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"I will not say anything," said Janetta.
And then Lady Caroline's desire for conversation seemed to cease. She proposed that they should go in search of her daughter, and Janetta followed her to the conservatory in some trouble and perplexity of mind.
It struck her that Margaret was not looking very well pleased when they arrived--perhaps, she thought, because of their appearance--and that Sir Philip had a very lover-like air. He was bending forward a little to take a white flower from Margaret's hand, and Janetta could not help a momentary smile when she saw the expression of his face. The earnest dark eyes were full of tenderness, which possibly he did not wish to conceal. Janetta could never doubt but that he loved her "rare pale Margaret" from the very bottom of his heart.
The two moved apart as Lady Caroline and Janetta came in. Lady Caroline advanced to Sir Philip and walked away with him, while Margaret laid her hand on Janetta's arm and led her off to her own sitting-room. She scarcely spoke until they were safely ensconced there together and then, with a half-pouting, mutinous expression on her softly flushed face--
"Janetta," she began, "there is something I must tell you."
"Yes, dear?"
"You saw Sir Philip in the conservatory?"
"Yes."
"I can't think why he is so foolish," said Margaret; "but actually, Janetta--he wants to marry me."
"Am I to call him foolish for that?"
"Yes, certainly. I am too young. I want to see a little more of the world. He is not at all the sort of man that I want to marry."
"Why not?" said Janetta, after waiting a little while.
"Oh," said Margaret, with an intonation that--for her--was almost petulant; "he is so absurdly suitable!"
"_Absurdly_ suitable, dear Margaret?"
"Yes. Everything is so neatly arranged for us. He is the right age, he has the right income, the right views, the right character--he is even"--said Margaret, with increasing indignation--"even the right _height_! It is absurd. I am not to have any will of my own in the matter, because it is all so beautifully suitable. I am to be disposed of like a slave!"
Here was indeed a new note of rebellion.
"Your father and mother would never make you marry a man whom you did not like," said Janetta, a little doubtfully.
"I don't know. Papa would not; but mamma!----I am afraid mamma will try.
And it is very hard to do what mamma does not like."
"But you could explain to her----"
"I have nothing to explain," said Margaret, arching her delicate brows.
"I like Sir Philip very well. I respect him very much. I think his house and his position would suit me exceedingly well; and yet I do not want to marry him. It is so unreasonable of me, mamma says. And I feel that it is; and yet--what can I do?"
"There is--n.o.body--else?" hazarded Janetta.
Margaret opened her lovely eyes to their fullest extent.
"Dearest Janetta, who else could there be? Who else have I seen? I have been kept in the schoolroom until now--when I am to be married to this most suitable man! Now, confess, Janetta, would you like it? Do your people want to marry you to anybody?"
"No, indeed," said Janetta, smiling. "n.o.body has expressed any desire that way. But really I don't know what to say, Margaret; because Sir Philip does seem so perfectly suitable--and you say you like him?"
"Yes, but I only like him; I don't love him." Margaret leaned back in her chair, crossed her hands behind her golden head, and looked dreamily at the opposite wall. "You know I think one ought to love the man one marries--don't you think so? I have always thought of loving once and once only--like Paul and Virginia, you know, or even Romeo and Juliet--and of giving _all_ for love! That would be beautiful!"
"Yes, it would. But it would be very hard too," said Janetta, thinking how lovely Margaret looked, and what a heroine of romance--what a princess of dreams--she would surely be some day. And she, poor, plain, brown, little Janetta! There was probably no romance in store for her at all.
But Life holds many secrets in her hand; and perhaps it was Janetta and not Margaret for whom a romance was yet in store.
"Hard? Do you call it hard?" Margaret asked, with a curiously exalted expression, like that of a saint absorbed in mystic joys. "It would be most easy, Janetta, to give up everything for love."
"I don't know," said Janetta--for once unsympathetic. "Giving up everything means a great deal. Would you like to go away from Helmsley Court, for instance, and live in a dingy street with no lady's maid--only a servant of all-work--on three hundred a year?"
"I think I could do anything for a man whom I loved," sighed Margaret; "but I cannot feel as if I should ever care enough for Sir Philip Ashley to do it for him."
"What sort of a man would you prefer for a husband, then?" asked Janetta.
"Oh, a man with a history. A man about whom there hung a melancholy interest--a man like Rochester in 'Jane Eyre'----"
"Not a very good-tempered person, I'm afraid!"
"Oh, who cares about good temper?"
"I do, for one. Really, Margaret, you draw a picture which is just like my cousin, Wyvis Brand."
Janetta was sorry when she had said the words. Margaret's arms came down from behind her head, and her eyes were turned to her friend's face with an immediate awakening of interest.
"Mr. Brand, of Brand Hall, you mean? I remember you told me that he was your cousin. So you have met him? And he is like Rochester?"
"I did not say that exactly," said Janetta, becoming provoked with herself. "I only said that you spoke of a rather melancholy sort of man, with a bad temper, and I thought that the description applied very well to Mr. Brand."
"What is he like? Dark?"
"Yes."
"Handsome?"
"I suppose so. I do not like any face, however handsome, that is disfigured by a scowl."
"Oh, Janetta, how charming! Tell me some more about him; I am so much interested."
"Margaret, don't be silly! Wyvis Brand is a very disagreeable man--not a good man either, I believe--and I hope you will never know him."
"On the contrary," said Margaret, with a new wilful light in her eyes, "I intend mamma to call."
"Lady Caroline will be too wise."
"Why should people not call upon the Brands? I hear the same story everywhere--'Oh, no, we do not intend to call.' Is there really anything wrong about them?"
Janetta felt some embarra.s.sment. Had not she put nearly the same question to her own father the night before? But she could not tell Margaret Adair what her father had said to her.
"If there were--and I do not know that there is--you could hardly expect me to talk about it, Margaret," she said, with some dignity.
Margaret's good breeding came to her aid at once. "I beg your pardon, dear Janetta. I was talking carelessly. I will say no more about the Brands. But I must remark that it was _you_ who piqued my curiosity.