"I came to see Margaret Black," said Alfred.
"Margaret Black? There is no such person here," was the quiet reply.
"What! has she gone away so early as this?"
Mrs. Archbold smiled, and said soothingly, "Are you sure she ever
existed; except in your imagination?"
Alfred laughed at this, and showed her Peggy's letter. She ran her eye
over it, and returned it him with a smile of a different kind, half
pitying, half cynical. But presently resuming her former manner, "I
remember now," said she in dulcet tones: "the anxiety you are labouring
under is about a large sum of money, is it not?"
"What, can you give me any information about it?" said he, surprised.
"I think we can render you great _service_ in the matter, infinite
service, Mr. Hardie," was the reply, in a voice of very honey.
Alfred was amazed at this. "You say you don't know Peggy! And yet you
seem to know me. I never saw you in my life before, madam; what on earth
is the meaning of all this?"
"Calm yourself," said Mrs. Archbold, laying a white and finely moulded
hand upon his arm, "there is no wonder nor mystery in the matter: _you
were expected.
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