away by seven o'clock, they tell me," said her father. "He did not vouchsafe any message for us, but I fancy we both guess his business."
So in the early forenoon Grace was sauntering on the path that led over the hills towards Mrs M'Intyre's shieling. Nor was it long before she saw Leslie approaching. He was coming on leisurely, as if lost in thought, but at sight of her he quickened his pace.
"Well, Ralph!" was all the greeting she gave him, and yet there was that in her look and in her tone which amply rewarded him for his early expedition.
" Yes," he said, answering her unspoken inquiries – "yes, I have been to see her, and I think I see, too, how we can help her."
Grace was of course all anxiety; but she repressed the questions that came crowding to her lips, leaving her silent cousin to do the talking. And he spoke with so much good sense and with such sincere feeling, that she had never listened to him with greater pleasure.
"You of all girls will understand me, Grace, when I tell you that I never was so nervous in my life as when I walked up to the door of that poor woman's cottage. There is something so sacred in a calamity like his, that it seems sacrilege for a man and a stranger to approach it. And when sorrow has almost turned the brain, in our ignorance and our reverence we are almost hopeless to cope with it. In fact, had it not been for one thing, I should have gone on hesitating" – he did not add, "as you have been doing."
But Grace finished the sentence for him in her mind, and, full of her gratitude, was ready to reward him.
"And I know what that one thing was, and that you wished to spare my weakness an effort. Nor shall I forget it, Ralph – of that you may be sure and now tell me everything."
"Really, I don't know that there is much to tell, except that I have prepared the way for you, and left her hoping for your visit. Though that is something, for I am sure you will do her good, and indeed may probably prove her salvation. The fact is that the poor woman has been neglected, though not intentionally; and mismanaged – with the best intentions. Your father, as of course he would, gave his people carte blanche, and in the way of meal, and milk, and mutton, she has everything heart can desire. I believe that the neighbours, from Donald Ross downwards, would each one of them cut off a hand to spare her a finger-ache. But they scarcely understand her case, – as how should they? And living in the shadows of that brooding solitude – you remember our talk of yesterday, just before we saw her? – her dead is always with her; the horrors of that death-scene are always present with her; and I believe, from what she let slip, that the husband she loved haunts her in her visions of the night like the vampires of the Hungarian legends. Unhappily, perhaps, she seems to be a remarkable woman for her station: what you might have been," he added, with a serious smile, "had you been born a shepherd's daughter and similarly bereaved."
"But the minister?" said Grace. "He is a good man – is he not? Has he not gone to visit her?"
"The minister is an excellent man, and his visits have been only too frequent. From what I have gathered, and it was a good deal, his views are as strong and as sincere as they are narrow. He pities her; he feels for her, accord-
