"But who is to find us out?" persisted Margaret. "Mrs. Murray has never seen me, and Mrs. Danvers has never seen you. Why, if they were here now they could not tell which was which. Oh, Eleanor, do go to Windy Gap instead of me, and let me go to your house. Think of the Italian lessons, and the singing lessons. Why, Eleanor, it is the opportunity of your lifetime, it is really. This is probably the turning-point of your whole life? I am surprised that you cannot realise that." "I do realise it," Eleanor said almost fiercely. "Do you suppose for an instant that I can't see what an opportunity is being offered to me? But what I also see is how very wrong it would be." "Yes, I suppose it would be rather wrong," Margaret said calmly; "but, after all, we would not be doing any one any harm, and I am so tired of being treated just like a little girl and as though I had no opinions or will of my own." "Well, I think when your grandfather hears of this escapade he won't be under that delusion concerning you any longer," Eleanor said rather drily. "Then you will do it?" Margaret cried eagerly. It was her turn now to jump up and pace the room restlessly. "Oh, say quickly you will do it, for I find this suspense very trying. Please, please, Eleanor, do not say No. Just think how dull and dreary my life has always been, and do not deprive me of the chance of having just a little enjoyment like other girls of my age." The implication that sheer selfishness only made her hold out against this scheme struck Eleanor as being distinctly funny. "But I don't suppose for a minute there is going to be much enjoyment for me at Seabourne," Eleanor protested. "Mrs. Danvers said I must be prepared to work pretty hard." "Well, I shall like that as long as it is not lessons," Margaret said quickly. "Why, even to see other people and to watch them, and to listen to them talking will be enjoyment for me. And think of Madame Martelli and the singing lessons." "I am thinking of them," Eleanor returned desperately, "and I am trying hard not to." Then all of a sudden her resolution gave way. It had been too unequal a fight to last very long, for there were too many forces arrayed against her conscience to give it a fair chance of gaining the day. Margaret's persuasions counted for little really, but the thought of the lessons was, of course, all-powerful with her, and there was, too, a spice of adventure about the scheme that appealed strongly to her high-spirited, mischief-loving nature. "But it's on you that the trouble will fall in the end, Margaret," she warned her. "When we are found out I shall be turned out of the house as an imposter, of course, but that will be all that can happen to me. It's you who will have to bear the brunt of both Mrs. Murray's anger and of your grandfather's."