onesty with equal openness on my side.'

Falconer, for the first time almost in his life, was incapable of speech
from bewilderment. But Miss Hamilton did not in the least enjoy his
perplexity, and made haste to rescue both him and herself. With a blush
that was now deep as any rose, she resumed,

'But I owe you equal frankness, Mr. Falconer. There is no barrier
between Major Moray and myself but the foolish--no, wicked--indiscretion
of an otherwise innocent and ignorant girl. Listen, Mr. Falconer: under
the necessity of the circumstances you will not misjudge me if I compel
myself to speak calmly. This, I trust, will be my final penance. I
thought Lord Rothie was going to marry me. To do him justice, he never
said so. Make what excuse for my folly you can. I was lost in a mist
of vain imaginations. I had had no mother to teach me anything, Mr.
Falconer, and my father never suspected the necessity of teaching me
anything. I was very ill on the passage to Antwerp, and when I began to
recover a little, I found myself beginning to doubt both my own conduct
and his lordship's intentions. Possibly the fact that he was not quite
so kind to me in my illness as I had expected, and that I felt hurt in
consequence, aided the doubt. Then the thought of my father returning
and finding that I had left him, came and burned in my heart like fire.
But what was I to do? I had never been out of Aberdeen before. I did not
know even a word of French. I was altogether in Lord Rothie's power. I
thought I loved him, but it was not much of love that sea-sickness could
get the better of. With a heart full of despair I went on shore. The
captain slipped a note into my hand. I put it in my pocket, but pulled
it out with my handkerchief in the street. Lord Rothie picked it up. I
begged him to give it me, but he read it, and then tore it in pieces. I
entered the hotel, as wretched as girl could well be. I began to dislike
him. But during dinner he was so kind and attentive that I tried to
persuade myself that my fears were fanciful. After dinner he took me
out. On the stairs we met a lady whose speech was Scotch. Her maid
called her Lady Janet. She looked kindly at me as I passed. I thought
she could read my face. I remembered afterwards that Lord Rothie turned
his head away when we met her. We went into the cathedral. We were
standing under that curious dome, and I was looking up at its strange
lights, when down came a rain of bell-notes on the ro