"Come here," he said, addressing me; "and remember, that, though you have large secretiveness, I must have the truth." I looked at Cornelius; he nodded; I went up to Mr. Thornton, who looked keenly at my face, and, as if something there suggested the question, abruptly asked, "Do you get enough to eat?" "Yes, Sir." "Why don't you eat, then?" "But I do eat." "Why does Mrs. Marks strike you?" "She never strikes me," I replied indignantly. "But why does she ill-use you?" "She does not ill-use me; she dare not." Mr. Thornton looked at Cornelius with ironical triumph. The young man seemed disgusted, and said warmly, "I never meant, sir, that Margaret Burns was a starved, ill-used child. Heaven forbid! But I meant to say that she is left to solitude, idleness, and disgraceful ignorance." "Upon my word, Mr. O'Reilly," observed Mr. Thornton, pushing away his map, as if to survey Cornelius better,--"upon my word, you meddle in my family arrangements with praiseworthy coolness." "Mr. Thornton," replied Cornelius, not a whit disconcerted, and looking at him very calmly, "I brought the child to you; this gives me a right to interfere, which you have yourself acknowledged by not checking me at once." Mr. Thornton gave him an odd look, then grunted a sort of assent, looked at his map, and said impatiently-- "Granted; but not that the child is not treated as she ought to be. Still, within reasonable bounds, she shall be judge in her own case. Do you hear?" he added, turning towards me, "if you want for anything, say so, and you shall get it." "I want to go away," I said at once. "Very well; I shall send you to school." "But I want to go with Mr. O'Reilly." "Mr. O'Reilly is welcome to you," sarcastically replied my grandfather; "he may take you, drop you on the way, do what he likes with you--if he chooses to have you!" I ran to Cornelius. "Shall I get ready?" I asked eagerly. "My dear," he gently replied, "Mr. Thornton means to send you to school, where you will learn many things." "She will not be troubled with much learning," drily observed Mr. Thornton. "Surely, Sir," remonstrated Cornelius, "the poor child is to be educated?" "Sir, she is not to be a fine lady." "Allow me to observe--" "Sir, I will allow you to take her away and do what you like with her; but not to observe." "I take you at your word," warmly replied Cornelius, on whom Mr. Thornton bestowed an astonished look; "take her I will, and educate her too. It would be strange if I could not do for her father's child what that father did for me! I thank you, Sir, for that which brought me here, but which I scarcely knew how to ask for." My grandfather looked at me, and made an odd grimace, as if not considering me a particularly valuable present. Still, and though taken at his word, he seemed scarcely pleased.