‘Tush! he is not of that sort. He has much too high an opinion of his own value to throw himself away—into the river, for instance. That such an idea should have entered your mind, however, shows what an unstable fellow you think him; and in some ways—though not in that way—he _is_ unstable. He is but a boy, after all, and a spoilt boy. I take blame to myself that I suffered him to entertain the delusion that he was fit to take to himself a wife. It was conditional indeed upon certain contingencies which have not taken place, so that the whole affair is null and void.’ ‘Uncle!’ Margaret rose from her chair, and with white face and flashing eyes confronted the old man. ‘Of course it’s null and void,’ he went on, flattening the tobacco in his pipe with its stopper, and affecting an indifferent air. ‘A bargain’s a bargain, though indeed, as I have said, it is one that I should never have entered into in any case, but the mere vulgar question of ways and means now puts an end to the matter. Of course he looked for material results from the “Vortigern.“ It will now not keep the stage another night, while the publication of the play is rendered worthless. It is not his fault, of course; I don’t blame him. It is not in mortals to command success. There is nothing for him now but to return to the conveyancing business; and in ten years or so there is no knowing but that he may step into old Bingley’s shoes.’ ‘And I?’ cried Margaret bitterly. ‘What am I to do? To wait for him?’ ‘Certainly not; that would be hopeless indeed. The best thing you can possibly do just at present is to—I shall make arrangements for his lodging elsewhere out of harm’s way—is to begin to forget all about him.’ ‘Forget him—forget Willie? How can I?’ ‘By thinking of somebody else,’ returned the antiquary coolly: ‘that I have heard is the best way. At all events it will have to be done.’ ‘Do you think then a woman’s heart is like a seal, uncle, on which an image is impressed, and which, held to some fierce flame—as mine seems to be, Heaven help me, this moment—it straightway becomes a blank ready for the reception of another image? Oh, no, no, I will wait ten years for Willie, if it be necessary, but I will never forget him.’ ‘He’ll forget _you_ in half the time,’ was the dry rejoinder. ‘You speak falsely as well as cruelly, uncle,’ said Margaret passionately. There had been a time when even passion could not have nerved her to speak so boldly to the antiquary; and there had been a time when if she had dared to do so the old man would have put down his foot upon such passion and crunched the sparks out. But just now Margaret was too full of her misery and the sense of wrong to care what she said, while her uncle on his part, though he was fully resolved to put an end to his niece’s engagement with William Henry, could not at once resume the relative position to her he had occupied before it was mooted.