After all, there are, perhaps, moments when Margaret is not as
perfect as one believes her. She can't, for example, resist this
thrust.

"Decidedly I don't _desire _to marry her to Maurice," says Lady
Rylton angrily. "I have told you that often enough, I think; but for
all that Maurice must marry her. It is his last chance!"

"Tessie," says Margaret sharply, "if you persist in this matter, and
bring it to the conclusion you have in view, do you know what will
happen? You will make your only child miserable! I warn you of
that." Miss Knollys' voice is almost solemn.

"You talk as if Maurice was the only person in the world to be made
miserable," says Lady Rylton, leaning back in her chair and bursting
into tears--at all events, it must be supposed it is tears that are
going on behind the little lace fragment pressed to her eyes. "Am
not I ten times more miserable? I, who have to give my only son--as"
(sobbing) "you most admirably describe it, Margaret--to such a girl
as that! Good heavens! What can his sufferings be to mine?" She
wipes her eyes daintily, and sits up again. "You hurt me so, dear
Margaret," she says plaintively, "but I'm _sure_ you do not mean
it."

"No, no, of course," says Miss Knollys, as civilly as she can. She
is feeling a little disgusted.

"And as for this affair--objectionable as the girl is, still one
must give and take a little when one's fortunes are at the ebb. And