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\ WILD MARGARET. 53
Fou know, and—and we may meet, Well, I'll say good-
Dye!” :
“Good-bye, my lord,” she said, affecting not to see his
outstretched hand. Lo!
_““Won’t you shake hands?” he said with a laugh, which
died away as she took up the rose and placed it in his
extended palm.
“Will you take back this flower, my lord?’’ she said
quietly, but with a trembling quiver on her lips.
‘“Take back?’? he stammered. ‘Take back the rose I
gave you last night!’ he went on with:astonishment.
Why? what have I done to offend you?” and he stared
from the rose to her face. .
‘You have done nothing to offend me, my lord,”’ said
Margaret quickly, and with a vivid blush, which angered
her. beyond expression. ‘‘ Nothing whatever, but——”
‘‘ But—well?” he said as she paused. ;
‘‘But,’’ she went on, lifting her eyes to his bravely—
“but I do not think I ought to take a Hower from you,
my lord.” ;
“Good lord, why not?’ he demanded, with not unrea-
sonable astonishment.
Margaret looked down. But she was no coward.
‘*T will say more than that,” she said inalow but steady
voice. ‘‘I ought not to have remained in the garden with
you last night, Lord Leyton. I~ thought so last night, I
am sure of it now. And if I ought not to have stayed
talking with you, I certainly ought not to have accepted
a flower from you! I beg your pardon, and—there is
your rose!’’
A look of pain crossed his handsome face.
‘“You haven’t told me why yet,”’ he said, after a pause.
Margaret bit her lip, and was silent for a second or two,
then she said: .
‘Lord Leyton, there should be, can be, no acquaintance
. between you and me——”’
‘‘ Now stop!’ he said. ‘‘I know what you are going to
‘say; you are going to talk some nonsense about my being
a viscount and you being something different, and all that!
Asif you were not a lady, and asif any one could be better
than that! Yes, they can, by George! and you are better,
for you are an artist! A difference between us—yes, yes,
Ishould think there was, between a useless fellow like
myself and a clever, beautiful——”’
‘* My lord!’ said Mergaret, flushing, then looking at him
with her brows drawn together.
“I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon; I do indeed!
But, all the same,” he said, defiantly, ‘it’s true! You are
beautiful, but ™ don’é rely on that. , Isay an artist and a
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