“Do you think any man would be such a fool as to speak to his parents before he had spoken to the woman?” she said. “One never knows how such a boy as Harry may act, but I should not have thought that likely. However, you have not answered my question. Do you think you have any influence, being her cousin, over her?” “I do not know her,” said Edgar. “I have only spoken to her once.” Would this be sufficient defence for him? he wondered, or must he hear himself again appealed to, to interfere in another case so like his own? “That is very unfortunate,” said Lady Mary, with a sigh; but, happily for him, she there left the subject. “I cannot say that she has ever given him any encouragement,” she said presently, in a subdued tone. Margaret had gained her point; she was acquitted of this sin, at least; but Lady Mary pronounced the acquittal somewhat grudgingly. Perhaps, when a young man is intent upon making a foolish marriage, it is the best comfort to his parents and friends to be able to feel that _she_ is artful and designing, and has led the poor boy away. Edgar went out next morning to see his cousins; he announced his intention at the breakfast-table, to make sure of no encounter with poor Harry, who was flighty and unpleasant in manner, and seemed to have some wish to fix a quarrel upon him. Harry looked up quickly, as if about to speak, but changed his mind, and said nothing. And Edgar went his way--hoping the doctor might not be gone upon his round of visits, yet hoping he might; not wishing to see Margaret, and yet wishing to see her--in a most uncomfortable and painful state of mind. To his partial surprise and partial relief, he met her walking along the green towards the avenue with her little girl. It was impossible not to admire her grace, her beautiful, half-pathetic countenance, and the gentle maternity of the beautiful young woman never separate from the beautiful child, who clung to her with a fondness and dependence which no indifferent mother ever earns. She greeted Edgar with the sudden smile which was like sunshine on her face, and held out her hand to him with frank sweetness. “I am very glad you have come back,” she said. “It has been unfortunate for us your being away.” “Only unfortunate for me, I think,” said Edgar, “for you seem to have made friends with my friends as much as if I had been here to help it on. Is this Sibby? I have heard of nothing but Sibby since I came back.” “Lady Mary has been very kind,” said Margaret, with, he thought, a faint flush over her pale, pretty cheek. “And you like the place? And Dr. Charles has got acquainted with his patients?” “My brother would like to tell you all that himself,” said Margaret; “but I want to speak to you of Loch Arroch, and of the old house, and dear granny. Did you know that she was ill again?”