Margaret Vincent

on her slim young figure, and the lace at her neck was soft and real; it belonged to her mother, who knew nothing of its value; her hat was perfect

growths of the earth and the changes of the sky that she was wholly untainted by t

before a new-look

npowder," Mr. Vincent remarked, and Margaret, turning to g

part of the London show. The drawing-room was part of it, too, with its couches and screens, its pictures and Venetian glass and countless things of a sort that had

and pinned closely to the back of her head. Her eyes were a deep gray, long lashed, and curiously full of expression, that apparently she was not able to control. They seemed to belong to an inward being who looked on independently at things, and frequently thought and felt differently from the one that clothed it and tried to pass itself off as a real personality. She had never been pretty; but her face arrested attention. The lines on it suggested suf

ared to be thickened by emotion. She st

, Hilda?" he said, prosaically enou

e at the back of them there was a glint of curiosity. She knew

she answered. "I never e

ll girl to see you." He put his

sed her. "I knew your father before your mother did, and I have loved him all my life," she said, and looked at the girl's face intently for a moment;

he turned to him with a happy, humorous smile. She seemed to have

wl. I have a child, too," she went on. "You must see her-my Lena. She

he?" Mr. Vi

ever tired of him." She was gay by this time, and it was obvious that good spirits were natural to her. "I'll tell you who is with them," she went on. "Dawson Farley-I dare say Margaret would like to see him. He is a genius in my opinion-the only man on the stage fit to play a romantic part-and Louise Hunstan, the American actress, you know. She is play

s only interested her so far as they affected her own. If the Vincents had been going with her she w

rrying on her own train of thought. She went towards the curtains as

garet answered, appalled at bein

'll take you. No, no, Gerald," as Mr. Vincent made a step to follow

ts of color and silver gleamed everywhere. It was like entering a dream, and dim figures seemed to rise from it-an indefinite number of them, it seemed to Margaret, though she soon made out that there were only four. She felt so strange as she stood hesitating just insi

towards them. "Tom, your father knew this girl's father, too. I am coming back with him in a few minutes to tea. This is Tom Carringford, dear," she said to Margaret. Then, as if she had done enough, she went

and shook her hand. "Don't be afraid of us; it's all right. My governor

for you," she said. "Mother has told me about your father. It was splendid of him to bring you." She spoke in a low tone, and, drawing Margaret to a seat near the window, looked at her with an anxi

told us about

h a determined mouth and short, crisp hair. There was something hard and even cruel in the face, but there was fascination in it, too-ther

hurst this morning-for the first time." Lena made a little s

ve never been in London

nev

argaret was getting used to the dimness now, and could see through it. A wom

t know, Margaret recoiled from this girl, who had only known her fi

t it gave her words a charm that made it impossible not to listen to them. "Now tell me, do you love it or hate it,

," Margaret answered. "E

a curiosity. What brutes we are! Never mind, Miss Vincent," he laughed, "we

hed back a little as she answered. "Adventures-do people h

to carry a cat under your arm and marry a fairy prince

face. "Oh, please don't," she s

Miss Vincent?" the actor as

ide Farm at

to stop her. But she took no notice and went on. "He was a clergyman then, but he changed his opinions, left the Church, and wrote

she tell you?

Carringford said, turning upon Lena: he wa

y one else," Miss Hunstan said to Margaret, with a l

lways tell everything I know, about myself and every one else. It's much the b

urned to Margaret; "I've read some of Mr. Vincent's articles.

history of a famous person. Mr. Farley looked at her impatiently and then at the

trying to change the conversation. "There

to 'King Joh

rather slow," Tom Car

men think," Mr. Farley said

oved her, and ignoring the fact that Margaret was a good five foot seven. "Do you bask in the sun

rtals. Father and I read a

does your

generally busy with t

is Ha

She is a good dea

father sit together and read books. The farm carts rumble by, dogs bark, and chickens wander about; there are cows in the fields, honeysuckle in the hedge

ittle too picturesque, you know. It always is. I c

asked, taking no notice of Tom's crushing remark. "Do you l

ain. "She doesn't feel

oes who is r

mummy." Then he turned to Margaret: "I have to go now; but I wi

Hotel-it's in

atred of Lena Lakeman, which had just been intensified by her treatment of Margaret. There were times when he felt that he should like to strangle her, just for the

d to be making some arrangement together, for, as he wished her good-bye he said

said; "but I wish I could stay longer." She held out her hand to Margaret. "I am a stranger to you," she said; "but I should like you to know that I am an American woman, and an actress-who was once a stranger, too, here in London. I hope

o very much," Marga

t I live in Great College Street, Westminster; and you will easily find it, for it'

"Miss Hunstan is an old friend of mine, too," h

topped to ring the bell-"all about yourself. We ought to know each other, when we remember-" She had been speaking in an intense tone, but the servant entered, and in qui

nd done with before we were born. I couldn't bear you to speak of it, nor of my father's opinions, as you did when the others were here; and I can't

that some people are never strangers? And when mother brought you in just now I felt that I had k

would not have spoken as you

everything we do and feel should be spread out under the light of he

ers once? I didn't want to know that he had ever cared for a

e, and how unspoiled by the world," she said. "I wish I could

can

y n

talk about her to a

ove her v

th all my hear

what she

t want to talk a

orthy?" Lena asked, with a g

thy," Margaret answered; "but I do

forward, as if she were trying to dive into the innermost depths of the so

m glad," she whisp

"because I understand people-mother and I do. The tea is ready; I will go a