"No, thank you very much, how beautifully you play," said Miss Campbell, making way for her. Some one moved a chair out of her path, it was Mr. Haveloc. She bowed, glided quietly across the room, and sank into a chair, heart-sick. Mr. Haveloc, who had followed her, leaned against a table by her side. She felt so humbled now that she knew the real motives of his conduct, that she did not venture to lift up her eyes, but sat with her hands clasped listlessly in her lap, trying to feel calm and composed. He remained silent for a few moments, finding it as difficult as she did, to be calm. "I did not know you, yesterday, Miss Capel," he said at last, "at least, not till I had put you in the carriage. I am very near-sighted." To tell her so! This was, indeed, proclaiming that he had forgotten all their former intimacy. She looked up, trying to speak. There was a pause. He stood playing with his eye-glass; he seemed to have something else to say, and Margaret only hoped he would make haste, for she felt as if she could not bear up much longer. At last he said in a very low tone: "We can never be entire strangers to each other; we have one memory between us--the memory of your uncle." Margaret tried to reply in vain. She was trembling so much, that she feared she should fall from her chair. Mrs. Fitzpatrick came up to her at the moment. "Come, my child," she said, "I must send you to bed early until you are quite strong again. Good night." Margaret rose, gave a bow in passing to Mr. Haveloc, without daring to raise her eyes, and made her way through the officers who were standing round Harriet. Mrs. Gage relating to them the history of the altar-cloth, and the officers laughing almost into convulsions, and declaring that Mrs. Gage and the altar-cloth would certainly be the death of all of them. CHAPTER XIII. _Mary._ Why thinks King Henry's son that Margaret's love Hangs in the uncertain balance of proud time? That death shall make a discord of our thoughts? GREENE. Faithe is the first, and principally to tell, And verie love requirith soche credence, That eche beleve othir true as the gospel, In true menyng and trustie confidence. THE X COMMANDMENTS OF LOVE. Margaret had promised to breakfast with Harriet every day in the Oratory. When she went in the next morning, the room was vacant; the table spread, the urn steaming, the tea made, and newspapers laid ready. She took up one and seated herself to wait. Presently she heard voices in the passage which divided the Oratory from Harriet's room. The speakers were Harriet and Everard Gage. "Why do you interfere with me?" said Everard, in a tone that would have been cross but for the exertion. "Because you are a slug," was Harriet's flattering reply, "I gave you every chance for two days, and now I will take her away from you. You shall not have her." "A man can't make an offer in two days," said Everard.