them; and that I would rather serve them as a menial than live away from them. Better to die than this. And, what will this life at Arran be? This uncle, too, I dread him; and yet, I long to see him. I want to hear him call me by his own name, and acknowledge me as a Luttrell. Oh, if he had but done this before--before I had travelled this weary road of deception and falsehood! Who knows? Who knows?” “Are you the young lady, Miss, that’s expecting an elderly gentleman?” said the housemaid, entering hastily. “Where from? How did he come?” cried Elate, eagerly; for her first thought was, it might be Sir Within. “He came by the Irish packet, Miss.” “Yes that is quite right. If he asks for Miss Luttrell, you may say I am ready to see him.” In a minute or two after she had given this order, the girl again opened the door, saying: “Mr. Coles, Miss;” and introduced a florid, fussy-looking little man, with a manner compounded of courtesy and command. “You may leave the room, young woman,” said he to the maid; and then, approaching Kate, added, “I have the honour to speak to Miss Luttrell?” She bowed a quiet assent, and he went on: “I’m chief managing-clerk of Cane and Co., Miss Luttrell, from whom I received instructions to wait on you here, and accompany you to Westport, where Mr. John Luttrell will have a boat ready for you.” He delivered this speech with a something half-peremptory, as though he either suspected some amount of resistance to his authority, or imagined that his credentials might be questioned. “Have you no letter for me, Sir?” asked she, calmly. “There was a letter from Mr. Luttrell to Mr. George Cane, Miss Luttrell, explaining why he was not himself able to come over and meet you.” “Was he ill, Sir?” “No, not exactly ill, Miss Luttrell, though he is never what one can call well.” “I am astonished he did not write to me,” said she, in a low, thoughtful tone. “He is not much given to writing, Miss Luttrell, at any time, and of late we have rarely heard from him beyond a line or two. Indeed, with respect to my present journey, all he says is, ‘Send some one in your confidence over to Holyhead by the first packet to inquire for Miss Luttrell, or Miss O’Hara--she may be known by either name--and conduct her to Elridge’s Hotel, Westport. The young lady is to be treated with all consideration.’ These are his words, Miss, and I hope to follow them.” “It is very kind,” said she slowly, and half to herself. “It’s a Frenchified sort of phrase, ‘all consideration,’ but I take its meaning to be, with every deference to your wishes--how you would like to travel, and where to stop. Mr. George, however, told me to add, ‘If Miss Luttrell desires to make any purchases, or requires anything in town, she is to have full liberty to obtain it.’ He did not mention to what amount, but of course he intended the exercise of a certain discretion.” “I want nothing, Sir.”