did not know that she resembled them. She had nothing but Margaret's
welfare in view. Nothing but that and her own. Her own though came
first.

She raised the fan. "My dear, you misjudge me. I always said that he is
a good young man and I stick to it. He is good, far too good, too good
to be true." With that, lowering the fan, she produced a trump.
"Downstairs, a moment ago, he told me so."

Margaret gasped. "He told you--he told you----"

"Precisely. That is just what he did tell me."

Margaret straightened. "I don't believe it."

Mrs. Austen waved at her. "Oh, I don't mean that he has deceived you. He
has done nothing of the kind. It is you who have deceived yourself. That
was to be expected. At your age I deceived myself quite as thoroughly. I
thought your father a conquering hero and he was merely a bore. But he
pointed a moral, though he adorned no tale. He married to settle down.
That is this young man's idea and I must give him credit for the fact
that while he has not deceived you, he did deceive me. I thought him a
tedious person; whereas, not a bit of it. He is exceedingly lively. If
he keeps it up, his wife will be blessed among women. But that is just
it. He won't keep it up. He swore he would not and I believe him. He has
turned over a new leaf. I can't cry over it, but it is really too bad."

Margaret, who had straightened, stiffened. "If I believed a word of what
you tell me, I would forgive him entirely."

Mrs. Austen, unprepared for that, leaned forward. "My dear, I had no
idea you were so sensible."

"I would forgive entirely," Margaret continued. "But I would never see
him again."

How good that tasted! Mrs. Austen swallowed it contentedly. "Of course
you will see him. You are not going blind, I suppose. But when you do
see him, it will be only decent of you to ignore the matter which is not
a fit subject for you to discuss."

Margaret, who had straightened and stiffened, now was rigid. "I
certainly shall ignore it. It is not worth talking about."

Mrs. Austen leaned back. "Ah, my dear, how right you are. He could not
tell you that he had loved wisely, it would not be very flattering. He
could not say he had loved too well, for that would be embarrassing.
What a pretty frock you have on. Did Marguerite make it? Of course he
could not. It would not be nice at all. But to me he made a soiled
breast of it. Don't you think the skirt a bit too long? Stand up a
minute."

Margaret coloured ag