‘I shall never marry.’

’Nonsense, and double nonsense!  Why, as Sholto says, you’re such an attraction to the house, that he knows ever so many men who will be glad to Visit here next year for your sake.’

Margaret drew herself up haughtily.  ’Do you know, Edith, I sometimes think your Corfu life has taught you——­’

‘Well!’

‘Just a shade or two of coarseness.’

Edith began to sob so bitterly, and to declare so vehemently that Margaret had lost all love for her, and no longer looked upon her as a friend, that Margaret came to think that she had expressed too harsh an opinion for the relief of her own wounded pride, and ended by being Edith’s slave for the rest of the day; while that little lady, overcome by wounded feeling, lay like a victim on the sofa, heaving occasionally a profound sigh, till at last she fell asleep.

Mr. Bell did not make his appearance even on the day to which he had for a second time deferred his visit.  The next morning there came a letter from Wallis, his servant, stating that his master had not been feeling well for some time, which had been the true reason of his putting off his journey; and that at the very time when he should have set out for London, he had been seized with an apoplectic fit; it was, indeed, Wallis added, the opinion of the medical men—­that he could not survive the night; and more than probable, that by the time Miss Hale received this letter his poor master would be no more.

Margaret received this letter at breakfast-time, and turned very pale as she read it; then silently putting it into Edith’s hands, she left the room.

Edith was terribly shocked as she read it, and cried in a sobbing, frightened, childish way, much to her husband’s distress.  Mrs. Shaw was breakfasting in her own room, and upon him devolved the task of reconciling his wife to the near contact into which she seemed to be brought with death, for the first time that she could remember in her life.  Here was a man who was to have dined with them to-day lying dead or dying instead!  It was some time before she could think of Margaret.  Then she started up, and followed her upstairs into her room.  Dixon was packing up a few toilette articles, and Margaret was hastily putting on her bonnet, shedding tears all the time, and her hands trembling so that she could hardly tie the strings.

’Oh, dear Margaret! how shocking!  What are you doing?  Are you going out?  Sholto would telegraph or do anything you like.’

’I am going to Oxford.  There is a train in half-an-hour.  Dixon has offered to go with me, but I could have gone by myself.  I must see him again.  Besides, he may be better, and want some care.  He has been like a father to me.  Don’t stop me, Edith.’

’But I must.  Mamma won’t like it at all.  Come and ask her about it, Margaret.  You don’t know where you’re going.  I should not mind if he had a house of his own; but in his Fellow’s rooms!  Come to mamma, and do ask her before you go.  It will not take a minute.’