When Lady Glencairn, after her arrival at the Duke of Athol’s, found that Robert had not come—indeed she and Lord Glencairn and Sir William Creech, her uncle, had been the first to arrive—she decided recklessly to visit him at his chambers, so she had easily stolen away unnoticed by all save one, on her indiscreet journey. Sir William had seen her as she slipped guiltily out through the conservatory window and had followed her with growing suspicions to the door of Robert’s chamber, where he waited in impotent wrath for her to reappear, after having questioned the guidwife within the inn. And he was not deceived when she came out, wrapped in the disguising cloak and mask. He followed her like a grim servitor till she reached the castle, and as she was noiselessly reëntering by the conservatory window, he called to her to wait. With a startled gasp she turned, and as her eyes rested on her uncle’s accusing face, she gave a little laugh, half scornful, half defiant, and leisurely throwing off her cloak and mask, stood waiting for him to speak. “Ye foolish woman!” he told her angrily. “How could ye be so imprudent, reckless mad, as to visit a man’s chamber at night?” “Don’t preach to me, uncle,” she answered sullenly. “No one knows of my being there, not even Mr. Burns himself.” “But what were ye thinkin’ of to do such a reprehensible act?” he demanded sternly. She turned on him suddenly. “Because I love him!” she exclaimed passionately, casting prudence to the winds. “I went there to tell him of my love, to give myself to him, to beg him to take me away from here, to take me anywhere, only to let me be near him, to stay with him. But I was forced to come away without seeing him, thanks to you.” For a moment he regarded the reckless woman in silence, amazement, shame, and anger struggling for the mastery. “Alice, of what are you thinking?” he ejaculated finally, catching her roughly by the arm. “You must control yourself. I speak for your own good. Think no more of this idle poet, for only shame, ruin and unhappiness can come to ye and your husband, unless ye give up this unholy passion.” She laughed scornfully. “My husband!” she cried bitterly. “Don’t remind me of that fossil! You, and the rest of my family, are to blame for my being fettered, tied to a man I do not love. If it were not for that, I could find the happiness I crave.” “Sh! be calm!” he continued, looking anxiously around. “You may be overheard. Foolish woman! do you forget that Robert Burns, as well as yourself, is married.”