Margaret looked at him with her beautiful eyes full of tears. Edgar was not for a moment unfaithful to his Gussy, but after that look I believe he would have dared heaven and earth, and Mr. Thornleigh, rather than interfere with anything upon which this lovely creature had set her heart. Could it be that she had set her heart on Harry Thornleigh, he asked himself with a groan? “No,” he said; “they write to me very seldom. When did you hear?” “Mr. Earnshaw, I have had a letter this morning--it has shaken me very much,” said Margaret. “Will you come to the cottage with me till I tell you? Do you remember?--but you could not remember--it was before your time.” “What?--I may have heard of it--something which agitates you?” “Not painfully,” said Margaret, with a faltering voice and unsteady smile; “gladly, if I could put faith in it. Jeanie had a brother that was lost at sea, or we thought he was lost. It was his loss that made her so--ill; and she took you for him--you are like him, Mr. Earnshaw. Well,” said Margaret, two tears dropping out of her eyes, “they have had a letter--he is not dead, he is perhaps coming home.” “What has become of him, then?--and why did he never send word?” cried Edgar. “How heartless, how cruel!” Margaret laid her hand softly on his arm. “Ah! you must not say that!” she cried. “Sailors do not think so much of staying away a year or two. He was shipwrecked, and lost everything, and he could not come home in his poverty upon granny. Oh! if we were all as thoughtful as that! Mr. Earnshaw, sailors are not just to be judged like other men.” “He might have killed his poor little sister!” cried Edgar, indignantly; “that is a kind of conduct for which I have no sympathy. And granny, as you call her----” “Ah! you never learnt to call her granny,” said Margaret, with animation. “Dear granny has never been strong since her last attack--the shock, though it was joy, was hard upon her. And she was afraid for Jeanie; but Jeanie has stood it better than anybody could hope; and perhaps he is there now,” said Margaret, with once more the tears falling suddenly from her eyes. “You know him?” said Edgar. “Oh! _know_ him! I knew him like my own heart!” cried Margaret, a flush of sudden colour spreading over her pale face. She did not look up, but kept her eyes upon the ground, going softly along by Edgar’s side, her beautiful face full of emotion. “He would not write till he had gained back again what was lost. He is coming home captain of his ship,” she said, with an indescribable soft triumph.