
it is only habit. You have schooled yourself to believe you ought to do
without him, and you fancy you ought to be angry with yourself for
transgressing your rule. But what avails your schooling against the
little god? He will teach you a lesson you will not forget. The day is
sinking. The warm earth is drinking out its cup of sunlight to the
purple dregs thereof. There is great colour in the air, and the clouds
are as a trodden wine-press in the west. The old sun, the golden bowl of
life, is touching earth's lips, and soon there will be none of the wine
of light left in him. She will drink it all. Yet your lover tarries,
Margaret, and comes not.

Margaret and Lady Victoria agreed they would dine together. Indeed,
Margaret had a little headache, for she was weary. They would dine
together, and then read something in the evening--quite alone; and so
they did. It was nearly nine o'clock when the servant announced Claudius
and the Duke. The latter, of course, knew nothing about Margaret's
troubles, and was in high spirits. As for Claudius, his momentary
excitement, caused by Mr. Screw's insinuations, had long since passed
away, and he was as calm as ever, meditating a graphic description of
his day's excursion to Greenwood Cemetery for Margaret's benefit. It was
a lugubrious subject, but he well knew how to make his talk interesting