time.

"You must leave your room again, my lady!" said Donal.

"I will. I shall speak to mistress Brookes at once."

"Will you tell her all about it?"

"We must talk about that!"

"How will she bear it," thought Donal; "how after such an experience,
can she spend the rest of the day alone? There is all the long
afternoon and evening to be met!"

He gave the last turn to the screw in the floor, and rose. Then first
he saw that Arctura had turned very white.

"Do sit down, my lady!" he said. "I would run for mistress Brookes, but
I dare not leave you."

"No, no; we will go down together! Give me that bottle of eau de
Cologne, please."

Donal did not know either eau de Cologne or its bottle, but he darted
to the dressing-table and guessed correctly. It revived her, and she
began to take deep breaths. Then with a strong effort she rose to go
down.

The time for speech concerning what they had seen, was not come!

"Would you not like, my lady," said Donal, "to come to the schoolroom
this afternoon? You could sit beside while I give Davie his lessons!"

"Yes," she answered at once; "I should like it much!--Is there not
something you could give me to do?--Will you not teach me something?"

"I should like to begin you with Greek, and teach you a little
mathematics--geometry first of all."

"You frighten me!"

"Your fright wouldn't outlast the beginning," said Donal. "Anyhow, you
will have Davie and me for company! You must be lonely sometimes! You
see little of Miss Carmichael now, I fancy."

"She has not been near me since that day in the avenue! We salute now
and then coming out of church. She will not come again except I ask
her; and I shall be in no haste: she would only assume I was sorry, and
could not do without her!"

"I should let her wait, my lady!" said Donal. "She sorely wants
humbling!"

"You do not know her, Mr. Grant, if you think anything I could do would
have that effect on her."

"Pardon me, my lady; I did not imagine it your task to humble her! But
you need not let her ride over you as she used to do; she knows nothing
really, and a great many things unreally. Unreal knowledge is worse
than ignorance.--Would not Miss Graeme be a better friend?"

"She is much more lovable; but she does not trouble her head about the
things I care for.--I mean religion," she added hesitatingly.

"So much the better,--"

"Mr. Grant!"

"You did not let me finish, my lady!--So much the better, I was