"So," said she, presently: "I have been hearing of fine doings between you and grave Cousin Walter, whom every one thought to have a head too full of public matters to meddle in love-making. What think you I shall say to you, maiden?" "I am sure you will say nothing but what is right and kind, my Lady," I answered, taking courage from her tone. "I begged Madam to tell you, because I felt that I ought not to have any secrets from you." "So my cousin said, and so far it was well done but, Margaret, ought you to have promised yourself to any man, much more a member of mine own family, without asking me?" "I did not, my Lady," I answered her, eagerly. "I told Mr. Corbet I was bound to be ruled by you, and I could not marry without your consent: and I said I would not leave you for a year, at all events, because I had promised to abide with Lady Betty for that space of time, whatever might happen." "Why, that was well," said my Lady, "but, sweetheart, a year is a long time. I fear you are laying out for yourself a hard piece of work—harder than you will have strength to perform." "I think not, my Lady," I said. "It is my duty to be faithful to my word and to you, and I am sure that I shall have strength given me to do it. Beside that, I do not think it will be as hard now as it has been heretofore." "I suppose it was this same regard for Master Walter, which so hardened your heart against poor Mr. Penrose," said my Lady, after a little silence. "I think not, altogether, my Lady," I answered. "I don't think I should have cared to marry Mr. Penrose, even though I had never seen Mr. Corbet; though, I confess, I never knew what Mr. Corbet was to me till then." "So Jemima was right, after all," continued my Lady: "right, I mean, in thinking that your mind was fixed elsewhere. Not that I accuse you of using any art or coquetry, so you need not flush so angrily," she added, patting my cheek. "Marry, it needs no coquetry in the candle, to make the moths fly into it. Well, Margaret, I know not what to say to this matter. My cousin hath a right to please himself; and though you are somewhat too young for him, I believe he hath chosen wisely. His mother, I can see, is well-pleased, and I suppose yours will hardly make any objection. Walter is a good man, though grave and sombre at times, but I believe he will make you a good husband. I think you, too, have made a wise choice." "If it please you, my Lady, I do not feel as if I had made any choice," said I. "I cannot think that one goes to work to choose a husband or wife as one does a horse or a new gown. It seems to me as if those things should be ordered by Providence. I am sure I never chose to care for Mr. Corbet. It came upon me unawares, and I was as much surprised when I found it out as any one could be." "And suppose Mr. Corbet had not cared for you, what then?" asked my Lady. "Would you then have gone on mourning all your days, or would you have turned your affections on another object?"