tell me
all about it, and let us see how we can put matters right."

Thus encouraged, Kate wiped away the tears which had been brought to her
eyes by the unwonted sound of a friendly voice. Leaning forward as far
as she could, and preventing herself from falling by passing her arm
round a great branch which shot across the top of the shed, she gave in
as few words as she could a detailed account of all that had befallen
her. She described her guardian's anxiety that she should marry his
son, her refusal, their sudden departure from London, their life at the
Priory, the manner in which she was cut off from all human aid, and the
reasons which made her believe that an attempt would be made upon her
life. In conclusion, she narrated the scene which had occurred that
very morning, when her guardian had tempted her to commit suicide. The
only incident which she omitted from her story was that which had
occurred the night before, for she felt that it might put too severe a
tax upon Mrs. Scully's credulity. Indeed, looking back at it, she
almost persuaded herself that the sight which she had seen might be some
phantom conjured up by her own imagination, weakened as she was in mind
and in body.

Having concluded her narrative, she wound up by imploring her new-found
friend to assist her by letting her friends in London know what had
become of her and where she was. Mrs. Scully listened with a face which
expressed alternately the most profound pity and the most burning
indignation. When Kate had finished, she sat silent for a minute or
more entirely absorbed in her own thoughts. She switched her whip up
and down viciously, and her usually placid countenance assumed an
expression so fierce that Kate, looking down at her, feared that she had
given her offence. When she looked up at last, however, she smiled so
pleasantly that the poor girl was reassured, and felt instinctively that
she had really found a true and effective friend at last.

"We must act promptly," she said, "for we don't know what they may be
about, or what their plans are for the future. Who did you say your
friends were?"

"Dr. Dimsdale, of Phillimore Gardens, Kensington."

"Hasn't he got a grown-up son?"

"Yes," said Kate, with a slight flush on her pale cheeks.

"Ah!" cried the good lady, with a very roguish smile. "I see how the
land lies. Of course, of course, why shouldn't it? I remember hearing
about that young man. I have heard about