t--the street-car will bring you within a
block of our door. These little trifles count, dear. And don't let
Celestine pack your things, because she's abominably careless. Let
Marie do it--and don't tip her. Give her an old hat. And if I were
you, I would certainly consult a lawyer about the legality of that
idiotic will. I remember distinctly hearing that Mr. Woods was very
eccentric in his last days, and I haven't a doubt he was raving mad
when, he left all his money to a great, strapping, long-legged young
fellow, who is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Getting
better, is he? Well, I suppose I'm glad to hear it, but he'd much
better have stayed in Paris--where, I remember distinctly hearing, he
led the most dissipated and immoral life, my dear--instead of coming
over here and upsetting everything." And again Mrs. Haggage rubbed her
nose--indignantly.

"He _didn't_!" said Margaret. "And I _can't_ take your money,
beautiful! And I don't see how we can possibly come to stay with you."

"Don't you argue with me!" Mrs. Haggage exhorted her. "I'm not in any
temper to be argued with. I've spent the morning sewing bias
stripes in a bias skirt--something which from a moral-ruining and
resolution-overthrowing standpoint simply knocks the spots off Job.
You'll take that money, and you'll come to me as soon as you can,
and--God bless you, my dear!"

And again Margaret was kissed. Altogether, it was a very osculatory
morning for Miss Hugonin.

Mr. Jukesbury's adieus, however, were more formal; and--I am sorry to
say it--the old fellow went away wondering if the rich Mr. Woods might
not conceivably be very grateful to the man who had saved his life and
evince his gratitude in some agreeable and substantial form.

Mrs. Saumarez and Mr. Kennaston, also, were somewhat unenthusiastic in
their parting. Kennaston could not feel quite at ease with Margaret,
brazen it as he might with devil-may-carish flippancy; and Kathleen
had by this an inkling as to how matters stood between Margaret and
Billy, and was somewhat puzzled thereat, and loved the former in
consequence no more than any Christian female is compelled to love the
woman who, either unconsciously or with deliberation, purloins her
ancient lover. A woman rarely forgives the man who has ceased to care
for her; and rarelier still can she pardon the woman who has dared
succeed her in his affections.

And besides, they were utterly engrossed with one another, and u