At last, at the end of the ten days, John Ball came again, and Margaret, with a fluttering heart, descended to meet him in the empty parlour.

She was the first to speak. As she had come downstairs, she had made up her mind to tell him openly what were her thoughts.

“I had hoped to have seen you before this, John,” she said, as she gave him her hand.

“I did call before. Did you not get my card?”

“Oh, yes; I got your card. But I had expected to see you before that. The kind of life that I am leading here is very sad, and cannot be long continued.”

“I would have had you remain at the Cedars, Margaret; but you would not be counselled by me.”

“No; not in that, John.”

“I only mention it now to excuse myself. But you are not to suppose that I am not anxious about you, because I have not seen you. I have been with Mr Slow constantly. These law questions are always very tedious in being settled.”

“But I want nothing for myself.”

“It behoves Mr Slow, for that very reason, to be the more anxious on your behalf; and, if you will believe me, Margaret, I am quite as anxious as he is. If you had remained with us, I could have discussed the matter with you from day to day; but, of course, I cannot do so while you are here.”

As he was talking in this way, everything with reference to their past intercourse came across her mind. She could not tell him that she had been anxious to see him, not with reference to the money, but that he might tell her that he did not find her guilty on that charge which her aunt had brought against her concerning Mr Maguire. She did not want assurances of solicitude as to her future means of maintenance. She cared little or nothing about her future maintenance, if she could not get from him one kind word with reference to the past. But he went on talking to her about Mr Slow, and the interest, and the property, and the law, till, at last, in her anger, she told him that she did not care to hear further about it, till she should be told at last what she was to do.

“As I have got nothing of my own,” she said, “I want to be earning my bread, and I think that the delay is cruel.”

“And do you think,” said he, “that the delay is not cruel to me also?”

She thought that he alluded to the fact that he could not yet obtain possession of the income for his own purposes.

“You may have it all at once, for me,” she said.

“Have all what?” he replied. “Margaret, I think you fail to see the difficulties of my position. In the first place, my father is on his deathbed!”

“Oh, John, I am sorry for that.”