Mrs. Dorriman was one of the women whose lives have been pursued by perpetual failure. Her childhood had been a neglected one, her youth had been the same; she was hurried into a marriage with a man much older than herself, whom, if she did not dislike, she had no real love for, and towards whom, when adversity came, she had nothing to draw her, for adversity is the highest test of love, and if there is no deep affection the breath of non-success kills it at once. She was sorry when he died; but she had a deep-seated feeling that in some way every thing was his own fault--and she blamed him so much, and was so sorry for herself, that she had no room for pity. Only when he died and had given one half reproachful, half imploring look, a dim sense of some want in herself and of her injustice came to her, and she had suddenly bent down and kissed him, and she was always glad of this; she had forgiven him at the last, and had let him know it. For some years now she had lived at Inchbrae, understanding vaguely how she came to live there, and how her income arrived. Everything was confusion to her on this subject. She never knew how it was that all she had came from her brother. Her husband had been a wealthy man when she had married him; and though they had moved from one place to another, and always seemed to be going back, instead of going forward, still it seemed strange to her that she was dependent and not independent. The remembrance of those early days had taught her in some measure to comprehend her brother's character, her brother who was her half-brother, a tie which can be made so close, or so far apart! This remembrance gave her a conviction lying well hid up in her secret heart, that but for some great reason the ostensible kindness would not be there; and half-frightened, indeed more than half-frightened, at the temerity of her thoughts she rose suddenly from her seat, and was recalled to her present position by the letter which fluttered to the ground. This letter requested her in terms, which amounted to a command, to give up her house and come and live with him--not to let the house, but to sell it; indeed, he informed her that, having no doubt as to her being glad to do as he wished, he had already taken steps to effect this.