"So I find we are not to have your company to-morrow," said my Lord, meeting me afterward on the stairs. "'Tis very kind in you to stop with my Lady, and lose the pleasure of the day, but you shall fare none the worse, I promise you. Of course it is not to be expected that I should remain at home—" (I did not see the "of course—" it would have seemed to me only natural, remembering my dear father's way at such times)—"but I am glad you will be with her, and I shall not forget it. You are a good girl, Margaret." I courtesied, and said, "Thank you, my Lord." "By the way, I hear that Wat Corbet is coming home soon," said he, detaining me on the stairs, as I was about to pass him. "Have you heard of it?" "I knew he expected to be at home about Hallowmass," I answered. "You know a great deal about him, it seems to me," said my Lord, in rather a discontented tone. "However, an' that come to pass which I hope for, he may marry whom he likes, for all me. You have always been a good girl, Meg, and fond of my Lady. You are not scheming to stand in her shoes, are you?" "No, my Lord, that I am not!" I answered, rather hotly. "I hope my Lady may stand in her own shoes this many a day to come. As for scheming, I am scheming for nothing, and I see not why I should be accused of it!" "Well, well, you need not be so tart!" said my Lord. (People like him always wonder how folks can be so tart.) "I only asked the question. I am sorry to miss your company, and so I dare say some other folks will be, but my Lady's fancies are to be considered, of course. Tell me what I shall bring Betty from the revels? Poor child, 'tis a hard case that all such things must pass by her, and she have none of the fun: but I suppose she would like a fairing." I felt sure she would, and told him what I thought she would fancy, namely, a thread-case and scissor-case—for she is beginning to take great pleasure in needlework. "I will remember," said he, taking out his tablets, and setting down what I had told him; "and what shall I give you?" "I will leave that to your own taste, my Lord," I was saying, when Lady Jemima coming down the stairs, a little way, called out, "Brother, I wish to speak with you!" and I made my escape. But going down again presently, to carry some message which my Lady had given me to Mrs. Judith, I heard my Lord say to Lady Jemima, as he left her room: "Well, well, we can do nothing now, my Lady is so set upon her. But if you are right, Jem!—" I hurried on and heard no more, but I felt sure that they were talking of me.