er that she would live here till the days should be longer, and
the weather warm enough for a more comfortable prosecution of her
further journey. He would advise her to take exercise in the garden,
small as it was, and to be cheerful, and preserve her health, in
expectation of the summer, when she would reach a place where all
restrictions on her personal liberty would cease. He would now bid her
farewell.

"You are going back to Edinburgh," said she, rising from her seat by the
fire. "You will see Lord Carse. Tell him that though he has buried his
wife, he has not got rid of her. She will haunt him--she will shame
him--she will ruin him yet."

"I see now--" observed a voice behind her. She turned and perceived
Lord Lovat, who addressed himself to Mr Forster, saying, "I see now
that it _is_ best to let such people live. If she were dead, we cannot
say but that she might haunt him; though I myself have no great belief
of it. As it is, she is safe out of his way--at any rate, till she dies
first. I see now that his method is the right one."

"Why, I don't know, my lord," replied Lady Carse. "You should consider
how little trouble it would have cost to put me out of the way in my
grave; and how much trouble I am costing you now. It is some comfort to
me to think of the annoyance and risk, and fatigue and expense, I am
causing you all."

"You mistake the thing, madam. We rejoice in these things, as incurred
for the sake of some people over the water. It gratifies our loyalty--
our loyalty, madam, is a sentiment which exalts and endears the meanest
services, even that of sequestrating a spy, an informer."

"Come, come, Lovat, it is time we were off," said Mr Forster, who was
at once ashamed of his companion's brutality, and alarmed at its effect
upon the lady. She looked as if she would die on the spot. She had not
been aware till now how her pride had been gratified by the sense of her
own importance, caused by so many gentlemen of consequence entering into
her husband's plot against her liberty. She was now rudely told that it
was all for their own sakes. She was controlled not as a dignified and
powerful person, but as a mischievous informer. She rallied quickly--
not only through pride, but from the thought that power is power,
whencesoever derived, and that she might yet make Lord Lovat feel this.
She curtseyed to the gentlemen, saying, "It is your turn now to jeer,
gentlemen; and to board up win