‘Margaret, dear Margaret!’ I exclaimed, forgetting everything but herself, ‘it was nothing—indeed it was nothing; a few words spoken at random, of which no one in his senses would think twice, or be so presumptuous as to understand as the interpretation of your true feelings towards him.’ But in my anxiety and ardour I had blurted out far more than I intended. ‘Be silent!’ she cried, as she lifted an indignant burning face to mine—‘be silent, Captain Norton! if you do not wish to insult me, or make me hate myself and you.’ And with that she dashed her hand impetuously across her eyes, and gathering up her reins, turned her horse’s head away from the sea-beach and began to canter towards home. I followed her, of course; but we did not exchange another word, and she would not even condescend to meet the imploring glance which, as I took her from the saddle, I lifted towards her face, mutely entreating for forgiveness. She behaved much the same as usual during the remainder of the evening; only that I saw she studiously avoided coming in contact with myself. What a fool I was to say as much as I did! I, who almost registered a vow this morning that nothing should tear the secret from my lips. And now I have betrayed her to herself. I see she shuns me; I know she fears me; I almost believe I have made her hate me. Well, I have brought it on myself, and I must bear it as best I may; it only proves how little we know when we think—as I did this morning—that the world cannot hold a greater misfortune for us than the one we then endure. Oh, Lionne, Lionne! what is to be the end of this? _August 12th._—I was scarcely surprised when Janie came to-day to tell me in a broken voice that her cousin had just informed her of her intention to leave Mushin-Bunda as soon as possible, and that she had already written to Mrs Grant to ask if she could receive her at Madras until her uncle’s wishes with respect to her movements should be made known. I was not surprised, because I felt convinced that, after what had passed between us yesterday afternoon, her proud spirit would forbid her remaining under the same roof with me, if any alternative were open to her; at the same time I felt deeply hurt to think that my imprudence should be the means of driving her from the shelter of it. Janie, on the other hand, innocent as to the cause, had no reason to feel hurt, except by the want of confidence reposed in her; but she was wonderfully astonished, and disposed to resent my not being so as an additional grievance. ‘Why, you don’t seem in the least surprised to hear it, Robert!’ she complained. ‘Has Margaret said anything about it to you before?’ ‘The subject has never been broached between us; but Miss Anstruther has a right, of course, to follow her own inclinations, and we none to interfere with them.’ ‘No; but what can be the _reason_?’ ‘Did you not ask her, Janie?’ ‘Of course; but she only says that she does not feel so well here as she did at Madras.’