into a
dusky little parlor; and in another minute Fay found herself lying on
a couch, and her baby crying lustily in Jean's arms, while the little
old lady was bathing her face with some cold, fragrant water, with the
tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Ay, my bonnie woman," she said, "you have given Jean and me a turn;
and there's the big doggie, too, that would be after licking your
face--and for all he knows you are better now--like a Christian. Run
away, Jean, and warm a sup of milk for the bairn, and may be his
mother would like a cup of tea and a freshly baked scone. There give
me the baby, and I'll hold him while you are gone."

"There's Andrew bringing in a heap of boxes," observed Jean, stolidly;
"will he be setting them down in the porch? for we must not wake the
minister."

"Ay, ay," returned Mrs. Duncan, in a bewildered tone; but she hardly
took in the sense of Jean's speech--she was rocking the baby in her
old arms and looking at the pretty, white, sunken face that lay on the
chintz cushion. Of course it was little Miss Mordaunt, but what did it
mean--what could it all mean?

"Mrs. Duncan," whispered Fay, as she raised herself on her pillow, "I
have come to you because I am so unhappy, and I have no other friend.
I am married, and this is my baby, and my husband does not want me,
and indeed it would have killed me to stop with him, and I have come
to you, and he must not find me, and you must take care of baby and
me," and here her tears burst out, and she clung round the old lady's
neck. "I have money, and I can pay the minister; and I am so fond of
you both--do let me stay."

"Whisht, whisht, my dearie," returned Mrs. Duncan, wiping her own eyes
and Fay's. "Of course you shall bide with me; would either Donald or I
turn out the shorn lamb to face the tempest? Married, my bairn; why,
you look only fit for a cot yourself; and with a bairn of your own,
too. And to think that any man could ill-use a creature like that,"
half to herself; but Fay drooped her head as she heard her. Mrs.
Duncan thought Hugh was cruel to her, and that she had fled from his
ill-treatment, and she dare not contradict this notion.

"You must never speak to me of my husband," continued Fay, with an
agitation that still further misled Mrs. Duncan. "I should have died
if I had stopped with him; but I ran away, and I knew he would never
find me here. I have money enough--ah, plenty--so you will not be put
to expense. You may take ca