Meanwhile, Kitty was trying to forget her past sorrows in the society of
some newly-made friends in Edinburgh. Here, if anywhere, she might
forget that Rupert Vivian had despised her, and that Hugo Luttrell
accused her of being a heartless coquette. She was not heartless--or, at
least, not more so than girls of eighteen usually are--but, perhaps, she
was a little bit of a coquette. Of course, she had acted foolishly with
respect to Vivian and Hugo Luttrell. But her foolishness brought its own
punishment.

It was on the second day of her visit that a telegram was brought to
her. She tore it open in some surprise, exclaiming:--

"They must have had news of Percival!"

Then she read the message and turned pale.

"What is it?" said one of her friends, coming to her side.

Kitty held out the paper for her to read.

"Elizabeth Murray, Queen's Hotel, Muirside, to Miss Heron, Merchiston
Terrace, Edinburgh. Your father has met with a serious accident, and is
not able to move from Muirside. He wishes you to come by the next train,
which leaves Edinburgh at four-thirty. You shall be met at the Muirside
Station either by Hugo or myself."

"There is time for me to catch the train, is there not?" said Kitty,
jumping up, with her eyes full of tears.

"Oh, yes, dear, yes, plenty of time. But who is to go with you?" said
Mrs. Baxter, rather nervously. "I am so sorry John is not at home; but
there is scarcely time to let him know."

"I can go perfectly well by myself," said Kitty. "You must put me into
the train at the station, Mrs. Baxter, under the care of the guard, if
you like, and I shall be met at Muirside."

"Where is Muirside?" asked Jessie Baxter, a girl of Kitty's age.

"Five miles from Dunmuir. I suppose papa was sketching or something. Oh!
I hope it is not a very bad accident!" said Kitty, turning great,
tearful eyes first on Mrs. Baxter, and then on the girls. "What shall we
do! I must go and get ready instantly."

They followed her to her room, and anxiously assisted in the
preparations for her journey, but even then Mrs. Baxter could not
refrain from inquiring:--

"Who is the person who is to meet you? 'Hugo'--do you know him?"

"Oh, yes, he is Elizabeth's cousin, and Elizabeth is my cousin. We are
connections you see. I know him very well," said Kitty, with a blush,
which Mrs. Baxter remembered afterwards.

"I would go with you myself," she said, "if it were not for the cold,
but I am afraid I should be