"Oh, thank you! Yes. I got the money all right," said Margaret, much bewildered, and wondering who this could have been.
She found also that Mr. Skidd could not promise anything about her poem in an enlarged form till he had seen it, and had time to consult this mysterious friend, who by his account appreciated her short poems so much.
It was delightful to think she might have a larger audience and command a public who might be equally appreciative. Mr. Skidd began to discuss her poetry with her, and he gave her many useful hints.
"The fault of your poetry, madam, is that it wants variety. People get tired of perpetual sorrow and all that sort of thing. You write very prettily. Give us something cheerful, make the birds twitter and the sun shine, cultivate brightness, people do not like always being in mourning."
"But if I am not happy I cannot write what I do not feel," objected Margaret.
"Oh, yes you can; you get the trick of the thing and you will easily do it."
Margaret knew this to be impossible, but before she had time to repeat her negative a well-remembered face came before her, and Sir Albert Gerald, filled with happiness at meeting her so unexpectedly, came up with an outstretched hand. Mr. Skidd was immensely annoyed.
"And you make believe not to know who buys your poem," he exclaimed; "I call that humbug--and you," he said sharply, turning to Sir Albert, "why could you not be open about it?"
"But did _you_ buy my poems? Are you the literary man from whose appreciation I have received so much encouragement?" and Margaret, mortified and disappointed, turned to go away.
At any rate _she_ knew nothing, and Mr. Skidd was ashamed of the momentary suspicion that had filled him.
"No, this lady was acting on the square; as for the man...."
The little man felt as he looked at them that a whole drama was being played out before his eyes, the air was full of some secret thing in connection with these two.
Sir Albert, deferential and respectful, was evidently quite absorbed in the tall, graceful figure before him, who stood cold and apparently determined to show no satisfaction in his presence.
"I'll be bound there is no harm in _her_," he said, and so saying left them to themselves.