hooses to ask for."

"But I don't want to ask for anything."

"But if what we heard last night is all true, there's somebody else
that does want to ask for something, or, as has asked, as folks say."

Margaret blushed up to the eyes, and then protested that she did not
know what Mrs Buggins meant.

"I never dreamed of it, my dear; indeed, I didn't, when the old lady
come here with her tantrums; but now, it's as plain as a pikestaff.
If I'd a' known anything about that, my dear, I shouldn't have made
so free about Buggins; indeed, I shouldn't."

"You're talking nonsense, Mrs Buggins; indeed, you are."

"They have the whole story all over the town at any rate, and in the
lane, and all about the courts; and they declare it don't matter a
toss of a halfpenny which way the matter goes, as you're to become
Lady Ball the very moment the case is settled."

Miss Mackenzie protested that Mrs Buggins was a stupid woman,--the
stupidest woman she had ever heard or seen; and then hurried up into
her own room to hug herself in her joy, and teach herself to believe
that what so many people said must at last come true.

Three days after this, a very fine, private carriage, with two
servants on a hammer cloth, drove up to the door in Arundel Street,
and the maid-servant, hurrying upstairs, told Miss Mackenzie that
a beautifully-dressed lady downstairs was desirous of seeing her
immediately.

CHAPTER XXVI

Mrs Mackenzie of Cavendish Square

"My dear," said the beautifully-dressed lady, "you don't know me, I
think;" and the beautifully-dressed lady came up to Miss Mackenzie
very cordially, took her by the hand, smiled upon her, and seemed to
be a very good-natured person indeed. Margaret told the lady that
she did not know her, and at that moment was altogether at a loss to
guess who the lady might be. The lady might be forty years of age,
but was still handsome, and carried with her that easy, self-assured,
well balanced manner, which, if it be not overdone, goes so far to
make up for beauty, if beauty itself be wanting.

"I am your cousin, Mrs Mackenzie,--Clara Mackenzie. My husband
is Walter Mackenzie, and his father is Sir Walter Mackenzie, of
Incharrow. Now you will know all about me."

"Oh, yes, I know you," said Margaret.

"I ought, I suppose, to make ever so many apologies for not coming to
you before; but I did call upon you, ever so long ago; I forget when,
and after that you went to live at Littlebath.