Janet, who did not know what was the meaning of it all, but had vague horrible fancies about Tom which she could not clear up, went out next day by herself in the bright August morning to get a little air. She had enough of her mother in her to like the sound of the sea, and to be soothed by it. And the half-comprehended incidents of the previous night and the alarm about Lady Car’s state had shaken Janet. She thought, with the simplicity of her age, that perhaps if she went away a little, was absent for an hour or so from the room, that her mother would not look so pale when she came back, and Lady Car’s smile went to Janet’s heart. It was too like an angel’s, she thought to herself. A living woman ought not to be too like an angel. Her eyes kept filling with tears as she wandered along looking out upon the sea. But gradually the bright air and the light that was in the atmosphere and the warmth of the sunshine stole into Janet’s heart and dried the tears in her eyes. She went into the green enclosure of the ruined castle and sat down upon the old wall looking out to sea. She could see the place where she and Beau had come upon that strange group among the rocks. She had not made out yet what it meant. As she sat there gazing out and lost in her own thoughts and wonderings, a voice suddenly sounded at her ear which made her start--‘Oh, my bonnie Miss Janet,’ it said, ‘have I found you at last!’ Janet turned slowly round aghast. The colour forsook her face, and all strength seemed to die out of her. She had known it would come one time or other. She had steeled herself for such a meeting every time she had been compelled to leave the shelter of the Towers; but now that she was far away, in a place which had no association with him, surely--surely she should have been safe now. And yet she had known beforehand, always known that some time this would come. His voice sank into her soul, taking away all her strength and courage. What hold Janet supposed this man to have over her who could tell? She feared him as if he had it in his power to carry her away against her will or do some dreadful harm. The imagination of a girl has wild and causeless panics as well as gracious visions. She trembled before this man with a terror which she did not attempt to account for. She turned round slowly a panic-stricken, colourless face. ‘Why, what is the matter with you, my bonnie little lady? Are ye feared for me?’ ‘Oh, Mr. Charlie,’ said Janet, ‘don’t speak to me here. If anybody were to see you! And mother--mother is in great trouble already. Oh, don’t speak to me here!’ ‘Do you mean you will speak to me in some other place? I’m well content if ye’ll do that--some place where we will be more private, by ourselves. Ye may be sure that’s what I would like best.’ ‘I did not mean that,’ said Janet in great distress. ‘Oh, Mr. Charlie, don’t speak to me at all! I am very unhappy--already.’