d up, started to her
feet with a faint cry, and stood facing me in speechless and motionless
terror.

"Don't be frightened," I said. "Surely you remember me?"

I stopped while I spoke--then advanced a few steps gently--then stopped
again--and so approached by little and little till I was close to her.
If there had been any doubt still left in my mind, it must have been
now set at rest. There, speaking affrightedly for itself--there was
the same face confronting me over Mrs. Fairlie's grave which had first
looked into mine on the high-road by night.

"You remember me?" I said. "We met very late, and I helped you to find
the way to London. Surely you have not forgotten that?"

Her features relaxed, and she drew a heavy breath of relief. I saw the
new life of recognition stirring slowly under the death-like stillness
which fear had set on her face.

"Don't attempt to speak to me just yet," I went on. "Take time to
recover yourself--take time to feel quite certain that I am a friend."

"You are very kind to me," she murmured. "As kind now as you were
then."

She stopped, and I kept silence on my side. I was not granting time
for composure to her only, I was gaining time also for myself. Under
the wan wild evening light, that woman and I were met together again, a
grave between us, the dead about us, the lonesome hills closing us
round on every side. The time, the place, the circumstances under
which we now stood face to face in the evening stillness of that dreary
valley--the lifelong interests which might hang suspended on the next
chance words that passed between us--the sense that, for aught I knew
to the contrary, the whole future of Laura Fairlie's life might be
determined, for good or for evil, by my winning or losing the
confidence of the forlorn creature who stood trembling by her mother's
grave--all threatened to shake the steadiness and the self-control on
which every inch of the progress I might yet make now depended. I
tried hard, as I felt this, to possess myself of all my resources; I
did my utmost to turn the few moments for reflection to the best
account.

"Are you calmer now?" I said, as soon as I thought it time to speak
again. "Can you talk to me without feeling frightened, and without
forgetting that I am a friend?"

"How did you come here?" she asked, without noticing what I had just
said to her.

"Don't you remember my telling you, when we last met, that I was going
to Cumberl