"You think he killed your husband. I am not given to hasty judgment, nor am I easily misguided. He did not do it; and when I tell you that your bairn Alison is plighted to a near kinsman of Norman Rutherford's, I lay my charge upon you not to let your heart sink within you, or suffer the bairn's bit gentle spirit to be broken again. I pledge you my word, that they will seek no further consent from you, till Norman's righteousness is clear to your eyes as the morning light. There are two urgent reasons pressing them--I am meaning Lewis Ross, and his sister, my own Anne,--on this work; the winning of your pleasant bairn and the clearing of their brother's lost fame and honor. "For he is their brother, their nearest kin. Again, I charge you, think of this terrible doom laid upon a gallant of as clear and lofty a spirit as ever was in mortal knowledge; and let the mother's heart within you have compassion on his name. Shut not your mind against the proof--it may be hard to gather--and take time and patience; but if mortal hands can compass it, it shall be laid before you soon or syne. "Lewis Ross (trusting you will receive him) will shortly tell you of this himself, with his own lips; and having maybe some right of counsel, in virtue of my years, and of our kindred, it is my prayer that you put no discouragement in this way. "Be content to wait till the proof is brought to you; and break not the gentle spirit of the bairn, by crossing her in the first tenderness of her youth. CATHERINE DOUGLAS." Mrs. Aytoun was greatly agitated. James had entered the room, and stood in silent astonishment, as he looked at Alice clinging to her mother's knee, and the letter trembling in Mrs. Aytoun's hand. "Mother--Alice--what has happened? What is the matter?" Mrs. Aytoun handed the letter to him in silence, and, lifting her daughter up, drew her close to her breast: "My Alice! my poor, simple bairn! why did I let you away from me?" The girl clung to her mother, terrified, ashamed, and dizzy.--She trembled to hear some fatal sentence, parting her for ever from Lewis. She fancied she could never lift up her blushing face again, to speak of him, even if that terror were withdrawn: she could only lean on that kind breast, and cling, as is the nature of such gentle, dependent spirits. Anne Ross's words were true.--Had Mrs. Aytoun but said that she must never see Lewis again, poor little Alice would have submitted without a struggle, and would have been right; she was safe in that wise guidance--she was not safe in her own. But Mrs. Aytoun's motherly lips gave forth no such arbitrary mandate. She rose, still holding Alice within her arm. "James," she said, "that letter is a most important one: read it carefully.--We will join you again by-and-by."