"Now, Peggy," he began protestingly, then he too laughed. "I am the unworthy one," he acknowledged humbly. "I did feel a pang that you people should know him so well, and I not know it." "Fie, Robert! As though we had not room in our hearts for many friends. Each hath his own peculiar nook, and thou hast thine." CHAPTER XX A SLIGHT EMPHASIS ON "THAT" "Of all the numerous ills that hurt our peace, That press the soul, or wring the mind with anguish, Beyond comparison, the worst are those Which to our folly or our guilt we owe." --_John Strange Winter._ "And you will take Peggy and me to see Clifford this morning, won't you, Cousin David?" Harriet smiled brightly over the breakfast table at David Owen as she spoke. Despite the long journey the girls had awakened betimes, and appeared looking so radiant and so thoroughly wholesome that Mr. Owen had declared that they surpassed the morning itself in brightness. "Thou wilt have to wait until about noon, Harriet," he answered smiling at her kindly. "I have some work which must be attended to first. When that is done I shall be at thy service." "And when thee does go, Harriet, try to persuade thy brother to give his parole, that he may visit us," exclaimed Mrs. Owen. "I quite long to see the lad, and John said that there was no reason why he should not be at large, if he would but give his word not to go beyond the limits of the town." "I'll make Clifford see reason," said Harriet confidently. "He doesn't like John Drayton, and therefore does not wish to accept any favor from him." "But why should he dislike him, lass? Drayton hath been kindness itself to him." "You see, Cousin David," explained Harriet with a charming blush, "Clifford cannot rid himself of the idea that Captain Drayton may have been in favor with me. Once I made a shirt which I gave to the captain in sport. It seems that he twitted Clifford about it, and Clifford tore the garment up. I believe they came to blows over the matter, and there hath been bad feeling between them ever since." "That would explain many things," spoke Mr. Owen musingly. "There is certainly strong dislike on Clifford's part. Thou art sure that thou hast given no cause for the feeling, lass?" "Why, I dislike John Drayton extremely, Cousin David. He wears his beaver in what he supposes is a jaunty fashion over his right eye, and he swaggers when he walks. How could one show him favor?" Mr. Owen laughed.