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88 | © WILD. MARGARET. —
“That’s right,” he said, quickly “if -you’ve forgotten
you have forgiven. I assure you——
‘Dinner is served, my lord,” said a solemn voice. _
_ He turned sharply. - | “s
- * Confound it all--—” |.
‘* Whether I have forgiven you is not of the least conse- |
quence, my lord,’’ said Margaret, ‘‘ but the earl will cer-
tainly not forgive you if you keep dinner waiting any =~
longer,” and she bent over her canvas with an air of ab- »
sorption which shut him out of her cognizance com-—
pletely.
_ He stood for a minute, then with an audible “Confound —
the dinner!’ strode off.
: \. CHAPTERV.
MARGARET did not raise her head from her work as Lord
Blair Leyton moved reluctantly and impatiently down the i
gallery, but when the echo of his footsteps had died away |
she looked up with a‘slightly startled and altogether
strange expression. .
To her astonishment and disgust, the hand which held —
her brush was trembling. It was impossible to work any
longer. Guido’s head danced before her sight, and the -
other head—the handsome one of Blair Leyton—came be-"
tween her and the painted one. .
How. very far from guessing she had been that this, the
’ young man she had called a savage, was the earl’s nephew, .
Lord Blair Leyton!
-. What must he think of her?- And yet he had taken her»
for a guest of the house, had asked her if she were nob -
going in to dinner with him!
, She sat, paint brush in hand, and stared musingly at the
curtained doorway through which he had gone, au
thought of him. rae
It is a dangerous thing for a young, impressionable girl :
to think of a young man. But how could she help it?
Her grandmother’s words were ringing in her ears; ac:
cording to.Mrs: Hale, nothing was too bad to be said of
_ poor Blair Leyton. He was the wickedest of the wicked,
bad beyond all description.. And yet—and yet! How.
bravely he had fought a stronger and bigger man than
himself on behalf of a helpless dog!
_., She pondered over this question for half.an hour, look-
ing dreamily in the direction he had gone, then, without
having arrived at any answer to it, she jumped up and,
putting her painting: materials together, left the gallery.
‘‘Grandma,’’ she said, as she entered the room in which
' the old lady was seated, placidly knitting, for the dinner
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