As there was, however, no more said on this subject, and Sir Ludovic was--probably having shaken off something of the heaviness of his mind by putting it in words--as gay as usual at dinner and during the evening, the impression on Margaret’s mind wore off. She had been very unhappy for half an hour or so, then less wretched, then not wretched at all; deciding that it was nothing particular, that it was only some passing cloud or other, or a letter from her brother, or something which had vexed him about “business,” that grand, mysterious source of trouble. Instead of going out that evening, she went down-stairs to where Bell sat in her chair “outside the door,” breathing the quiet of the evening. Bell was full of the excitement of “the view.” “It will be equal to ony picture in a museeum,” said Bell. “To think a creature like _that_, that I mind just a little callant about the doors, should have such a power.” Margaret, however, did not respond at first. Her mind was still occupied with her father, notwithstanding that his demeanor since had wiped much of the alarming impression away. “Do you think papa is quite well?” she said. “Bell, will you tell me true? Do you think anything is the matter with papa?” “The matter with your papa? is he complaining?” said Bell, hastily rising from her chair. “Na, no me, I’ve heard nothing; that’s just the way in this world, the one that ought to ken never kens. Miss Margret, what ails your papa?” “It was me that was asking you, Bell: it was not him that complained; he spoke of--going away: that some day I would leave Earl’s-hall, and some day he--would be gone,” said Margaret, faltering, large tears coming to her eyes. “Was that a’?” said Bell, sitting down again on her chair. “Dyin’ is a thing we a’ think of whiles. Sir Ludovic is just in his ordinary so far as I ken, just as particular about his dinner. No, no, my bonnie dear, you need not fash yoursel’ about what the like of us old folk says. We say whiles mair than we mean; and other times it will come to us to think without any particular occasion (as we aye ought to be thinking) of our latter end.” “Would that be all, Bell?”