"Good-night, then. Only one thing more. You mean that, till further orders, Margaret should not know?"

"Of course," said Norman impatiently. "She won't take any of Flora's silly affronts, and, what is more, she would not care half so much as before Alan Ernescliffe came."

"Oh, Norman, Norman! I'm sure--"

"Why, it is what they always say. Everybody can't be first, and Ernescliffe has the biggest half of her, I can see."

"I am sure I did not," said Ethel, in a mortified voice.

"Why, of course, it always comes of people having lovers."

"Then I am sure I won't!" exclaimed Ethel.

Norman went into a fit of laughing.

"You may laugh, Norman, but I will never let papa or any of you be second to any one!" she cried vehemently.

A brotherly home-truth followed: "Nobody asked you, sir, she said!" was muttered by Norman, still laughing heartily.

"I know," said Ethel, not in the least offended, "I am very ugly, and very awkward, but I don't care. There never can be anybody in all the world that I shall like half as well as papa, and I am glad no one is ever likely to make me care less for him and Cocksmoor."

"Stay till you are tried," said Norman.

Ethel squeezed up her eyes, curled up her nose, showed her teeth in a horrible grimace, and made a sort of snarl: "Yah! That's the face I shall make at them!" and then, with another good-night, ran to her own room.

Norman was, to a certain extent, right with regard to Margaret--her thoughts and interest had been chiefly engrossed by Alan Ernescliffe, and so far drawn away from her own family, that when the Alcestis was absolutely gone beyond all reach of letters for the present, Margaret could not help feeling somewhat of a void, and as if the home concerns were not so entire an occupation for her mind as formerly.

She would fain have thrown herself into them again, but she became conscious that there was a difference. She was still the object of her father's intense tenderness and solicitude, indeed she could not be otherwise, but it came over her sometimes that she was less necessary to him than in the first year. He was not conscious of any change, and, indeed, it hardly amounted to a change, and yet Margaret, lying inactive and thoughtful, began to observe that the fullness of his confidence was passing to Ethel. Now and then it would appear that he fancied he had told Margaret little matters, when he had really told them to Ethel; and it was Ethel who would linger with him in the drawing-room after the others had gone up at night, or who would be late at the morning's reading, and disarm Miss Winter, by pleading that papa had been talking to her. The secret they shared together was, of course, the origin of much of this; but also Ethel was now more entirely the doctor's own than Margaret could be after her engagement; and there was a likeness of mind between the father and daughter that could not but develop more in this year, than in all Ethel's life, when she had made the most rapid progress. Perhaps, too, the doctor looked on Margaret rather as the authority and mistress of his house, while Ethel was more of a playfellow; and thus, without either having the least suspicion that the one sister was taking the place of the other, and without any actual neglect of Margaret, Ethel was his chief companion.

"How excited and anxious Norman looks!" said Margaret, one day, when he had rushed in at the dinner-hour, asking for his father, and, when he could not find him, shouting out for Ethel. "I hope there is nothing amiss. He has looked thin and worn for some time, and yet his work at school is very easy to him."

"I wish there maybe nothing wrong there again," said Flora. "There!

there's the front door banging! He is off! Ethel!--" stepping to the door, and calling in her sister, who came from the street door, her hair blowing about with the wind. "What did Norman want?"

"Only to know whether papa had left a note for Dr. Hoxton," said Ethel, looking very confused and very merry.

"That was not all," said Flora. "Now don't be absurd, Ethel--I hate mysteries."

"Last time I had a secret you would not believe it," said Ethel, laughing.

"Come!" exclaimed Flora, "why cannot you tell us at once what is going on?"

"Because I was desired not," said Ethel. "You will hear it soon enough,"

and she capered a little.

"Let her alone, Flora," said Margaret. "I see there is nothing wrong."

"If she is desired to be silent, there is nothing to be said," replied Flora, sitting down again, while Ethel ran away to guard her secret.

"Absurd!" muttered Flora. "I cannot imagine why Ethel is always making mysteries!"

"She cannot help other people having confidence in her," said Margaret gently.

"She need not be so important, then," said Flora--"always having private conferences with papa! I do not think it is at all fair on the rest."

"Ethel is a very superior person," said Margaret, with half a sigh.

Flora might toss her head, but she attempted no denial in words. "And,"

continued Margaret, "if papa does find her his best companion and friend we ought to be glad of it."

"I do not call it just," said Flora.

"I do not think it can be helped," said Margaret: "the best must be preferred.

"As to that, Ethel is often very ridiculous and silly."

"She is improving every day; and you know dear mamma always thought her the finest character amongst us."

"Then you are ready to be left out, and have your third sister always put before you?"

"No, Flora, that is not the case. Neither she nor papa would ever be unfair; but, as she would say herself, what they can't help, they can't help; and, as she grows older, she must surpass me more and more."

"And you like it?"

"I like it--when--when I think of papa, and of his dear, noble Ethel. I do like it, when I am not selfish."

Margaret turned away her head, but presently looked up again.

"Only, Flora," she said, "pray do not say one word of this, on any account, to Ethel. She is so happy with papa, and I would not for anything have her think I feel neglected, or had any jealousy."

"Ah," thought Flora, "you can give up sweetly, but you have Alan to fall back upon. Now I, who certainly have the best right, and a great deal more practical sense--"

Flora took Margaret's advice, and did not reproach Ethel, for a little reflection convinced her that she should make a silly figure in so doing, and she did not like altercations.

It was the same evening that Norman came in from school with his hands full of papers, and, with one voice, his father and Ethel exclaimed, "You have them?"

"Yes;" and he gave the letter to his father, while Blanche, who had a very inquisitive pair of eyes, began to read from a paper he placed on the table.

"'Norman Walter, son of Richard and Margaret May, High Street, Doctor of Medicine, December 21st, 18--. Thomas Ramsden.'"

"What is that for, Norman?" and, as he did not attend, she called Mary to share her speculations, and spell out the words.

"Ha!" cried Dr. May, "this is capital! The old doctor seems not to know how to say enough for you. Have you read it?"

"No, he only told me he had said something in my favour, and wished me all success."

"Success!" cried Mary. "Oh, Norman, you are not going to sea too?"