"You're tired--I'm sure you're tired. Have you walked here? You sha'n't
go back on foot; I'll take care of that!"

Anne roused herself at those words. She spoke for the first time. The
tone was lower than was natural to her; sadder than was natural to
her--but the charm of her voice, the native gentleness and beauty of it,
seemed to have survived the wreck of all besides.

"I don't go back, Blanche. I have left the inn."

"Left the inn? With your husband?"

She answered the first question--not the second.

"I can't go back," she said. "The inn is no place for me. A curse seems
to follow me, Blanche, wherever I go. I am the cause of quarreling
and wretchedness, without meaning it, God knows. The old man who is
head-waiter at the inn has been kind to me, my dear, in his way, and
he and the landlady had hard words together about it. A quarrel, a
shocking, violent quarrel. He has lost his place in consequence. The
woman, his mistress, lays all the blame of it to my door. She is a hard
woman; and she has been harder than ever since Bishopriggs went away. I
have missed a letter at the inn--I must have thrown it aside, I suppose,
and forgotten it. I only know that I remembered about it, and couldn't
find it last night. I told the landlady, and she fastened a quarrel on
me almost before the words were out of my mouth. Asked me if I charged
her with stealing my letter. Said things to me--I can't repeat them.
I am not very well, and not able to deal with people of that sort. I
thought it best to leave Craig Fernie this morning. I hope and pray I
shall never see Craig Fernie again."

She told her little story with a total absence of emotion of any sort,
and laid her head back wearily on the chair when it was done.

Blanche's eyes filled with tears at the sight of her.

"I won't tease you with questions, Anne," she said, gently. "Come up
stairs and rest in my room. You're not fit to travel, love. I'll take
care that nobody comes near us."

The stable-clock at Windygates struck the quarter to two. Anne raised
herself in the chair with a start.

"What time was that?" she asked.

Blanche told her.

"I can't stay," she said. "I have come here to find something out if I
can. You won't ask me questions? Don't, Blanche, don't! for the sake of
old times."

Blanche turned aside, heart-sick. "I will do nothing, dear, to annoy
you," she said, and took Anne's hand, and hid the tears that were
beginning to fall over her chee