your aid from this moment, and to say that henceforth
I launch myself upon the world, alone and unassisted, to sink or swim as
Heaven may decree!'

'You would have, if you came to me for such a purpose,' said Mr Haredale
calmly, 'some reason to assign for conduct so extraordinary, which--if
one may entertain the possibility of anything so wild and strange--would
have its weight, of course.'

'That, sir,' she answered, 'is the misery of my distress. I can give
no reason whatever. My own bare word is all that I can offer. It is
my duty, my imperative and bounden duty. If I did not discharge it,
I should be a base and guilty wretch. Having said that, my lips are
sealed, and I can say no more.'

As though she felt relieved at having said so much, and had nerved
herself to the remainder of her task, she spoke from this time with a
firmer voice and heightened courage.

'Heaven is my witness, as my own heart is--and yours, dear young lady,
will speak for me, I know--that I have lived, since that time we all
have bitter reason to remember, in unchanging devotion, and gratitude to
this family. Heaven is my witness that go where I may, I shall preserve
those feelings unimpaired. And it is my witness, too, that they alone
impel me to the course I must take, and from which nothing now shall
turn me, as I hope for mercy.'

'These are strange riddles,' said Mr Haredale.

'In this world, sir,' she replied, 'they may, perhaps, never be
explained. In another, the Truth will be discovered in its own good
time. And may that time,' she added in a low voice, 'be far distant!'

'Let me be sure,' said Mr Haredale, 'that I understand you, for I am
doubtful of my own senses. Do you mean that you are resolved voluntarily
to deprive yourself of those means of support you have received from us
so long--that you are determined to resign the annuity we settled on you
twenty years ago--to leave house, and home, and goods, and begin life
anew--and this, for some secret reason or monstrous fancy which is
incapable of explanation, which only now exists, and has been dormant
all this time? In the name of God, under what delusion are you
labouring?'

'As I am deeply thankful,' she made answer, 'for the kindness of those,
alive and dead, who have owned this house; and as I would not have its
roof fall down and crush me, or its very walls drip blood, my name being
spoken in their hearing; I never will again subsist upon their bounty,
or let it he