impromptu dinners. If their skill and their fires will stand it, their tempers won't. You shall make me some tea, Margaret. And now, what were you thinking of? you were going to tell me. Whose letters were those, god-daughter, that you hid away so speedily?"
"Only Dixon's,"replied Margaret, growing very red.
"Whew! is that all? Who do you think came up in the train with me?"
"I don't know," said Margaret, resolved against making a guess.
"Your what d'ye call him? What's the right name for a cousin-in-law's brother?"
"Mr. Henry Lennox?" asked Margaret.
"Yes," replied Mr. Bell. "You knew him formerly, didn't you? What sort of a person is he, Margaret?"
"I liked him long ago," said Margaret, glancing down for a moment. And then she looked straight up and went on in her natural manner. You know we have been corresponding about Frederick since; but I have not seen him for nearly three years, and he may be changed. What did you think of him?"
"I don't know. He was so busy trying to find out who I was, in the first instance, and what I was in the second, that he never let out what he was; unless indeed that veiled curiosity of his as to what manner of man he had to talk to was not a good piece, and a fair indication of his character. Do you call him good looking, Margaret?"
"No! certainly not. Do you?"
"Not I. But I thought, perhaps you might. Is he a great deal here?"
