"The matter is safe with me, Miss Brandon," said the physician, bowing. "We have to hear so many strange things in the course of our profession that it would never do if we were not men of discretion." "Thank you, Dr. Rivers," said my sister heartily, as he took leave of us. Larry drove us home on a jaunting-car that reminded me of our equipage long ago at Annagassan Races. As we drove along, the mountains were gray with rain, and the first fine sweep of it came in our faces. "How shall I get back to Annagower if it comes on to rain heavily?" said Esther, as we leant close together under an umbrella. "Don't go back to-night, Essie," said I. "Sleep with me as in the old times. We can send word to Lady O'Brien that the weather has kept you." "I should like to stay," she said. "I have such wonderful things to tell you, Essie," I whispered, "_about myself_." She looked at me with wonder. "More literary successes, Hilda?" she asked. "No, Essie, not literary successes." "And what, then, Hilda?" She turned straight round, letting the umbrella drip upon our heads, unnoticed, and looked into my eyes. "Not that, Hilda?" she said, incredulously. "And why not that?" I cried. "I suppose you think no one in the world has a lover but yourself." "You darling!" she said; "and to think I can't hug you because of this umbrella!" "You might as well, Essie, for the rain has been pouring down my spine in a perfect cascade for the last five minutes." "Oh, I am sorry, you poor child! But here we are at Brandon. Find me a messenger for my godmother, Hilda, and I shall stay, and we shall have a dearer talk than ever we had in the old days. Oh, to think," she cried, as she furled, much to my relief, that most inefficient umbrella, "that all our dreams should have come true! Oh, how good God is, Hilda, how good God is!" I looked at her glowing face in wonder. Clearly there was no misgiving for the future in it. Her joy and faith were infectious, and I too felt my heart singing a song, despite the rain and the gloom, and despite my memory of the worn and haggard young face of Esther's lover. CHAPTER XXIX. THE LAST OF CASTLE ANGRY. We captured little Tim Brophy from Brandon village, just as he turned away after delivering his basket of eggs at the kitchen-door, and kept him till Esther's note to her godmother was written. "Run fast, Tim," said Esther as she gave it to him, "or you'll be drenched before you get back." "Never fear, Miss Esther," he answered cheerfully. "I'll be back before I'm gone." And, to judge by the rate of speed at which his bare legs and red head disappeared, he would keep his word in the spirit, if not in the letter. We sat with Aline in her lamp-lit room over the teacups, and Esther made her confession, even to the events of the morning. Poor Aline looked bewildered as the tale proceeded.