"Then I will tell you something more, that I might as well have mentioned before. When Mrs Rowland had an idea that Mr Enderby might think of Hester, she told Hester--that miserable day in Dingleford woods--that his family expected he would soon marry a young lady of family and fortune, who was a great favourite with all his connections." "Who may this young lady be?" "Oh, she did not say; some one too high for our acquaintance, if we are to believe what Mrs Rowland declared." "And do you believe it?" "Why--. Do you?" "I dare say Mrs Rowland may believe it herself; but she may be mistaken." "That is exactly what Hester said," observed Margaret, eagerly. "And that was more than five months ago, and we have not heard a syllable of the matter since." "And so intimate a friendship as yours and Mr Enderby's is," said Maria, smiling,--"it is scarcely probable that his mind should be full of such an affair, and that he should be able to conceal it so perfectly from you." "I am glad you think so," said Margaret, ingenuously. "You cannot imagine how strange it is to see Mrs Grey and others taking for granted that he is free, when Hester and I could tell them in a moment what Mrs Rowland said. But if you think Mrs Rowland is all wrong, what do you really suppose about his coming so much to Deerbrook?" "I have little doubt that those friends of yours--Mrs Grey and the others--are right. But--." "But what?" "Just this. If I might warn you by myself; I would caution you, not only against dwelling much upon such a fact, but against interpreting it to mean more than it possibly may. This is my reason for speaking to you upon the matter at all. I do it because you will be pretty sure to hear how the fact itself is viewed by others, while no one else would be likely to give you the caution. Mr Enderby _may_ come, as you suppose, entirely to see his mother. He may come to see you: but, supposing he does, if he is like other men, he may not know his own mind yet: and, there is another possible thing--a thing which is possible, Margaret, though he is such a dear and intimate friend--that he may not know yours--all its strength of affection, all its fidelity, all its trust and power of self-control." "Oh, stop; pray stop," said Margaret. "You frighten me with the thoughts of all you have been saying this evening, though I could so entirely satisfy you as to what our intercourse has been--though I know Mr Enderby so much better than you do. You need warn me no more. I will think of what you have said, if I find myself doubting whether he comes to see his mother--if I find myself listening to what others may suppose about his reasons. Indeed, I will remember what you have said." "Then I am glad I ventured to say it, particularly as you are not angry with me this time." "I am not at all angry: how could I be so? But I do not agree with you about the fact." "I know it, and I may be mistaken."