“Yes, I have heard everything,” her ladyship returned witheringly, “and my suspicions of you of two years ago have turned out to be right.” “Please say no more now, Lady Glencairn,” retorted Jean sullenly. “Let me go.” She tried to pass, but Lady Glencairn put a restraining hand upon her shoulder. “I will say no more, you foolish girl,” she replied angrily. “Why do you insist upon thrusting yourself upon Robert Burns, to-night? He utterly detests your memory. He has done with you forever.” Jean looked at her defiantly. “I am his wife. He must acknowledge me,” she declared firmly. Lady Glencairn laughed scornfully. “You foolish child, do you think he will ever forgive you for stepping in between him and Mary Campbell again?” she asked with studied indifference. “No, he would hate you; you know his erratic temper, my dear Jean; you would but ruin your chance for a reconciliation forever, if he sees you now, when his heart is torn by grief and sorrow at losing for the second time the one lass who is all the world to him.” She paused and watched narrowly the look of dread and doubt creep slowly over the downcast face before her. By and by Jean looked up, her eyes burning with unshed tears and shining feverishly. “What shall I do then, Lady Glencairn?” she asked helplessly, “where shall I go?” Lady Glencairn did not answer for a few moments. She was thinking with a thrill of joy that Jean’s coming would separate the two lovers forever. “More than likely Robert would now remain in Edinburgh,” she mused with wildly beating heart. “But, on the other hand, if he stayed he would quixotically marry Jean Armour, and publicly right her in the eyes of the world,” she thought jealously, “and then——” She broke off and stared at the girl intently. “If she were out of the way,” she thought maliciously, “might not his fickle fancy be caught in the rebound?” These thoughts flowed quickly through her brain, and her eyes half shut wickedly, her gleaming white bosom heaving from her hurried breathing, as she decided on her course. “You must leave here at once,” she said softly, taking Jean’s hand with an affectation of tenderness. “I cannot return to my father,” she replied dully. “I have nowhere to go now.” “Go to an inn for to-night,” said her ladyship hurriedly, “and I’ll come to you in the morning and advise you as to your future movements, and help you.” “But I must see Robert first.” Lady Glencairn frowned impatiently. “Foolish girl, take my advice and wait until to-morrow. You will lose nothing by it, for I will myself plead with Robert in your behalf.” Jean did not answer. She stood mute and undecided. “Surely, my dear Jean,” continued Lady Glencairn mockingly, “you don’t expect him to proclaim you as his dearly beloved wife before them all, do you?” She waved her hand carelessly toward the drawing-room. Jean flushed and looked away. “No, I didn’t come for that,” she muttered slowly.