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WILD MARGARET, | 69
‘What will you do with your Guido when you have
_ finished it,-Miss Hale?” he said, after a moment or two.
Margaret laughed softly.
‘I don’t know, my lord,” she said at last.
“If you will sell it, I will buy it,” he said.
- Margaret flushed with gratification.
“I do not know its worth, but I will venture to offer
you fifty pounds.”
" qpat’s a great deal too much, my lord,” she said, de-
cidedly, ,
“I think not,” he responded, so quietly that she could
say nothing else beyond *t Thank you, my lord!” .
‘You shall paint another picture for me,” he said;
“not a copy this time.” He paused a moment, then went - |
on, ‘‘Choose some small piece of woodland scenery and
paint it for me, if you will, Miss Hale.” |
‘‘ Iwill, my lord,” said Margaret, gratefully.
Her simple response seemed to please him, and_he
looked at her thoughtfully, and with asad regret. Why
had not Heaven blessed him with a daughter like to this
beautiful girl? was passing through his mind.
Then he said suddenly: *
** You have no parents, Miss Tale?’’
**No, my lord,’”’ said Margaret sadly. ;
‘** And you rely upon your own efforts?” he said gently.
‘““Yes,”’.replied Margaret, ‘‘I-depend entirely upon my
painting, Lord Ferrers.” ;
‘Tt is not an ignoble dependence,”’ said. the stately old.
man. ‘‘ You are happy in being able to rely upon yourself.
And you delight in your work?” .
“Tam fonder of it than anything else, my lord,”’ said
Margaret. with a smile. :
The earl paced toward the broad steps that lead from
the terrace to the gardens, and Margaret. feeling that she
- Must not go until she was dismissed, walled by his side.
At a turn in the path he stopped short.
“I must leave you now,’’ he said. ‘‘Good-bye! Per-
haps, some day, you will be kind enough to give me your —
company in another stroll. You will not forget the pict-
> Uure?”? . .
‘*‘Oh, no, my lord,’’ said Margaret, dropping a courtesy.
_ The earl paced slowly to his own apartments, and enter-
ing the library, sat down before the great carved writing-
able.
For half an hour he sat musing.
‘**So young, so innocent, so much at the mercy of the
- cold, cruel world. Depends upon her art! Poor child, a
frail dependence! Why should I not? Iam rich beyond
calculation, as they tell me, Why should I not do one act