The house had the exhausted, worn-out look which is common after such a solemn departure. Marget sat, dressed in her new mourning, in the kitchen, in languid despondent state, telling Jacky traits of the dead Master, whom, now that all excitement was over, she began to miss and lament, and weep some natural tears for. Jacky was half-listening to these, half-buried in an old volume of "Quarles' Emblems," which she had recently brought from the study. Anne had opened the low projecting window, and sat in the recess with one of those devout contemplative books in her hand; she was reading little, and thinking much--feeling herself affected by the listless weariness that reigned around her. She saw a lad come in at the gate, without observing who he was. In a minute after Jacky entered the study. "If ye please, Miss Anne, it's Johnnie Halflin." Anne started. "Has he come from Mrs. Catherine?" "If ye please, Miss Anne, Mrs. Catherine's at Miss Crankie's." Anne rose immediately, and proceeded up the lane to Miss Crankie's house. Mrs. Catherine's carriage stood at the door. Mrs. Catherine herself was in the parlor, where Miss Crankie stood in deferential conversation with her--keenly observant of all the particulars of her plain, rich dress and stately appearance, and silently exulting over the carriage at the door--the well-appointed, wealthy carriage, which all the neighborhood could see. "Anne!" exclaimed Mrs. Catherine, as Anne in her deep mourning dress entered the room. "What is the matter?" Miss Crankie sensibly withdrew. "He is dead, Mrs. Catherine," said Anne. "Who is dead? Who is this lad?" "The brother of Marion--the brother of Norman's wife." "Anne," said Mrs. Catherine, "you have not dealt ingenuously and frankly with me in this matter. Who is this lad, I ask you? Have you a certainty that Norman's wife was his sister, that you are thus mourning for a fremd man?" Anne sat down beside her. "What I knew formerly was so dim and indistinct that I feared to tell you. They avoided me--they went away from their own home to shun my presence. In the confusion of my imperfect knowledge, I felt that I could not speak of them. Now I am sure. There is a most sad story to tell you, Mrs. Catherine--Patrick Lillie is Marion's brother--he is more than that." "Speak out, child. Who is he?" "He is the man for whom Norman sacrificed all--he is the slayer of Alice Aytoun's father." Mrs. Catherine started--in her extreme wonder she could say nothing. "An innocent man, Mrs. Catherine; this dreadful deed was done unawares, and in a life of agony has it been avenged." Mrs. Catherine remained silent for a moment. "And he let Norman, the honorable, generous, just lad, suffer a death for him--suffer the death of a lifetime? Anne--Anne, is it a coward like this you are mourning for? A faint heart and a weak spirit--what could it be other that would let a righteous man bear this for him?"