a wife fit for yourself, I do believe; not good, like you--not wise, like you--but one who was a faithful and true helpmate, and with whom you were content. If you could make a sign to me from the earth, or in the air, this moment, I should not be afraid but that it would be one of love. If you, perchance, have come to know every thought in my heart that was in your time--or if you have read it since you died--or if you read it now--still I should not be afraid! I will endeavour to do my duty still; but ah! how foolish are they who say we always know what _is_ our duty! O Robert, what is mine?” She wrung her hands in pitiful distraction, and throwing herself down by the graveside, whispered, as though to the deaf ear beneath: “The sea has given up its dead to shame me, and thy children, because of me. What is there for me to do for them except to die?” “Hollo, missus! what's wrong wi' _you?_” inquired a deep hoarse voice. “Drunk or sober, I never could abide seeing a woman cry.” At such a time and place, the sudden and unexpected interruption might well have sent a shudder, to any woman's heart, and it was no wonder that my Lady trembled in every limb. But she gathered herself together with a great effort, and drawing her thick crape veil over her face, arose, and steadily confronted the intruder. “Why, it's my Lady herself!” cried the new-comer derisively--“the party as I've promised myself a good look at before I left these diggings. And, dam'me, but now I'll have it. If I'm anyways rude, you will please to put it down to the brandy in which I have been drinking to the very good health of the big black horse. Now, don't be so cursedly proud; your son and I--not Sir Richard, for he's a---- Well, you're his mother, so I won't say what I was agoing to about _him_; but Master Walter, he and I are great friends.--Now, why do you wince? _He_ ain't so high and mighty but that he can borrow money of your humble servant; but there--there's no obligation in that, for I love the lad. He's like--like a dear friend of mine, who was drowned in the sea, years and years ago. Lord, how you do tremble! Why, I'm the last man in the world to hurt a woman, bless you. My nature is altogether soft where they're concerned; and if it were not so, there was a woman once, my Lady, drowned and dead--the same as I was speaking of--for whose sake every woman since has been in my eyes sort of sacred-like; that is, unless I was in drink.”