‘He respects you, I am sure,’ said Mr. Bell.  ’To be sure, it accounts a little for——.  But he always speaks of you with regard and esteem, though now I understand certain reservations in his manner.’

Margaret did not speak; did not attend to what Mr. Bell went on to say; lost all sense of it.  By-and-by she said: 

’Will you tell me what you refer to about “reservations” in his manner of speaking of me?’

’Oh! simply he has annoyed me by not joining in my praises of you.  Like an old fool, I thought that every one would have the same opinions as I had; and he evidently could not agree with me.  I was puzzled at the time.  But he must be perplexed, if the affair has never been in the least explained.  There was first your walking out with a young man in the dark—­’

‘But it was my brother!’ said Margaret, surprised.

‘True.  But how was he to know that?’

‘I don’t know.  I never thought of anything of that kind,’ said Margaret, reddening, and looking hurt and offended.

’And perhaps he never would, but for the lie,—­which, under the circumstances, I maintain, was necessary.’

‘It was not.  I know it now.  I bitterly repent it.’

There was a long pause of silence.  Margaret was the first to speak.

’I am not likely ever to see Mr. Thornton again,’—­and there she stopped.

‘There are many things more unlikely, I should say,’ replied Mr. Bell.

’But I believe I never shall.  Still, somehow one does not like to have sunk so low in—­in a friend’s opinion as I have done in his.’  Her eyes were full of tears, but her voice was steady, and Mr. Bell was not looking at her.  ’And now that Frederick has given up all hope, and almost all wish of ever clearing himself, and returning to England, it would be only doing myself justice to have all this explained.  If you please, and if you can, if there is a good opportunity, (don’t force an explanation upon him, pray,) but if you can, will you tell him the whole circumstances, and tell him also that I gave you leave to do so, because I felt that for papa’s sake I should not like to lose his respect, though we may never be likely to meet again?’

’Certainly.  I think he ought to know.  I do not like you to rest even under the shadow of an impropriety; he would not know what to think of seeing you alone with a young man.’

‘As for that,’ said Margaret, rather haughtily, ’I hold it is “Honi soit qui mal y pense.”  Yet still I should choose to have it explained, if any natural opportunity for easy explanation occurs.  But it is not to clear myself of any suspicion of improper conduct that I wish to have him told—­if I thought that he had suspected me, I should not care for his good opinion—­no! it is that he may learn how I was tempted, and how I fell into the snare; why I told that falsehood, in short.’

’Which I don’t blame you for.  It is no partiality of mine, I assure you.’