k. It
was afterwards, when she had been established in her old rooms at the
Grange, and had taken a little breakfast, that she told Ellen something
more about her captivity.

"O, Ellen, if I were to tell you what I have suffered! But no, there are
no words can tell that. It's not that they ill-used me. The girl who
waited on me brought me good food, and even tried to make me comfortable
in her rough way; but to sit there day after day, Ellen, alone, with only
a dim light from the top of the window above the wood-stack; to sit there
wondering about my husband, whether he was searching for me still, and
would ever find me, or whether, as was more likely, he had given me up
for dead. Think of me, Ellen, if you can, sitting there for weeks and
months in my despair, trying to reckon the days sometimes by the aid of
some old newspaper which the girl brought me now and then, at other times
losing count of them altogether."

"Dear Mrs. Holbrook, I can't understand it even yet. Tell me how it all
came about--how they ever lured you into that place."

"It was easy enough, Ellen; I wasn't conscious when they took me there.
The story is very short. You remember that day when you left the Grange,
how happy I was, looking forward to my husband's return, and thinking of
the good news I had to tell him. We were to be rich, and our lives free
and peaceful henceforward; and I had seen him suffer so much for the want
of money. It was the morning after you left when the post brought me a
letter from my father--a letter with the Malsham post-mark. I had seen
him in town, as you know, and was scarcely surprised that he should write
to me. But I was surprised to find him so near me, and the contents of
the letter were very perplexing. My father entreated me to meet him on
the river-side pathway, between Malsham station and this house. He had
been informed of my habits, he said, and that I was accustomed to walk
there. That was curious, when, so far as I knew, he had sever been near
this place; but I hardly thought about the strangeness of it then. He
begged me so earnestly to see him; it was a matter of life or death, he
said. What could I do, Nelly? He was my father, and I felt that I owed
him some duty. I could not refuse to see him; and if he had some personal
objection to coming here, it seemed a small thing for me to take the
trouble to go and meet him. I could but hear what he had to say."

"I wish to heaven I had been here!" exclaim