"What is it Claude?" asked Mr. Grey, as soon as Mr. Casement had gone. Mr. Haveloc told him what it was. Margaret laid her head on her uncle's shoulder--he put his arm round her waist. "Well then, Claude," he said, "your best plan is to set off to-morrow morning; the sooner you go, the sooner you will come back." Margaret looked up with a face suddenly blanched even to her lips. "What--go away--leave me, uncle?" she said. Her voice failed her; almost her breath; she had not believed it possible that they should ever be parted. Mr. Grey explained to Margaret as he had before explained to Mr. Haveloc his reasons for insisting on this measure. When he had finished, she burst into one of those paroxysms of tears that she only gave way to under very strong emotion. Mr. Haveloc hung over her chair in speechless distress. Mr. Grey endeavoured in the tenderest manner to moderate her agitation. "You see, my child," he said, "you are but seventeen, and very young for your age; and this fellow here, somewhere about two-and-twenty. It is very important you should both know your own minds a little more clearly than you can do now. In such serious affairs, it is right to be very cautious. You see, my dear little girl, what day of the month is it? You see, a year soon passes; and next 14th of June, he will be here again." Margaret checked her tears, and tried to reward his efforts with a smile. "Well, then, Claude, you and I must have a little conversation together. Wish him good night, my child; you had better part now and not see each other to-morrow morning. It is wisest, is it not Claude? There give her a kiss and have done with it. That's good children!" Margaret was speechless with grief: the last words Mr. Haveloc addressed to her as he led her to the door, were, "If I ever bestow a thought upon another, forget me; I can invoke no heavier curse upon my head." CHAPTER III. _Ansel._ His food--sharp sorrow, ever galling doubt, Fear, that aye nettles near the core of love-- And long suspense that maketh faint the heart; Patience it may be, and much jealousy, And all that fretteth youth to timeless age. _Isa._ And what the recompence? _Ansel._ To sleep awhile; Dreaming of fairy worlds bestrewn with flowers. And close companionship of equal hearts; Warm, faultless, kind, unspotted, human hearts! Of hope so bright, as never felt a care, And love, that if care was, would smile it down. Then wake--like Ariadne on the shore, To battle with the tempest--but alone! ANON. Aveline was up the next morning as early as she had threatened; and with the restlessness peculiar to her complaint, she was not content with a walk to the fisherman's cottage to buy prawns, but when she returned, finding that it still wanted some minutes to breakfast time, she wandered out into the garden, and began working at the flower-beds.