Doctor Jones retired, endeavouring to comfort himself with the reflection that he had acted purely from a sense of right. But that small, still voice--that voice that may be listened to or not but is always there--convicted him. He knew that because he thought Margaret in the wrong he had been resolved not to agree with her. He got positively hot with sudden tremor. What if Sir Augustus came, and found the man really mad! His opinion would henceforth be valueless, and, just as he thought this, the remembrance of Mr. Drayton's laugh was most uncomfortably present to him. He said nothing to his wife of this; he must not lower himself in her opinion at any rate. When he left the room Grace began to try and think if Paul had ever spoken of meeting Margaret. By degrees then it all came to her. Sir Albert Gerald must have met her, and that reptile of a doctor had seen them speak to each other. At the time she had forgotten this. How difficult life was to her just now, and the fears for Margaret came to her in fuller force than ever. Jean came into the room, her big Bible under her arm, her eyes shining with a look of content and peace. She noticed Grace's troubled expression, and she stroked her long hair. "My bairn," she said, "it's a troublous world at times I know." "It is all sent for the best," said Grace, giving utterance to the platitude nearest her lips at the moment. "Oh! do not say that. You must na say that. We make evil to ourselves, God does _not_ send it." "He allows it," murmured Grace. "Bairn, I ask you, and answer from your own conscience: Who brought all this weary trouble upon us?" She stood like an inspired sybil, her brown face and homely features lighted by a Divine truth, and Grace, looking up, conscience-stricken, could only answer the truth, slowly and solemnly, "It was I, Jean, I myself." END OF VOL. II. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mrs. Dorriman, Volume 2 of 3, by Julie Bosville Chetwynd