"

After a night spent in waking intervals of such thoughts, Margaret
found the ordinary morning, and the talk she could not escape, somewhat
oppressive. Her brothers and sisters disturbed her by their open
expressions of hope and anxiety; she dreaded to have the balance of
tranquillity overset; and then blamed herself for selfishness in not
being as ready to attend to them as usual. Ethel and Norman came
up after breakfast, their aversion by no means decreased by further
acquaintance. Ethel was highly indignant at the tone in which he had
exclaimed, "What, May, have you one as young as this?" on discovering
the existence of the baby; and when Norman observed that was not so
atrocious either, she proceeded, "You did not hear the contemptuous,
compassionate tone when he asked papa what he meant to do with all these
boys."

"I'm glad he has not to settle," said Norman.

"Papa said Harry was to be a sailor, and he said it was a good way to
save expenses of education--a good thing."

"No doubt," said Norman, "he thinks papa only wants to get rid of us, or
if not, that it is an amiable weakness."

"But I can't see anything so shocking in this," said Margaret.

"It is not the words," said Norman, "the look and tone convey it; but
there are different opinions. Flora is quite smitten with him, he talks
so politely to her."

"And Blanche!" said Ethel. "The little affected pussy-cat made a set
at him, bridled and talked in her mincing voice, with all her airs, and
made him take a great deal of notice of her."

Nurse here came to prepare for the surgeon's visit.

It was over, and Margaret awaited the judgment. Sir Matthew had spoken
hopefully to her, but she feared to fasten hopes on what might have no
meaning, and could rely on nothing, till she had seen her father, who
never kept back his genuine pinion, and would least of all from her. She
found her spirits too much agitated to talk to her sisters, and quietly
begged them to let her be quite alone till the consultation was over,
and she lay trying to prepare herself to submit thankfully, whether she
might be bidden to resign herself to helplessness, or to let her mind
open once more to visions of joyous usefulness. Every step she hoped
would prove to be her father's approach, and the longest hour of her
life was that before he entered her room. His face said that the tidings
were good, and yet she could not ask.

"Well, Margaret, I am glad we had him down. He thinks