ow very dreadful!"

"Whether it was done on purpose, or that they had a scuffle, and the gun
went off accidentally and killed my father, no one can tell. Afy said
she had been in the woods at the back of the house, and when she came
in, father lay dead, and Mr. Locksley was standing over him. He said he
had heard the shot, and come up just in time to see Richard fly from the
house, his shoes covered with blood. He has never been heard of since;
but there is a judgment of murder out against him; and the fear and
shame is killing his mother by inches."

"And Afy?"

"The worst is to come my lady. Afy followed him directly after the
inquest, and nothing has been known since of either of them. I was taken
ill, after all these shocks, with nervous fever, and Miss Carlyle took
care of me, and I have remained with her ever since. This was what I had
to tell you, my lady, before you decided to take me into service; it is
not every lady who would like to engage one whose sister has turned out
so badly."

Lady Isabel did not see that it could make any difference, or that it
ought to. She said so; and then leaned back in her chair and mused.

"What dress, my lady?"

"Joyce, what was that I heard you and Susan gossiping over at the door?"
Lady Isabel suddenly asked. "About Miss Hare giving me a bowl of poison.
Something in the dramatic line that would be. You should tell Susan not
to make her whispers so loud."

"It was only a bit of nonsense, my lady. These ignorant servants will
talk; and every one at West Lynne knew Miss Barbara was in love with Mr.
Carlyle. But I don't fancy she would have been the one to make him happy
with all her love."

A hot flush passed over the brow of Lady Isabel; a sensation very like
jealousy flew to her heart. No woman likes to hear of another's being,
or having been attached to her husband: a doubt always arises whether
the feeling may not have been reciprocated.

Lady Isabel descended. She wore a costly black lace dress, its low body
and sleeves trimmed with as costly white; and ornaments of jet. She
looked inexpressibly beautiful, and Barbara turned from her with a
feeling of sinking jealousy, from her beauty, from her attire, even from
the fine, soft handkerchief, which displayed the badge of her rank--the
coronet of an earl's daughter. Barbara looked well, too; she was in a
light blue silk robe, and her pretty cheeks were damask with her
mind's excitement. On her neck she wore the gold