“And left it for Arran?”

“Yes,” said she again, “that’ also is true; and I left it to come and see that old man whose trial you witnessed. He was my grandfather.”

“Your grandfather! Surely I am speaking to Miss Luttrell of Arran?”

She nodded, and, after a moment, said: “That old man was my mother’s father, and I journeyed here for no other end than to see him and comfort him. Of all these schemes and plots I know nothing, nor have I the strength now to attempt to think of them. Which of ns will you believe, Sir—them or me?”

“I believe you—every word you have told me,” said he; “but can you forgive me for the tale I have just told you?”

“Enough, now, that you do not believe it. And yet what can it matter to me how I am thought of? The opinion of the world is only of moment to those who have friends, I have not one!”

He did his best to comfort and to cheer her; he said all those kind things which even the humblest of his walk know how to pour into the ear of affliction, and he urged her to go back at once to Arran—to her uncle.

The counsel came well timed, and she caught at it eagerly. “My wretchedness will plead for me if I cannot speak for myself,” said she, half aloud; and now all her thoughts were how to reach Westport, and take boat for the island. The doctor volunteered to see her so far on her journey, and they set out the same evening.

Arrived at Westport, tired and fatigued as she was, she would not stay to rest, but embarked at once. The night was a bright and pleasant one, with a light land breeze, and as she stepped into the boat, she said, “The sea has given me the feeling of health again. I begin to hope I shall live to see you and thank you for all your friendship. Good-by.” And as she spoke, the craft was away, and she saw no more.

The poor suffering frame was so overcome by fatigue, that they were already at anchor in the harbour of Arran before she awoke. When she did so, her sensations were so confused that she was almost afraid to speak or question the boatmen, lest her words should seem wild and unconnected.