“How happy I am to hear it,” said Miss Daly, hastily; “and she is, then, high-spirited and buoyant? What gifts in an hour like this!”
“You say truly, madam, she will not sink beneath the stroke, believe me.”
“Well, this news has reconciled me to much of your gloomier tidings,” said Miss Daly; “and now let us wander out upon the hills; I feel as if we could talk more freely as we stroll along the beach.”
Miss Daly arose as she spoke, and led the way through the little garden wicket, which opened on a steep pathway down to the shore.
“This will be a favorite walk with Helen, I'm certain,” said she. “The caves are all accessible at low water, and the view of Fairhead finer than from any other point. I must instruct you to be a good and a safe guide. I must teach you all the art and mystery of the science, make you learned in the chronicles of Dunluce, and rake up for you legends of ghostcraft and shipwreck enough to make the fortunes of a romancer.”
“I thank you heartily,” said Forester; “but I cannot remain here to meet my friends.”
“Oh, I understand you,” said Miss Daly, who in reality put a wrong interpretation on his words; “but you shall be my guest. There is a little village about four miles from this, where I intend to take up my abode. I hope you will not decline hospitality which, if humble, is at least freely proffered.”
“I regret deeply,” said Forester, and he spoke in a tone of sorrow, “that I cannot accept your kindness. I stand in a position of no common difficulty at this moment.” He hesitated, as if doubting whether to proceed or not, and then, in a more hurried voice, resumed: “There is no reason why I should obtrude my own petty cares and trials where greater misfortunes are impending; but I cannot help telling you that I have been rash enough, in a moment of impatience, to throw up an appointment I held on the Viceroy's Staff, and I know not how far the step may yet involve me with my relatives.”
“Tell me how came you first acquainted with the Darcys?” said Miss Daly, as if following out in her own mind a train of thought.
“I will be frank with you,” said Forester, “for I cannot help being so; there are cases where confidence is not a virtue, but a necessity. Every word you speak, every tone of your voice, is so much your brother's that I feel as if I were confiding to him in another form. I learned to know the Knight of Gwynne in a manner which you may deem, perhaps, little creditable to myself, though I trust you will see that I neither abused the knowledge nor perverted the honor of the acquaintanceship. It was in this wise.”