From her bedroom window she could see the sweep before the front of the house, and at two o’clock she saw and heard the lumbering of the carriage as it came to the door, and then she put on her hat to be ready for her walk; but her uncle and aunt did not, as it seemed, come out, and the carriage remained there as a fixture. This had been the case for some twenty minutes, when there came a knock at her own door, and the maid-servant told her that her aunt wished to see her in the drawing-room.

“To see me?” said Margaret, thoroughly surprised, and not a little dismayed.

“Yes, Miss; and there’s a gentleman there who asked for you when he first come.”

Now, indeed, she was dismayed. Who could be the gentleman? Was it Mr Slow, or a myrmidon from Mr Slow’s legal abode? Or was it Mr Rubb with his yellow gloves again? Whoever it was there must be something very special in his mission, as her aunt had, in consequence, deferred her drive, and was also apparently about to drop her purpose of cutting her niece’s acquaintance in her own house.

But we will go back to Mr Maguire. He had passed the evening and the morning in thinking over the method of his attack, and had at last resolved that he would be very bold. He would go down to the Cedars, and claim Margaret as his affianced bride. He went, therefore, down to the Cedars, and in accordance with his plan as arranged, he gave his card to the servant, and asked if he could see Sir John Ball alone. Now, Sir John Ball never saw any one on business, or, indeed, not on business; and, after a while, word was brought out to Mr Maguire that he could see Lady Ball, but that Sir John was not well enough to receive any visitors. Lady Ball, Mr Maguire thought, would suit him better than Sir John. He signified his will accordingly, and on being shown into the drawing-room, found her ladyship there alone.

It must be acknowledged that he was a brave man, and that he was doing a bold thing. He knew that he should find himself among enemies, and that his claim would be ignored and ridiculed by the persons whom he was about to attack; he knew that everybody, on first seeing him, was affrighted and somewhat horrified; he knew too,—at least, we must presume that he knew,—that the lady herself had given him no promise. But he thought it possible, nay, almost probable, that she would turn to him if she saw him again; that she might own him as her own; that her feelings might be strong enough in his favour to induce her to throw off the thraldom of her relatives, and that he might make good his ground in her breast, even if he could not bear her away in triumph out of the hands of his enemies.