later by many years than any date of which I have
written yet. Be pleased to remember this.

Dermody, the bailiff, possessed relatives in London, of whom he
occasionally spoke, and relatives in Scotland, whom he never mentioned.
My father had a strong prejudice against the Scotch nation. Dermody knew
his master well enough to be aware that the prejudice might extend to
_him_, if he spoke of his Scotch kindred. He was a discreet man, and he
never mentioned them.

On leaving my father's service, he had made his way, partly by land and
partly by sea, to Glasgow--in which city his friends resided. With his
character and his experience, Dermody was a man in a thousand to any
master who was lucky enough to discover him. His friends bestirred
themselves. In six weeks' time he was placed in charge of a gentleman's
estate on the eastern coast of Scotland, and was comfortably established
with his mother and his daughter in a new home.

The insulting language which my father had addressed to him had sunk
deep in Dermody's mind. He wrote privately to his relatives in London,
telling them that he had found a new situation which suited him, and
that he had his reasons for not at present mentioning his address. In
this way he baffled the inquiries which my mother's lawyers (failing
to discover a trace of him in other directions) addressed to his
London friends. Stung by his old master's reproaches, he sacrificed his
daughter and he sacrificed me--partly to his own sense of self-respect,
partly to his conviction that the difference between us in rank made it
his duty to check all further intercourse before it was too late.

Buried in their retirement in a remote part of Scotland, the little
household lived, lost to me, and lost to the world.

In dreams, I had seen and heard Mary. In dreams, Mary saw and heard me.
The innocent longings and wishes which filled my heart while I was still
a boy were revealed to her in the mystery of sleep. Her grandmother,
holding firmly to her faith in the predestined union between us,
sustained the girl's courage and cheered her heart. She could hear her
father say (as my father had said) that we were parted to meet no more,
and could privately think of her happy dreams as the sufficient promise
of another future than the future which Dermody contemplated. So she
still lived with me in the spirit--and lived in hope.

The first affliction that befell the little household was the death
of the gran