"Oh, I have seen it all!" said Lewis, waving his hand: "my mother had the papers ready for me when I came in; she has hoarded them up, I fancy, to let me have the pleasure. If you had not said it, Anne, I should never have believed that the Norman Rutherford she told me of was any brother of ours; but since he is--the evidence it seems to me is irresistible. No, I can't say these letters convince me. It may be all very well to maintain a friend's innocence to the world, but between ourselves, you know, I see nothing in them." Anne turned from him impatiently. "Well!" exclaimed Lewis, "upon my word you bait and badger a man till he does not know his own mind. What would you have me do, Anne? Shall I go away and labor to find this Norman, and beg him to take Merkland off my hands, and permit me to remain his very humble servant? What do you mean? what would you have me do?" "I would have you do the duty of a son and a brother," said Anne; "and if you will not do it, I warn you, Lewis, that I take this work upon myself, however unsuitable it may be for a woman. You have a special stake in it, Lewis--you must see that, till this mystery is cleared, Alice Aytoun is unapproachable to you; the brother of her father's accused murderer can be nothing to her, but a stranger whom she must shrink from and avoid. I know how this will crush poor Alice, but she is far too gentle and good a girl to go to any passionate extreme. You would speak of prejudice, and revenge, and arbitrary custom, Lewis: it is nonsense to say that; but were it only custom and prejudice, Alice will be ruled by it. She will not see you again." "Will she not?" exclaimed Lewis, triumphantly, "we shall soon see. I don't mean to do anything tragical or high-flown, Anne, there's an end of it. Thanks to the difference of name, Alice knows nothing of this, and I do not see the remotest occasion for her ever knowing. I shan't tell her certainly. I intend to write to her mother to-day--you need not look horrified--this shall not keep me back an hour. Why should it? _I_ had no hand in her father's murder; and as for Norman, I am very sorry, but I cannot help him in any way. If he has not deserved this by his guilt, he has by his folly; and it's not to be expected, I fancy, that I should entirely sacrifice myself for the sake of a half-brother whom I never saw--more particularly as the chances are, that the sacrifice would do him no good, and only waste my time, and make me unhappy." "And have you no fear of Mrs. Aytoun and her son?" inquired Anne, in a low voice. "No; the difference of name is very fortunate--how should any one suppose that a Rutherford in the east was the brother of a Ross in the north? Besides, if they _had_ any suspicion, I hope they are sufficiently anxious about Alice and her happiness, to keep it to themselves. We are not in the age of feuds now, sister Anne: don't trouble yourself about it."