"Oh, don't," Margaret cried, passionately. "It was mean of her to tell you, for she heard everything I said to him--" "Well, never mind," he answered, in a consoling voice, "we've done with him, haven't we? But you know, Margaret," he added, falling into the familiar address without being aware of it, "you can't go on staying in rooms in London by yourself; and as for going on the stage, why it's all nonsense. I am very impertinent to say it, of course; but you see our fathers knew each other all their lives, so you must look upon me as an old friend. It's a great bore the Lakemans being in Scotland; you might have stayed with them--" "No, I couldn't." "Why not? Mrs. Lakeman is a good sort. Lena is a bit of a bore, of course"--a remark which, for some unknown reason, brought exultation to Margaret's heart. "As for being an actress, why you know it's all nonsense--don't look so offended." His voice would have been tender if he had not checked it. "People often come to grief in London--things are too much for them." "I am not offended," she answered; "but if things are too much for me I suppose I must bear it as others have done; after all, the soldier who falls on the battle-field is more to be envied than if he dies in his native village." "I should think you have done a good deal of reading; that sounds like it, you know," at which they laughed, like the boy and girl they were. "I wish you'd go back," he half entreated. "But I won't," she said, obstinately. "Then let me wire to the Lakemans and ask if they can have you?" "I wouldn't for the world." "You are very positive. And you mean to say that you are bent on this stage business?" "Yes; I'm bent on it," and she told him of her visit to Mr. Farley in the morning and of the two rehearsals. He got up and walked about. He was worried, of course--he felt that he ought to be worried--but he was so happy at hearing that there was nothing between her and Mr. Garratt that he found it difficult to be serious. "I wish I could make you see," he said, "that you are only taking the bread out of other people's mouths. When I get into the House I shall make bread-snatching a penal offence, and send you to prison." "Bread-snatching! What do you mean?"