Once out again upon Oranside, Anne felt the oppression of her terrible secret grow upon her to suffocation. "He is alive! he is alive!"--the words came bursting to her lips; she felt tempted, in the strange, almost irresistible, insanity of the moment, to proclaim it aloud, as she hurried along; running sometimes, with a sick feeling of escaping thereby from the phantom that overshadowed her inmost heart. The crime itself seemed to become dimmer, in its far distance. The thought that Norman was alive, laden with his fearful burden of remorse and blood-guiltiness, abiding perchance the shameful death of the murderer, filled her whole being almost to frenzy, and, with its circle of possibilities, curdled her very blood with terror. Mrs. Ross and Lewis were about sitting down to breakfast, when Anne returned to Merkland, and the domestic horizon was anything but clear. Lewis, forgetful of his last night's sullen petulance, was in high spirits--spirits so high as to aggravate his mother's ill-humor. She grudged that he should have found so much pleasure at the Tower; and, sneering at Mrs. Catherine, whose unquestioned superiority had always galled her, kept up a biting war of inuendo and covert sarcasm. "A pleasant morning for walking, Miss Ross," she said, as Anne took her seat at the table. "Why, Anne, have you been out?" exclaimed Lewis. "You have good taste certainly, so far as weather goes. Where do you go to, so early in the morning?" "Oh, no doubt she has been at the Tower," said Mrs. Ross. "Duncan and May will be going next. We are possessed with a Tower fever. I presume you were making tender inquiries after Mr. Sutherland, Miss Ross? At this time, of course, it is quite sentimental and romantic to entertain a friendship--nay, perhaps, something warmer than friendship--for the interesting unfortunate." "I might have asked for poor Archibald," said Anne, "if I had thought of him at all; but I did not remember even that he had come home." "Then you have been at the Tower?" Anne hesitated. "I did go in to see Mrs. Catherine," she said, falteringly. Lewis looked up gratefully, and smiled upon her with a smile which said, "I thank you;" before which Anne shrank, and turned away her head. "I do not know how we shall get on in the ordinary affairs of life," continued Mrs. Ross, "while this Tower madness lasts. I should like to know wherein the fascination lies. One can understand a passing infatuation, in a boy like Lewis; but for you, Anne, who should have some idea of propriety and decorum, to be visiting the house, where you knew that young man had arrived at night, so very early in the morning--I really am amazed; I do not understand it." Anne blushed painfully: Lewis drew himself up in towering indignation. "Passing infatuation!"--"a _boy_ like Lewis!"