And then, having nothing else particular to do, she cried, and said that she knew she cared much more for Margaret than Margaret did for her.  Margaret comforted her as well as she could, but she could hardly explain to her how this idea of Spain, mere Chateau en Espagne as it might be, charmed and delighted her.  Edith was in the mood to think that any pleasure enjoyed away from her was a tacit affront, or at best a proof of indifference.  So Margaret had to keep her pleasure to herself, and could only let it escape by the safety-valve of asking Dixon, when she dressed for dinner, if she would not like to see Master Frederick and his new wife very much indeed?

‘She’s a Papist, Miss, isn’t she?’

‘I believe—­oh yes, certainly!’ said Margaret, a little damped for an instant at this recollection.

‘And they live in a Popish country?’

‘Yes.’

’Then I’m afraid I must say, that my soul is dearer to me than even Master Frederick, his own dear self.  I should be in a perpetual terror, Miss, lest I should be converted.’

‘Oh’ said Margaret, ’I do not know that I am going; and if I go,
I am not such a fine lady as to be unable to travel without you. 
No! dear old Dixon, you shall have a long holiday, if we go.  But
I’m afraid it is a long “if."’

Now Dixon did not like this speech.  In the first place, she did not like Margaret’s trick of calling her ‘dear old Dixon’ whenever she was particularly demonstrative.  She knew that Miss Hale was apt to call all people that she liked ‘old,’ as a sort of term of endearment; but Dixon always winced away from the application of the word to herself, who, being not much past fifty, was, she thought, in the very prime of life.  Secondly, she did not like being so easily taken at her word; she had, with all her terror, a lurking curiosity about Spain, the Inquisition, and Popish mysteries.  So, after clearing her throat, as if to show her willingness to do away with difficulties, she asked Miss Hale, whether she thought if she took care never to see a priest, or enter into one of their churches, there would be so very much danger of her being converted?  Master Frederick, to be sure, had gone over unaccountable.

‘I fancy it was love that first predisposed him to conversion,’ said Margaret, sighing.

‘Indeed, Miss!’ said Dixon; ’well!  I can preserve myself from priests, and from churches; but love steals in unawares!  I think it’s as well I should not go.’

Margaret was afraid of letting her mind run too much upon this Spanish plan.  But it took off her thoughts from too impatiently dwelling upon her desire to have all explained to Mr. Thornton.  Mr. Bell appeared for the present to be stationary at Oxford, and to have no immediate purpose of going to Milton, and some secret restraint seemed to hang over Margaret, and prevent her from even asking, or alluding again to any probability of such a visit on his part.