ceived, and her castle in the
air to come tumbling down about her ears.

CHAPTER XVI.

SIR PHILIP'S OPINION.

"Is anything the matter?" said Lady Caroline, suavely.

She had been undecided for a minute as to whether she had not better
withdraw unseen, but the distressed expression on her-daughter's face
decided her to speak. She might at least prevent Margaret from saying
anything foolish.

Sir Philip drew back a little. Margaret went--almost hurriedly--up to
her mother, and put her hand into Lady Caroline's.

"Will you tell him? will you explain to him, please?" she said. "I do
not want to hear any more: I would rather not. We could never understand
each other, and I should be very unhappy."

Sir Philip made an eager gesture, but Lady Caroline silenced him by an
entreating glance and then looked straight into her daughter's eyes.
Their limpid hazel depths were troubled now: tears were evidently very
near, and Lady Caroline detested tears.

"My darling child," she said, "you must not agitate yourself. You shall
hear nothing that you do not want to hear. Sir Philip would never say
anything that would pain you."

"I have asked her to be my wife," said Sir Philip, very quietly, "and I
hope that she will not refuse to hear me say that, at least."

"But that was not all," said Margaret, suddenly turning on him her
grieving eyes--eyes that always looked so much more grieved than their
owner felt--and her flushing, quivering face: "You told me first that I
was wrong--selfish and unjust; and you want me to humiliate myself--to
say that it was my fault----"

"My dearest Margaret!" exclaimed Lady Caroline, in amaze, "what can you
mean? Philip, are we dreaming?--Darling child, come with me to your
room: you had better lie down for a little time while I talk to Sir
Philip. Excuse me a moment, Sir Philip--I will come back."

Margaret allowed herself to be led from the room. This outbreak of
emotion was almost unprecedented in her history; but then Sir Philip had
attacked her on her tenderest side--that of her personal dignity.
Margaret Adair found it very hard to believe that she was as others are,
and not made of a different clay from them.

Some little time elapsed before Lady Caroline's return. She had made
Margaret lie down, administered sal volatile, covered her with an
eiderdown quilt, and seen her maid bathing the girl's forehead with eau
de Cologne and water before she came back again. And all this to