So she thought, but whilst she hastened to get ready, and whilst downstairs James Gillan sat by Mr Lee, and whilst he was making apologies for the lateness of their arrival the door of the drawing-room opened unexpectedly. It was the servant who entered, but before she could make any explanation, she was preceded by an intruder who had followed behind her unperceived--a poor woman, poorly dressed, quiet, and shabby, who stood in the midst of the room and courtseyed there. Mr Lee rose to receive her with annoyance on his face; and behind him, unperceived by him, James Gillan also rose--with a pang at his heart that smote, that stabbed his breath, and for the moment took away the power of speech. The sword had fallen!--he felt that it had fallen--he had not time to consider how ruin might be averted even then. CHAPTER XXXII IN THE DRAWING-ROOM OF MR LEE ‘IF you please, sir,’ said Jenny, and, as she spoke, she courtseyed again, ‘if it’s so as ye are Mr Lee I have come to speak with ye. I’ve been speakin’ to this gentleman as they say is your nephy, an’ he won’t listen to me nor make answer to what I say. But I’ve followed him to the town, so as I may see him in your presence, and tell before ye all I’ve to say to him.’ There was silence. The hearts of both men--even of the uncle--must have been beating quickly, for both were panting, and did not reply. Jenny stood in the midst of the room, very pale, and perfectly quiet, but with a self-possession that would have been impossible in her shrinking girlhood--the self-possession that comes with years and trials. Her dress showed signs of her long walk, but it could not conceal that her figure was slight; and her close black bonnet was no unfitting setting for her Madonna-like, worn, troubled face. For years and wretchedness had left her still a lovely woman, and it is possible that Mr Lee may have been aware of it. He did not speak; he had flung himself back in his arm-chair, and, with his chin upon his clenched hand kept his harsh face turned to her. Through the moments that followed the most intense silence reigned; but Jenny was gathering her strength, and after a while she spoke again. ‘It’s a few months ago, sir,’ she said, still addressing Mr Lee, ‘it was just before harvest time that my daughter Annie, my only daughter, went away from her home one night. And then, on the next night, very late, almost on to mornin’, she was lyin’ on my door-step as if she’d not no strength to move. And I took her in, an’ she’d not tell me what had chanced. But on one of her fingers there was a wedding-ring. And the neighbours they talked; they said strange things of her an’ me. But I couldn’t get her to confess, although I tried ever so. It was only to-night, sir, as I’ve been given cause to know who the man might be as took my child from her home.’