, whoever it is. Wish I didn't turn over so
easily."

Margaret went into the house singing, with a lighter heart than she had
felt since Uncle John's letter came. Perhaps she had made a friend; at
any rate, a pleasant acquaintance. What a frank, nice, gentlemanly--boy!
"For he is a boy, just as he says!" she acknowledged to herself. And
what kind, honest eyes he had; and how thoughtful to offer to help her
with the children!

Her pleasant meditations were harshly interrupted. Miss Sophronia came
down-stairs, with her brown and yellow shawl drawn over her shoulders;
this, Margaret had learned, was a bad sign.

"Margaret, who was that young man? I saw you! There is no use in
attempting to conceal anything from me, my dear. I saw you talking with
a young man at the gate."

"Why should I conceal it?" asked Margaret, wondering. "It was Mr.
Merryweather, Cousin Sophronia. He was a schoolmate of Uncle John's,--I
mean his father was."

"Stuff and nonsense!" cried the lady, sharply. "Don't tell me anything
of the kind, miss. He was a common workman, a day-labourer. I tell you I
saw him! Do you suppose I have no eyes in my head? I shall consider it
my duty to tell your uncle as soon as he comes home. I am surprised at
you, Margaret. I thought at least you were discreet. William's daughters
would no more think of talking with such a person--but that comes of
leaving a young person alone here with servants. My dear, I shall make
it a point henceforward--"

She stopped; for the gentle Margaret turned upon her with eyes of fire.
"Cousin Sophronia, I cannot listen to this; I will not listen! I am a
gentlewoman, and must be spoken to as a gentlewoman. I am eighteen years
old, and am accountable to no one except Uncle John for my behaviour.
Let me pass, please! I want to go to my room."

The girl swept by, her head high, her cheeks burning with righteous
wrath. Miss Sophronia gazed after her speechless; it was as if a dove
had ruffled its wings and flown in her face. "Ungrateful girl!" said the
lady to herself. "I never meet with anything but ingratitude wherever I
go. She is as bad as those girls of William's, for all her soft looks.
The human heart is very, very depraved. But I shall do my duty, in spite
of everything."

CHAPTER XI.

THE SECOND CONQUEST.

The boys came home late for tea that night, bubbling over with joy.
Basil declared that they did not want any supper. "Mrs. Peyton gave us
some of her supper. I