and unlady-like, and would
not have been permitted for a moment.

When the trees had swallowed her up from his sight, Mr. Anstruther turned
and walked in the other direction. And there was a perturbed look on his
face.

CHAPTER II

MARGARET OVERHEARS A CONVERSATION

Margaret's parents had died when she was in her infancy, and she had been
brought up entirely by her grandfather. As far as she knew, she had no
other relatives. Certainly he had never spoken to her of any. When she
grew old enough to begin lessons, Mr. Anstruther had engaged an excellent
governess to reside at Greystones, and at her hands Margaret had received
a careful, sound education. No nun in a convent ever led a more regular
existence than Margaret had led from the time she was five years old
until a few weeks before this story opens. Certainly no girl was ever
expected to lead so quiet and monotonous an existence.

Every morning, winter and summer alike, she entered the schoolroom
punctually at seven and practised on the piano for an hour and a half. At
half-past eight she and Miss Bidwell breakfasted together. Nine to eleven
were lesson hours. Eleven to one were exercise hours. At 1.30 they dined.
The afternoon programme varied according to the seasons and the weather.
In summer they worked from three to five and went out afterwards, while
in winter the order of things was reversed and they went out first and
worked afterwards. After tea Margaret practised again, prepared her
lessons for the next day, and went to bed at nine.

And that had been her daily life year in year out until a few months
before the day on which this story opens. And then, greatly to Mr.
Anstruther's annoyance, an event had occurred which upset all his
carefully laid plans. Miss Bidwell, whose sight had never been very
strong, was threatened with cataract in both eyes, and acting on the
advice of a clever little doctor who had lately come to the
neighbourhood, she had decided to go to her mother's relatives in France
and to take a complete rest until her eyes should be ready for operation.
The news that Miss Bidwell's sight had been failing for some time came as
no surprise to her pupil, who had perceived for some time past that her
governess could scarcely see to read even with the aid of her strongest
glasses, and Margaret, without allowing her to know that she knew--for
she divined that Miss Bidwell had striven desperately to conceal the
truth not only from