Margaret Maliphant

								

a deal older than you are, but I never should have thought she had a
grown-up son--and a captain, too!"
"Oh yes, he's a captain," repeated the squire, and he took up his
hat and stick from the corner of the room and put his hand on the
door-knob. "Good-bye, Mr. Maliphant," cried he, cheerily, without
touching any more on the sore subject.
Father did not reply, and he turned to me and held out his hand.
"Good-bye," he said, more seriously than it seemed to me the subject
required. "I'm sorry the mare reared."
"See the squire to the door, Joyce," said the mother. And Joyce,
blushing again, glided out into the hall and lifted the big latch.

CHAPTER V.

I was dying to hear what had been the subject of the difference
between Squire Broderick and father, for that it was somehow related
to something more closely allied to our own life than mere politics, I
was inwardly convinced. I came up to the fireplace and began toasting
my feet before the bars. I hoped father would say something. But he
did not even turn to me, and Deborah coming in with the dinner at that
moment, mother took her place at the head of the table, and father
asked a blessing. Mother did not look sad; she looked very bright and
pretty, with the sunshine falling on her silvery hair, and on her
white dimpled hands, lovely hands, that were wielding the carvers so
skilfully. I thought at the time that she did not notice father's
gloomy face, but I think it is far more likely that she did notice it,
but that she thought it wiser to leave him alone; those were always her
tactics.
"Father," began she, as soon as she had served us all and had sat down,
"the girls mustn't drive that mare any more if she rears; it isn't
safe."
"No, no, of course not," assented father, absently. Then turning to me,
"What made her rear, Meg?"
"I don't know, father," answered I. "I was in a shop when she did, and
a boy was holding her. I suppose he teased her. But it's not worth
talking about; it would have been nothing if Joyce hadn't been so
easily frightened."
"I couldn't help it," murmured Joyce. "I know I'm silly."
"Well, to be sure, any old cart-horse would be better for you than a
beast with any spirit, wouldn't it?" laughed I.
"Well, Margaret, the animal must have looked dangerous, you know," said
mother, "for no strange gentleman would have thought of accosting two
girls unless he saw they were really in need of help."
I laughed--I am afraid I laughed. I thought mother was so very innocent.
"I hope you thanked him for his trouble," added she. "Being the
squire's nephew, as it seems he was, I shouldn't be pleased to think
you treated him as short as you sometimes treat strangers. You,
Margaret, I mean," added mother, looking at me.
"Oh yes, we were very polite to him," said I. And then I grew very
hot. Of course I knew I was bound to say that Captain Forrester had
driven us home. I hoped mother would take it kindly, as she seemed well