Her whyles Sir Calidore there vowed well,
And markt her rare demeanure, which him seemed
So farre the meane of shepheards to excell,
As that he in his mind her worthy deemed
To be a prince's paragone esteemed.
SPENSER.

Margaret breakfasted with Miss Gage in her dressing-room the next morning, and heard all the particulars that she wished to know respecting the ball. She went down stairs about the middle of the day, and the first person she saw was Harriet Conway standing on the lawn outside the drawing-room windows, talking to Lord Raymond, while Hubert Gage and Mr. Conway were teazing her Skye terrier at a little distance. As soon as she caught sight of Margaret, she came to the window and greeted her.

"Quite well, really? That is right! No remains whatever of that unlucky head-ache? I hope devoutly the dog will bite you both!" she exclaimed, turning round to the gentlemen.

Hubert left the dog to its fate, and came up to condole with Margaret upon her disappointment of the last evening—his disappointment he ought to say; for he was sure that he had been the greatest sufferer on the occasion.

Margaret, knowing very well that he had been dancing, and enjoying himself all the evening, laughed, and said she was sorry for him.

Lord Raymond, who was just going off, took Harriet on one side, and seemed to be talking very earnestly to her. Mr. Conway joined Margaret at the window with the dog, and conversed with her in a very condescending manner; tried to persuade her to think Donald a great beauty, and told her how much money the little beast was worth.

While they were thus employed, Mr. Gage came into the drawing-room, and advanced leisurely to Margaret. He immediately caught sight of Harriet and Lord Raymond; but he was far too experienced to suffer any vexation to be traced in his manner. He made the most anxious inquiries after Miss Capel's health; regretted very much the loss their party had sustained on the previous night; abused the ball as intolerably stupid; and tried to persuade Margaret to allow him to drive her out after luncheon. He hoped now that she had seen how quiet his horses were, she would feel disposed to trust herself with him. He trusted that Miss Harriet Conway had inspired Miss Capel with a little of her courage.

Harriet, hearing her own name, turned round, and seeing George Gage, coloured, waved her hand to him by way of "good morning," and then renewed her conversation with Lord Raymond. His Lordship did not speak very fast; and like many people, the more he made up his mind to go, the farther he was from going. He had to say a great many things which he was very earnest in delivering, and which made Harriet laugh very much; and the bystanders would hardly have imagined that the substance of his narrative was the history of some tulip roots which his sister had paid a great deal of money for, and which, owing to some carelessness on her part, had never blossomed at all.

Meantime, while Mr. Gage talked to Margaret of the flower-show, he was watching every movement and look of Harriet's; and his patience was going by inches, while he appeared much interested in moss roses and Neapolitan violets. At last he said to Mr. Conway in a remarkably calm manner, that considering his sister was an invalid, it occurred to him that it was hardly prudent to stand out in a high wind without a shawl.

Mr. Conway laughed, said it was true enough; but that Harriet had a will of her own, and would not thank him if he interrupted her conversation for the minor consideration of a bonnet and cloak.

"What is that you say of me?" asked Harriet, running up to the window, having just parted from Lord Raymond. "Here, Hubert, stand out of the way, you are such giants, you Gage's. Give me my dog, Charles. Now, Margaret, if you wish to see a beauty—but what were you saying of me?"

"Merely remarking that it would have been unpardonable to break in upon your tÊte-Á-tÊte to save you from the chance of another illness. I ventured to think that you were slightly clad for so cold a wind," said Mr. Gage, drawing his chair to the fire, as if in proof of the inclement weather.

"People have no business to think at all upon my proceedings," said Harriet, carelessly, "Hubert! I wish you would go and get Donald a little bit of meat on a plate; he ought to have his dinner about this time of day. My dog is not a dog in the manger," she added; drawing close to Margaret with Donald in her arms. "How frightened you look. He does not hear me."

"He will be worth nothing for sport if you nurse and pet him so," said her brother, "you had much better have a lap-dog."

"Now is not that quite a man's idea?" said Harriet laughing, "if you can make anything of use to you, well; but you have literally no notion of companionship. You judge everything by what it would fetch; and why you ever marry, I cannot think, unless you get some money by the bargain."

"Oh! that is too severe upon my word. Do not you think so?" said Hubert, turning to Margaret.

"I hope so," said Margaret, "but I have seen too little to judge."

"I cannot think that experience will ever make you judge hardly of others," said Mr. Gage in a soft voice to Margaret.

"Experience will tell her that to judge truly, is to judge hardly in five cases out of ten," said Harriet disdainfully.

"Luncheon is ready," exclaimed Hubert, taking Margaret's hand and hurrying her out of the room, "and a good thing too, for our discussion was growing rather stormy; and I have no objection to interrupt my courtier of a brother in his pretty speeches."

Margaret laughed as she took her seat at the table, and said she thought that pretty speeches ran in the family. She felt now perfectly at her ease with both brothers; feeling convinced that George was still attached to Harriet Conway, and that Hubert did not know what it was to be attached to any body.

"Oh, by the way!" said Hubert, as he drew a chair beside Margaret, "Haveloc would go off after breakfast. He made many inquiries about you, and was very sorry, as everybody was, last night. Bread! to be sure, I beg you a thousand pardons. Now don't starve; it is dreadful to see women eat so little, it reminds me of that story,—did you ever read the Arabian Nights?"

"Often," said Margaret, "you mean the story of the Ghoul. I do not mean to be a Ghoul to-day; you may give me some chicken."

"That's right," said Hubert. "Hallo! here is the Governor with that old wretch, Casement. How I wish Haveloc was here; he hates the old fellow so cordially. Don't you?"

"I am glad he is away," said Margaret, "for they always quarrel."

"You are an angel of peace," exclaimed Hubert, gazing at her with admiration.

"Pray don't be sentimental at luncheon," said Margaret, laughing, "it is so very inappropriate."

Captain Gage and Mr. Casement now came up to the table. Captain Gage took a vacant chair on the other side of Margaret; shook hands, and said a great many kind things to her on her loss of the ball; hoped it would not be long before there was another in the neighbourhood; wondered what people were about that they did not give as many dances as they used to do, and insisted on her drinking a glass of wine. Mr. Casement stopped short, and taking out his glasses, surveyed everybody at table with much deliberation; and odious as he was, there was something in his manner which showed that he had been used to a great deal of society, and that he held himself on a level with everybody he met.

"Hallo!" said he, "you have got a party together. How do you manage to keep them out of mischief; eh, Captain? There is something going on at your elbow there, as I'm alive. Eh, little woman! Shall I go home and tell uncle?"

Margaret coloured deeply. Miss Gage shook her head at Mr. Casement.

"Miss Gage, your most devoted," said he, bowing to her. "No, I never touch anything at this time of day—well, for once, give me a bit of tongue, little woman. Thank you, Master Hubert."

And not being able to express himself fully, under the kind but commanding eye of Miss Gage, he was obliged to content himself by making a face at Hubert and Margaret, which was intended to speak the contents of a whole valentine.

"And who is that curly-headed thing yonder?" said Mr. Casement pointing with his glasses to Harriet.

"My niece, Harriet," said Captain Gage, who was so used to hear Harriet call him uncle, that he forgot at the moment that their relationship was rather more distant.

"Niece—by Adam's side," said Mr. Casement. "Eh, Captain Gage! it looks rather suspicious when gentlemen call ladies their nieces—ha! ha!"

"Sir!" said George Gage, staring in his most arrogant manner at Mr. Casement.

"Eh! you there Master George?" said Mr. Casement. "I thought you could not get leave; really, when one considers what a farce the service is now-a-days, one is puzzled to know why you should not get leave, as you call it, every mother's son of you at once. What are you doing over in Ireland?"

George Gage seemed very little disposed to give Mr. Casement an answer; but after staring at him haughtily for a moment, he replied "Nothing." And then turning to his sister, he asked her some questions about her plans for the afternoon.

"Do you know, Uncle Gage," said Harriet, "that I am going to stay here a whole week longer?"

"The longer the better," said Captain Gage. "I wish you were all going to stay. The house will seem deserted when you are gone."

Lady Conway made some polite reply to this speech, and thanked Miss Gage for taking charge of Harriet, for she knew they were to have a very gay week at Wardenscourt, and it was important that Harriet should be quiet.

George Gage on hearing this announcement, directed his merciless stare to Harriet in some surprise; for Wardenscourt was Lord Raymond's place, and it seemed but natural that she should have made an effort to go there.

Harriet cared nothing for his gaze; she was used to be looked at, and she did not even seem to perceive that his eyes were upon her; she kept her eyes on her plate, and a suppressed smile played for an instant on her cheek, as she said, "Ah! Wardenscourt; they are sure to be really gay there. It is the only house almost—but I shall have the pleasure of being with you Bessy."

"Wardenscourt is not far off, fortunately," said George.

Harriet looked up, still smiling.

"No," she said. "I hope Lord Raymond will come over one morning to tell me about the pointers his keeper is training for Uncle Singleton. Take care that you remind him, Lucy."

Lucy laughed and coloured. Margaret felt very much inclined to laugh too.

"It will be worth while for him to come over," said George, "if he occupies you as profitably as he did this morning."

"How was that, Mr. Gage?" asked Lady Conway.

"The fact is this, mamma," said Harriet hastily, "Mr. Gage having forgotten my out of door propensities, was astonished to see me standing on the lawn for a few minutes without my bonnet."

"Oh! pray be careful while we are away, my dear," said Lady Conway. "You must not take cold."

They were rising. Mr. Gage drew back Harriet's chair; and she, in passing out, fixed her splendid eyes upon him, and muttered in a distinct manner, 'Tu me lo pagherai.'

He bowed as if to say, he was willing to make payment at any time.

The ladies remained loitering among the beautiful plants in the hall, and Elizabeth coming up to Margaret, urged her, in a low voice, to stay with her as long as Harriet remained at Chirke Weston.

"It will be more cheerful for both of you, and though I do not propose her as a model for your imitation; you are safe with her, she always speaks the truth. And your uncle can better spare you now Mr. Haveloc is with him."

Margaret accepted with much pleasure, and the visitors having now all dropped off, she began really to enjoy herself. They walked out, accompanied by George and Hubert over a beautiful country.

Hubert divided his attentions very much between Margaret and the Skye terrier.

Harriet took her own course, swinging in her hand a little riding-whip which had a whistle at the end of it, with which she was used to summon her dog.

George walked with Elizabeth, being out of humour, and thinking very properly that his sister was created for the especial purpose of cheering him under the influence of that complaint.

She succeeded in doing so, for her evenness of temper was remarkable. She agreed that it was a miserable day—that the wind was keen—that it was very likely to rain—that the ball had been a dull one, and that the post came in at Chirke Weston at an inconvenient time—and then, (for it does not answer to agree too much with people,) she qualified his censures of Lord Raymond, defended her father's black cravats, maintained there would be a great many people at the flower-show, and said she had not at all pitied him for being obliged to dance with Lady Farquhar, though she was fat, and five and forty.

George being a little restored by this time, began to grow confidential. He told Elizabeth that he was very thankful that things had turned out as they did between Harriet and him. That he was convinced she had no heart. That she was very well suited to Lord Raymond, and he had no doubt but that they would be extremely happy!

He said this in rather an angry tone, and did not look as if he at all wished that their married life should prove an Elysium; so Elizabeth changed the subject.

"What do you think of my little friend?" she asked. "You must admire Margaret."

"Yes," he said. "She is a lovely little creature, but such a mere child, and so shy; and it is too much to expect that one can take the trouble to draw a woman out. I should not be surprised if she was to grow a little taller, which would be an advantage. She dresses well, and her hand and arm is really a model. I was struck with it immediately. And I am glad to perceive," he said, directing his glance to Margaret, as she walked on in front with Hubert and Harriet against a pretty strong breeze. "I am glad to see that her foot and ancle is equally perfect."

"Well," said Elizabeth smiling. "On the whole, your decision seems to be favourable."

"Yes, decidedly," said Mr. Gage quite seriously. "I am very well pleased; for I have not been used to be ashamed of my sister, and I should care to be ashamed of my sister-in-law; for that I suppose will be the end of it, Bessy?"

"I shall be very glad if it is so," replied Elizabeth.

"He might do worse," said Mr. Gage. "Sailors are so inconsÈquent. They often marry the most extraordinary persons—people that one never has heard of. Miss Capel, however, seems highly respectable. But," he added in a low tone, "to put that little doll in competition with such a woman as Harriet! Hubert need not fear me for a rival."

"Very fortunately," said Elizabeth smiling, "it would be dreadful if we were to have the Theban brothers over again."

"They fought for a crown, not a woman," said Mr. Gage, "being wise men."

"Is Mr. Gage very amusing to you, Bessy?" said Harriet, looking back, "that you don't come to join our party?"

Elizabeth good-naturedly quickened her steps, and Harriet said aloud to Margaret, "It is a charity to break in upon their tÊte-Á-tÊte, for Mr. Gage has grown so dull, I think he must have caught cold on the race ground."

Margaret looked frightened, and Mr. Gage pretended not to hear Harriet's speech.

Margaret was very happy during her stay at Chirke Weston. Hubert Gage was always paying her compliments which she laughed at, and contriving all sorts of schemes for her amusement, for which she was much obliged.

She became every day more attached to Elizabeth; she admired her character, and loved her sweetness; and it was delightful to see the terms upon which she lived with her father and brothers.

George Gage paid Margaret the most devoted attentions whenever he wished to pique Harriet, and at other times consigned her to the care of Hubert, as if he had too much delicacy to interfere with his brother's pretensions. Fortunately, she found amusement in the society of both brothers, without allowing their courtesies to penetrate her heart.