"Indeed, mamma," she said, "I am very sorry. I did not know at first--at least I did not think--that I was doing what you would not like. He used to meet me when I went into the park, sometimes--when Alicia was reading. Alicia did not know. And he was very nice, he was always _nice_ mamma. He told me a great deal about himself--how discontented he was with his life, and how I might help him to make it better. And I should like to help him, mamma: it seems to me it would be a good thing to do. And if you and papa would help him too, he might take quite a different position in the County." "My poor child!" said Caroline. "My poor deluded child!" She lay silent for a few moments, thinking how to frame the argument which she felt was most likely to appeal to Margaret's tenderer feelings. "Of course," she said at last, very slowly, "of course, if he told you so much about his past life, he told you about his marriage--about that little boy's mother." "He said that he had been very unhappy. I do not think," said Margaret with simplicity, "that he loved his first wife as he loves me." "No doubt he made you think so, dear. His first wife, indeed! Did he tell you that his first wife was alive?" "Mamma!" "He says he is divorced from her," said Lady Caroline, sarcastically, "and seems to think it is no drawback to have been divorced. I and your father think differently. I do not mean there is any legal obstacle; but he took a very unfair advantage of your youth and inexperience by never letting you know that fact--or, at any rate, letting us know it before he paid you any attention. That stamps him as not being a gentleman, Margaret." "Who told you, mamma?" "His cousin and your friend," said Lady Caroline, coldly: "Miss Janetta Colwyn." Margaret's color had fluctuated painfully for the last few minutes; she now sat down on a chair near the open window, and turned so pale that her mother thought her about to faint. Lady Caroline was on her feet immediately, and began to fan her, and to hold smelling salts to her nostrils; but in a very short time the girl's color returned, and she declined any further remedies. "I did not know this," she said at last, rather piteously, "but it is too late to make any difference, mamma, it really is. I love Wyvis Brand, and he loves me. Surely you won't refuse to let us love one another?" She caught her mother's hand, and Lady Caroline put her arms around her daughter's shoulders and kissed her as fondly as ever. "My poor dear, romantic Child!" she said. "Do you think we can let you throw yourself quite away?" "But I have given my promise!" "Your father must tell Mr. Brand that you cannot keep your promise, my darling. It is quite out of the question." And Lady Caroline thought she had settled the whole matter by that statement. CHAPTER XXX. IN REBELLION.