Part 47 (1/2)

”Yesterday morning they would have counted for everything; but not this morning.”

”And why not, Margaret?”

This was a question to which it was so difficult to find a reply, that she left it unanswered. They both walked on in silence for some paces, and then she spoke again.

”You said yesterday that you had been with Mr Slow, and that you had something to tell me. If you still wish to tell me anything, perhaps you can do so now.”

”Everything seems to be so much changed,” said he, speaking very gloomily.

”Yes,” said she; ”things are changed. But my confidence in Mr Slow, and in you, is not altered. If you like it, you can settle everything about the money without consulting me. I shall agree to anything about that.”

”I was going to propose that your brother's family should have the debt due by the Rubbs. Mr Slow thinks he might so manage as to secure the payment of the interest.”

”Very well; I shall be delighted that it should be so. I had hoped that they would have had more, but that of course is all over. I cannot give them what is not mine.”

But this arrangement, which would have been pleasant enough before,--which seemed to be very pleasant when John Ball was last in Mr Slow's chambers, telling that gentleman that he was going to make everything smooth by marrying his cousin,--was not by any means so pleasant now. He had felt, when he was mentioning the proposed arrangement to Margaret, that the very naming of it seemed to imply that Mr Maguire and his visit were to go for nothing. If Mr Maguire and his visit were to go for much--to go for all that which Lady Ball wished to make of them--then, in such a case as that, the friendly arrangement in question would not hold water. If that were to be so, they must all go to work again, and Mr Slow must be told to do the best in his power for his own client. John Ball was by no means resolved to obey his mother implicitly and make so much of Mr Maguire and his visit as all this; but how could he help doing so if Margaret would go away? He could not as yet bring himself to tell her that Mr Maguire and the visit should go altogether for nothing. He shook his head in his trouble, and pished and pshawed.

”The truth is, Margaret, you can't go to-day.”

”Indeed I shall, John,” said she, smiling. ”You would hardly wish to keep me a prisoner, and the worst you could do would be to keep my luggage from me.”

”Then I must say that you are very obstinate.”

”It is not very often that I resolve to have my own way; but I have resolved now, and you should not try to balk me.”

They had now come round nearly to the house, and she showed, by the direction that she took, that she was going in.

”You will go?” said he.

”Yes,” said she; ”I will go. My address will be at the old house in Arundel Street. Shall I see you again before I go?” she asked him, when she stood on the doorstep. ”Perhaps you will be busy, and I had better say goodbye.”

”Good-bye,” said he, very gloomily; but he took her hand.

”I suppose I had better not disturb my uncle. You will give him my love. And, John, you will tell some one about my luggage; will you not?”

He muttered some affirmative, and then went round from the front of the house, while she entered the hall.

It was now half-past eleven, and she intended to start at half-past twelve. She went into the drawing-room and not finding her aunt, rang the bell. Lady Ball was with Sir John, she was told. She then wrote a note on a sc.r.a.p of paper, and sent it in:

DEAR AUNT,

I leave here at half-past twelve. Perhaps you would like to see me before I go.

M. M.

Then, while she was waiting for an answer, she went into the school room, and said good-bye to all the children.

”But you are coming back, aunt Meg,” said the youngest girl.