"I was bored," returned Harriet as shortly as before. This was conclusive, and an ominous silence prevailed. Margaret feared that Harriet was mortally offended with her, and began to think that her threat of leaving Singleton Manor the next day might come to be put in practice. She felt constrained--distressed. There was not light enough to see Harriet's face, and she hardly knew how to end her suspense. At last she timidly put her hand into that of her wilful friend. Harriet snatched hold of it, and pressed it suddenly to her lips. Margaret was almost affected to tears by this little incident. She hoped that the storm had blown over, but she was satisfied that, at least, Harriet's displeasure did not extend to her. As soon as the carriage door was opened, Harriet sprang out without waiting for the steps to be let down, and dashed through the hall into the drawing-room. Mr. Singleton saying something about "a storm brewing," handed Margaret out and followed his niece. She took up her night-candle, nodded to her uncle and beckoned Margaret to follow her. As soon as she reached her dressing-room, she began in silence to take off her ornaments from her dress and hair. Then she held out her hand at a little distance, and watched it for a few moments with great attention. It trembled. "Margaret, ma mie," said she, raising her head. "I am going to be ill; will you mind sleeping with me for once?" Margaret willingly gave her consent. Harriet stooped over her desk, and hastily wrote a few lines on a scrap of paper. "If I am hors-de-combat to-morrow, Margaret," she said, "give this to Mr. Gage." A stamp of her slender foot, as she pronounced his name, was the only indication of feeling that she betrayed. Margaret really did not know if it was a cartel of defiance, but she thought it better to promise compliance. "Then kiss me, ma mie, and go to sleep," said Harriet, "we will talk over our adventures to-morrow." CHAPTER VI. _Mar._ Yes, a letter. She brings no challenge sure. THE MAID IN THE MILL. _Val._ He must not then be angry That loses her. _Gom._ Oh! that were Sir, unworthy. _Mir._ A little sorrow he may find. _Val._ 'Tis manly. THE KNIGHT OF MALTA. The next morning Harriet was in a high fever. Mr. Singleton said she had nobody to thank for it but herself. She had no business at a ball when she was suffering from a severe cold, unless she had chosen to go in a fur cloak. That he wondered how any ladies escaped without catching their death at such places; and that he hoped the servant who was gone for the doctor would not be an hour on the road. Margaret seriously alarmed about her friend, had been making the breakfast in silence, until Mr. Singleton's attack upon Harriet led her to say, with tearful eyes, that she believed Harriet had gone to the ball entirely on her account, and that she felt so very sorry she had not more decidedly opposed it.