I’ve heard say that she kent as much as the doctors themselves. Education makes an awfu’ difference,” said Beenie with humility. I am not sure that Lily was more attached to this new inmate on account of her grand education. But that was, after all, a matter of very secondary importance; and so the days and the weeks went on. There occurred at this time an interval longer than usual between Ronald’s visits, and Lily lost all her happy tranquillity. She became restless, unhappy, full of trouble. “What is to become of me, what is to become of me?” she would cry, wringing her hands. Was she to be left here at the crisis of her fate in a solitude where there was no help, no one to stand by her? She felt in herself a reflection, too, of the visible anxiety of the two women, Beenie and Katrin, who never would let her out of their sight, who seemed to tremble for her night and day. The sight of their anxious faces angered her, and roused her occasionally to send them off with a sharp word, half jest, half wrath. But when she was freed from these tender yet exasperating watchers, Lily would cover her face with her hands and cry bitterly, with a helplessness that was more terrible than any other pain. For what could she do? She could not set out, inexperienced, alone, without money, without knowing where to go. She had, indeed, Ronald’s address; but had he not changed into the new house, if new house there was? Lily began to doubt every thing in this dreadful crisis of her affairs. She had no money, and to travel cheaply in these days was impossible. And how could she get even to Kinloch-Rugas, she who had avoided being seen even by Helen Blythe? She wept like a child in the helplessness of her distress. She did not hear any knock at the door or permission asked to come in, but started to find some one bending over her, and to see that it was the strange woman Marg’ret, Beenie’s supposed cousin. Lily made this discovery with resentment, and bid her hastily go away. “Mem, Mrs. Lumsden,” Marg’ret said. Lily quickly uncovered her face. “You know!” she cried with a mixture, which she could not explain to herself, of increased suspicion, yet almost pleasure; for nobody had as called yet her by that name. “I would be a stupid person indeed if I didna know. Oh, madam, I’ve made bold to come in, for I know more things than that. Beenie would tell you I’ve had an education. I’ve come to beg you, on my bended knees, to give up all thoughts of moving--it’s too late, my dear young leddy--and just make yourself as content as you can here.” “Here!” cried Lily, with a scream of distress. “No, no, no, I must be in my own house. Woman, whoever you are, do you know I’m Miss Ramsay here? It’s not known who I am, and what will they think if any thing--any thing--should happen?” “Are you wanting to conceal it, Mrs. Lumsden?”