n," she said to herself. "I've a long way to be going
yet. I wonder what time the steamer starts for Cork, and if I shall
find it waiting in the harbour?"

She was quite sure that she had come in exactly the same direction as
the path, but somehow she did not seem to be getting any nearer to
civilization. On and on she wandered, hour after hour, seeing nothing
before her but the same bare, grass-covered hills, till she began to
grow alarmed, and to suspect that after all she had completely missed
her way. The sun was setting, and as the great, red ball of fire sank
behind the horizon, her spirits fell in proportion. What was she to do,
alone and lost on the hills? Even if she could reach Westhaven in
daylight, she would not like to be obliged to go to the quay in the
dark; and suppose there were no night boat, like the mail steamer in
which she had crossed from Dublin to Holyhead, where could she go until
morning? She had not foreseen any of these difficulties when she set
out, it had all appeared so easy and simple; but she saw now what a
risky adventure she had undertaken. She was almost in despair, when
luckily she came across a track sufficiently trodden to indicate that
it probably led to some human habitation. It was growing very dusk
indeed now, but she could just see to trace the path, and she hurried
hopefully on, till at length the lights of a farm-house window shone
out through the gathering gloom.

At first Honor thought of knocking boldly at the door and asking for
food and shelter; but then, she reflected that the people of the house
would think it most strange for a nicely dressed girl to present
herself so late in the evening with such a request, and would be sure
to ask awkward questions, and might possibly send a messenger to the
College to tell of her arrival, detaining her there in the morning
until Miss Cavendish or Miss Maitland arrived to fetch her. Even supper
and a bed, welcome though they might prove, would be too dearly bought
at such a price; and she determined, instead, to spend the night in a
barn, the door of which stood conveniently open. It was half-filled
with newly made, sweet-smelling hay, on to which she crept in the
darkness; and flinging herself down, she drew some of it under her head
for a pillow. A strange bed indeed, and very different from the one in
her cubicle at St. Chad's! But at least she was free to go when she
pleased; she meant to be up at daybreak, before anyone on t