n a state of ignorance
such as you would have me believe?"

"Well," responded the old lady, hesitatingly, "I did not speak of such
matters."

"Why, aunt, did you not?" asked Dorothy. "Were you ashamed of what God had
done? Were you ashamed of His great purpose in creating you a woman, and
in creating your mother and your mother's mother before you?"

"No, no, child; no, no. But I cannot argue with you. Perhaps you are
right," said Aunt Dorothy.

"Then tell me, dear aunt, that I am not immodest and bold when I speak
concerning that of which my heart is full to overflowing. God put it
there, aunt, not I. Surely I am not immodest by reason of His act."

"No, no, my sweet child," returned Aunt Dorothy, beginning to weep softly.
"No, no, you are not immodest. You are worth a thousand weak fools such as
I was at your age."

Poor Aunt Dorothy had been forced into a marriage which had wrecked her
life. Dorothy's words opened her aunt's eyes to the fact that the girl
whom she so dearly loved was being thrust by Sir George into the same
wretched fate through which she had dragged her own suffering heart for so
many years. From that hour she was Dorothy's ally.

"Good night, Malcolm," said Lady Crawford, offering me her hand. I kissed
it tenderly; then I kissed the sweet old lady's cheek and said:--

"I love you with all my heart, Aunt Dorothy."

"I thank you, Malcolm," she returned.

I took my leave, and soon Madge went to her room, leaving Dorothy and Lady
Crawford together.

When Madge had gone the two Dorothys, one at each end of life, spanned the
long years that separated them, and became one in heart by reason of a
heartache common to both.

Lady Crawford seated herself and Dorothy knelt by her chair.

"Tell me, Dorothy," said the old lady, "tell me, do you love this man so
tenderly, so passionately that you cannot give him up?"

"Ah, my dear aunt," the girl responded, "words cannot tell. You cannot
know what I feel."

"Alas! I know only too well, my child. I, too, loved a man when I was your
age, and none but God knows what I suffered when I was forced by my
parents and the priests to give him up, and to wed one whom--God help
me--I loathed."

"Oh, my sweet aunt!" cried Dorothy softly, throwing her arms about the old
lady's neck and kissing her cheek. "How terribly you must have suffered!"

"Yes," responded Lady Crawford, "and I am resolved you shall not endure
the same fate. I hope the man who has won