id in an odd, doubtful voice,
"Then you are glad?"

Margaret nearly laughed at the strange manner, but spoke with a
sorrowful tone, "Glad in one way, dearest, almost too glad, and
grateful."

"Oh, I am so glad!" again said Ethel; "I thought it was making everybody
unhappy."

"I don't believe I could be that, now he has come, now I know;" and her
voice trembled. "There must be doubt and uncertainty," she added, "but
I cannot dwell on them just yet. They will settle what is right, I know,
and, happen what may, I have always this to remember."

"Oh, that is right! Papa will be so relieved! He was afraid it had only
been distress."

"Poor papa! Yes, I did not command myself at first; I was not sure
whether it was right to see him at all."

"Oh, Margaret, that was too bad!"

"It did not seem right to encourage any such--such," the word was lost,
"to such a poor helpless thing as I am. I did not know what to do, and I
am afraid I behaved like a silly child, and did not think of dear papa's
feelings. But I will try to be good, and leave it all to them."

"And you are going to be happy?" said Ethel wistfully.

"For the present, at least. I cannot help it," said Margaret. "Oh, he
is so kind, and so unselfish, and so beautifully gentle--and to think of
his still caring! But there, dear Ethel, I am not going to cry; do call
papa, or he will think me foolish again. I want him to be quite at ease
about me before he comes."

"Then he is coming?"

"Yes, at tea-time--so run, dear Ethel, and tell Jane to get his room
ready."

The message quickened Ethel, and after giving it, and reporting
consolingly to her father, she went up to Flora, who had been a
voluntary prisoner upstairs all this time, and was not peculiarly
gratified at such tidings coming only through the medium of Ethel. She
had before been sensible that, superior in discretion and effectiveness
as she was acknowledged to be, she did not share so much of the
confidence and sympathy as some of the others, and she felt mortified
and injured, though in this case it was entirely her own fault. The
sense of alienation grew upon her.

She dressed quickly, and hurried down, that she might see Margaret
alone; but the room was already prepared for tea, and the children were
fast assembling. Ethel came down a few minutes after, and found Blanche
claiming Alan Ernescliffe as her lawful property, dancing round him,
chattering, and looking injured if he addressed a word