ns. They have only one, and that the very simplest
of all motives,--pride. Let me tell you of them." And so he drew his
chair to her side, and began to describe the Ardens.

We do not ask the reader to follow Davenport Dunn in his sketch; enough
that we say his picture was more truthful than flattering, for he
portrayed traits that had often given him offence and suffering.
He tried to speak with a sort of disinterested coldness,--a kind of
half-pitying indifference about "ways and notions" that people estranged
from "much intercourse with the world _will_ fall into;" but his tone
was, in spite of himself, severe and resentful, and scarcely compensated
by his concluding words, "though, of course, to _you_ they will be
amiable and obliging."

"How I wish I could see them, though only for a minute!" said she, as he
finished.

"Have you such confidence, then, in your power of detecting character at
sight?" asked he, with a keen and furtive glance.

"My gift is generally enough for my own guidance," said she, frankly;
"but, to be sure, it has only been exercised amongst the country people,
and they have fewer disguises than those we call their betters."

"I may write word, then, that within a week you will be ready,"
said Dunn, rising. "You will find in that pocket-book enough for any
immediate outlay,--nay, Miss Kellett, it is your own,--I repeat it,
all your own. I am your guardian, and no more." And with a stiffness of
manner that almost repelled gratitude, he took his leave and withdrew.
As he gained the door, however, he stopped, and after a moment came back
into the room. "I should like to see you again before you leave; there
are topics I would like to speak with you on. May I come in a day or
two?"

"Whenever and as often as you please."

Dunn took her hand and pressed it tenderly. A deep crimson overspread
her face as she said "Good-bye!" and the carriage had rolled away ere
she knew that he was gone.

CHAPTER XXVIII. THE HERMITAGE AT GLENGARIFF.

Beside a little arm of the sea, and surrounded by lofty mountains,
stood the cottage of Lord Glengariff. It was originally built as a mere
fishing-lodge, a resting-place in the bathing-season, or a spot to
visit when it was the pleasure of its owners to affect retirement and
seclusion. Then would the Earl and his Countess and the Ladies Julia and
Jemima come down to the Hermitage with a sort of self-approving humility
that seemed to say, "Even _we_ know h