"It is such a plague to me, Mr. Haveloc coming," said Margaret. "It spoils everything. I cannot talk to my uncle, or play the organ, or do anything so comfortably now that he is in the house. I cannot stand on the library steps, and read from the shelves;--perhaps you would laugh at this, but you don't know the difference it makes." "I can very well understand that it does," said Miss Gage, "but Mr. Haveloc's society is a great happiness to your uncle, and you must weigh that against the embarrassment he makes you feel." "So I ought," said Margaret. "I recollect when I knew him, several years ago," said Miss Gage, "although he possessed great powers of pleasing where he was intimate, yet he was a little too reserved in general society." "And I am sure he is very proud!" said Margaret, eagerly. Miss Gage laughed at this remark, and made no attempt to exculpate him from the charge: she merely added that she thought him very much altered in appearance, but that a person of his character would be less troublesome as an inmate, to her, than one of a more sociable disposition, since she would very rarely be obliged to enter into conversation with him. Margaret agreed to this, and the subject was dropped. Now, had Miss Gage chosen to exercise her wit by jesting with Margaret upon her timidity instead of calmly talking it over, she would have confirmed her in a silly bashfulness, as much opposed as possible to real modesty. As it was, she felt a sort of composure from having _talked through_ a subject she rather dreaded to mention; and her feelings acquired an equilibrium, that very much added to her comfort when she again encountered the person in question. But how few people could have resisted the pleasure of laughing at a young girl about any young man who might chance to be staying in the house. Mr. Warde came to dinner. Margaret was very glad to see him; but there was so much to be talked over between him and Mr. Haveloc, that there was little time for her to make any historical enquiries. The conversation did not prevent Mr. Haveloc from being very attentive to her, as far as actions went. He took the carving out of her hands--saw that she had every thing she wanted--directed the screen to be altered which protected her but imperfectly from the fire, and mentioned to her that Richards had brought a whole forest of azalias into the library while she was taking her drive; with which piece of information he began and ended his discourse. She learned, during dinner, that he was very near-sighted, which circumstance gave her great satisfaction. The certainty that he could not distinguish her across the table, unless he took up his glass, which she had never seen him do, gave her a confidence and a feeling of freedom, which removed one strong objection she had felt to his presence.