Margaret Maliphant

								

can't think you would really refuse such a true and honest man for
Joyce."
"Well, then, Mary, look here; you be quite sure that I shall never
consent to my daughter marrying a man who must come down a peg in the
eyes of the world to wed her," began he, raising his voice again, and
speaking very slowly.
He looked mother keenly in the face, but he got no further than that,
for I emerged from the jam-cupboard with a pot in my hand; and at the
same time Deborah flung open the door and announced Squire Broderick.
Mother put down her skirt quickly and father sank back in his chair.
There was an anxious look upon the squire's face which puzzled me, but
he tried to laugh and look like himself as he shook hands with us.
"You mustn't speak so loud, Maliphant, you mustn't speak so loud, if
you want to keep things a secret," laughed he. "Marrying? Who is going
to be married, if you please?"
Mother blushed, and even father looked uncomfortable.
"We were only talking of possibilities, squire, very remote
possibilities," said he. "The women are fond of taking time by the
forelock in such matters, you know. But now we'll give over such
nonsense, and bring our minds to something more sensible. You wanted to
see me?"
"Yes," answered the squire. "And I have only a few minutes. My nephew
leaves to-morrow, and we have some little affairs to attend to."
"Your nephew leaves to-morrow!" cried I, aghast. They all turned round
and looked at me, and I felt myself blush.
"He never said so when he was here this afternoon," I added, hurriedly,
with a little nervous laugh.
"No, I don't suppose he knew it when we were here," answered the
squire, evidently ignorant of the captain's second visit alone. "He had
a telegram from his mother this evening, begging him to return home at
once."
I said no more, and Squire Broderick turned to father. "Can you give me
a few minutes?" asked he.
Father rose. It vexed me to see that he rose with some difficulty. He
was evidently sadly stiff again, and it vexed me that the squire should
see it. Without uttering a word, he led the way to his business-room.
I remained where I was, with the jam-pot in my hand, looking at mother,
who sat by the fire knitting. There was a little smile upon her lips
that annoyed me immensely.
"I think I ought to tell you, mother, that I was behind the
jam-cupboard door while you and father were talking, and that I heard
what you said," said I, suddenly.
"Well, of course I did not expect you to come intruding where you were
not wanted, Margaret," said mother; "but I don't know that it matters.
I'm not ashamed of what I said."
"Of course not," answered I; "and I've guessed you had that notion in
your head these months past."
"I don't know, I'm sure, what business you had to guess," said mother.
"It wasn't your place, that I can see."
"And I may as well tell you that I'm quite sure Joyce would never think