"Much!" I answered. "So much, that were it to do again, I should not make such a promise. But having made it, when I had everything to gain thereby, I dare not break it, now that such a course would be to my advantage. I would not have the matter even mentioned, till the trying time is past. There is sure to be a storm, and such a scene as that of the other night is as much as her life is worth." I cannot write all the arguments he used. We talked till Madam herself sent to call us in to supper. "I bring you a daughter, mother!" said Walter, as we went into Madam's room, where she sat alone. "A dutiful daughter, but also an obstinate one. I trust to you to bring her to reason." Madam folded me in her arms, and gave me her blessing most heartily. But when she heard the matter in dispute, she took my part, and said I was right. And after a time, Walter yielded so far as to consent that the matter should rest till after Hallowmass, by which time we hoped all would be happily over. "Margaret must have the approval of her own mother and brother, as well as my Lady's, under whose care and authority she is at present," said Madam: "and though, as my son says, he owes no obedience to my Lord in this or any other matter, yet, for Margaret's sake, as well as our own, I would have no broils or disagreements. In these troublous times, family bonds should be drawn as closely as may be. Let matters rest as they are till Walter's return." So it was all settled. I called Betty, who was helping Mrs. Prudence in the still-room, and we sat down quietly to supper. Afterward, and when Betty was gone to bed, Walter and I sat over the fire, talking for a long time, Madam being in her chamber. "You will go and see my Aunt Willson in London, will you not?" I asked. "She is a good woman, though somewhat rough in her manners, and hath been very kind to me." And then, suddenly remembering Felicia, I checked myself and wished I had not spoken. "You have another kinswoman staying with her, have you not?" he asked. "A young lady who is very much engaged in Lady Jemima's scheme of the nunnery?" That was news to me, but I said yes, my father's sister lived with Mrs. Willson. "I heard of her from Lady Jemima," continued Walter: "you are not in my Lady Abbess' good books, Margaret, I can tell you." "I know that, only too well," said I. "She has been prejudiced against me, and nothing I can do or say pleases her. I am very sorry, for I was fond of her, and she began by being very kind to me in her way." "She has a great deal of good in her," remarked Walter, "but she is wholly governed by her imagination, and she can see no good in anybody who differs from her. After all, I think the root of her fault lies in her overweening estimate of herself, which makes it a crime in her eyes for any one to cross or oppose her." So we talked till Madam herself sent us to bed.