llen after she had heard that
epithet. No man--no woman--is always strong, always able to bear up
against the unjust opinion, the vilifying word. Calumny, even from the
mouth of a fool, will sometimes cut into unguarded feelings. Shirley
looked like a child that had been naughty and punished, but was now
forgiven and at rest.

"Miss Keeldar," again said the voice. This time it woke her. She looked
up, and saw at her side Louis Moore--not close at her side, but
standing, with arrested step, two or three yards from her.

"O Mr. Moore!" she said. "I was afraid it was my uncle again: he and I
have quarrelled."

"Mr. Sympson should let you alone," was the reply. "Can he not see that
you are as yet far from strong?"

"I assure you he did not find me weak. I did not cry when he was here."

"He is about to evacuate Fieldhead--so he says. He is now giving orders
to his family. He has been in the schoolroom issuing commands in a
manner which, I suppose, was a continuation of that with which he has
harassed you."

"Are you and Henry to go?"

"I believe, as far as Henry is concerned, that was the tenor of his
scarcely intelligible directions; but he may change all to-morrow. He is
just in that mood when you cannot depend on his consistency for two
consecutive hours. I doubt whether he will leave you for weeks yet. To
myself he addressed some words which will require a little attention and
comment by-and-by, when I have time to bestow on them. At the moment he
came in I was busied with a note I had got from Mr. Yorke--so fully
busied that I cut short the interview with him somewhat abruptly. I left
him raving. Here is the note. I wish you to see it. It refers to my
brother Robert." And he looked at Shirley.

"I shall be glad to hear news of him. Is he coming home?"

"He is come. He is in Yorkshire. Mr. Yorke went yesterday to Stilbro' to
meet him."

"Mr. Moore, something is wrong----"

"Did my voice tremble? He is now at Briarmains, and I am going to see
him."

"What has occurred?"

"If you turn so pale I shall be sorry I have spoken. It might have been
worse. Robert is not dead, but much hurt."

"O sir, it is you who are pale. Sit down near me."

"Read the note. Let me open it."

Miss Keeldar read the note. It briefly signified that last night Robert
Moore had been shot at from behind the wall of Milldean plantation, at
the foot of the Brow; that he was wounded severely, but it was hoped not
fatally. Of the as