“Did you tell your mother, John?” she said, standing very close to him, almost leaning upon his shoulder.

He, however, did not probably want such signs of love as this, and moved a step away from her.

“Yes,” said he, “I told both my father and my mother. What she says to you, you must hear, and bear it quietly for my sake.”

“I will,” said Margaret.

“I think that she is unreasonable, but still she is my mother.”

“I shall always remember that, John.”

“And she is old, and things have not always gone well with her. She says, too, that you have been impertinent to her.”

Margaret’s face became very red at this charge, but she made no immediate reply.

“I don’t think you could mean to be impertinent.”

“Certainly not, John; but, of course, I shall feel myself much more bound to her now than I was before.”

“Yes, of course; but I wish that nothing had occurred to make her so angry with you.”

“I don’t think that I was impertinent, John, though perhaps it might seem so. When she was talking about my being a companion to a lady, I perhaps answered her sharply. I was so determined that I wouldn’t lead that sort of life, that, perhaps I said more than I should have done. You know, John, that it hasn’t been quite pleasant between us for the last few days.”

John did know this, and he knew also that there was not much probability of pleasantness for some days to come. His mother’s last words to him on the preceding evening, as he was leaving her after having told his story, did not give much promise of pleasantness for Margaret. “John,” she had said, “nothing on earth shall induce me to live in the same house with Margaret Mackenzie as your wife. If you choose to break up everything for her sake, you can do it. I cannot control you. But remember, it will be your doing.”

Margaret then asked him what she was to do, and where she was to live. She would fain have asked him when they were to be married, but she did not dare to make inquiry on that point. He told her that, for the present, she must remain at the Cedars. If she went away it would be regarded as an open quarrel, and moreover, he did not wish that she should live by herself in London lodgings. “We shall be able to see how things go for a day or two,” he said. To this she submitted without a murmur, and then Lady Ball came into the room.

They were both very nervous in watching her first behaviour, but were not at all prepared for the line of conduct which she adopted. John Ball and Margaret had separated when they heard the rustle of her dress. He had made a step towards the window, and she had retreated to the other side of the fire-place. Lady Ball, on entering the room, had been nearest to Margaret, but she walked round the table away from her usual place for prayers, and accosted her son.