"Didn't give her enough to eat, I dare say!" exclaimed Mr. Casement. "Quite enough, Sir," replied Margaret; "but I felt I was wasting my time there." "Ay!" cried Mr. Casement, delighted at the reply; "no young sparks there, eh? No inamoratos! A little in the convent style, is it not? Ugly old music master, ditto drawing, and dancing taught by a lady!" "Don't mind him, my dear," said Mr. Grey, taking Margaret's hand in his, "tell me about it." Although the indignant blood flashed fast over neck and brow, Margaret made no answer to Mr. Casement, but turned to Mr. Grey. "I was learning words all day, Sir," she replied, "and music; they gave me no time for thinking. I should be sorry if there was no more to learn than what they teach at school." "You will have plenty of time here for thinking, little woman," said Mr. Casement, "for hardly a soul ever crosses his threshold; but I am afraid you will have nobody to think about, if you have not a spark already, I don't know where you are to find one. Such a neighbourhood for young men!" "There are as many young men hereabouts as there are in other places, I suppose," said Mr. Grey. "What has become of the young Gages?" "He lives in the Ark," said Mr. Casement, pointing to Mr. Grey. "The Gages are all flown. George is in Ireland, and Everard in Canada, and Hubert I hope from my heart at the bottom of the sea! But they won't do for you, my dear, naughty, swearing troopers. You don't like troopers, do you?" "I don't know any, Sir," returned Margaret. "I thought Hubert Gage was a sailor?" said Mr. Grey. "Right as my glove," said Mr. Casement, "so he is, I forgot. I hate the Gages. George Gage drew a caricature of me; and Everard used to take me off to my face; and Hubert, he used to bolt out of my way as if I was poison. I have known him jump out of the parlour window as I came in at the door." Margaret found nothing singular in the conduct of the young Gages, she only wondered what a caricature of Mr. Casement could be like. "The only one of the family worth any thing is Elizabeth. I mean Elizabeth for my second," said Mr. Casement. This remark let Margaret into the secret that he had one wife to begin with, a thing she would otherwise have thought impossible. "Though I don't know, now I have seen you," he said turning to Margaret. "Casement, be quiet; you shall not teaze my child," said Mr. Grey, drawing Margaret towards him as he marked the angry flush again rise to her brow. Neither of them were prepared for what followed--she burst into a passion of tears. Mr. Grey passed his hand over her hair, and pressed her closer to him. Mr. Casement was confused. "I am really very sorry I have made you cry--I am, indeed," he said. "You did not, Sir," returned Margaret, becoming calm by a single effort, and wiping the tears from her bright eyes. "What was it then, my darling?" asked Mr. Grey.