"I am not angry, Til; though it seems to be my luck to be imagined angry when there's nothing further from my thoughts. I'm not angry, my dear--not in the least." "What about Geoff, mother?" "O, my dear, that's enough to make one's blood boil! Ive never said a word to you before about this, Matilda--being one of those persons who keep pretty much to themselves, though I see a great deal more than people think for,--Ive never said a word to you before about this; for, as I said to myself, what good could it do? But I'm perfectly certain that there's something wrong with Margaret." "How do you mean, mother? Something wrong!--is she ill?" "Now, my dear Matilda, as though a woman would be likely to be well when she's just had----. Bless my soul, the young women of the present day are very silly! I wasn't speaking of her health, of course." "Of what then, mother?" said Til, with resignation. "Well, then, my dear, haven't you noticed,--but I suppose not: no one appears to notice these things in the way that I do,--but you might have noticed that for the last few weeks Margaret has seemed full of thought, dreamy, and not caring for any thing that went on. If Ive pointed out once to her about the mite of a cap that that Harriet wears, and all her hair flying about her ears, and a crinoline as wide as wide, Ive spoken a dozen times; but she's taken no notice; and now the girl sets me at defiance, and tells me I'm not her mistress, and never shall be I That's one thing; but there are plenty of others. I was sure Geoffrey's linen could not be properly aired--the colds he caught were so awful; and I spoke to Margaret about it, but she took no notice; and yesterday, when the clothes came home from the laundress, I felt them myself, and you might have wrung the water out of them in pints. There are many other little things too that Ive noticed; and I'll tell you what it is, Matilda--I'm certain she has got something on her mind." "O, I hope not, poor girl, poor dear Margaret!" "Poor dear fiddlestick! What nonsense you talk, Matilda! If there's any one to be pitied, it's Geoffrey, I should say; though what he could have expected, taking a girl for his wife that he'd known so little of, and not having any wedding-breakfast, or any thing regular, I don't know!" "But why is Geoffrey to be pitied, mother?" "Why? Why, because his wife doesn't love him, my dear! Now you know it!" "O, mother, for Heaven's sake don't say such a thing! You know you're--you won't mind what I say, dearest mother,--but you're a little apt to jump at conclusions, and--" "O yes, I know, my dear; I know I'm a perfect fool!--I know that well enough; and if I don't, it's not for want of being reminded of it by my own daughter. But I know I'm right in what I say; and what's more, my son shall know it before long." "O, mother, you would never tell Geoff!--you would never--"