"My lady--your grace, I should say--when I started to come here this morning, to bring you the news I have to tell, my heart was _that_ full of anger against him and you, for the deep wrongs done to one I know and love, that I did not care how suddenly I told it, or how awfully it might shock you. But now that I see you, dear lady--grace, I mean--I do hate myself for having of such a tale to tell. But, for all that--for your sake as well as for hers, I must tell it," said the woman, solemnly. "For Heaven's sake, go on! What is it you have to tell me?" inquired the bride, in a fainting voice. "Well, then, your lady, my grace--Oh, dear! I know that ain't the right way to speak, but--" "No matter! no matter! Only tell me what you have to tell and have done with it!" said Salome, impatiently at last. "Well, then--I beg ten thousand pardons, my lady, but did your ladyship ever hear tell, up your way in Scotland, of a very handsome young woman of the lower orders, by the name of Rose Cameron?" "Yes, I have heard of such a girl," answered the bride, in a low tone, averting her face. "I thought your ladyship must have heard of her. And now--I beg a million of pardons, my lady--but did your ladyship ever happen to hear of a certain person's name mentioned alongside of hers?" "I decline to answer a question so improper. What can such a question have to do with your present business?" inquired the bride, with more of gentle dignity than we have ever known her to assume. "It has a great deal to do with it, your ladyship. It has everything to do with it, as I shall soon prove to your grace. Take no offence, dear lady. I won't use any name to trouble you. And I won't say anything but what I can prove. Will you let me go on on them terms, your ladyship?" humbly inquired the messenger. "Yes, yes, if you only WILL be quick. I _wish_ you to go on. I believe you to mean well, though I do not exactly know what you really _do_ mean," said Salome, nervously. "Well, then, my lady, if you ever heard of this handsome Highland peasant girl, called Rose Cameron, you must have heard that she lived long of her old father, a shepherd, dwelling at the foot of Ben Lone, near by where--a--a certain person had his shooting-lodge. My dear lady, it is the same wicked old story as we hear over and over again, and a many times too often. Well, the young man--a certain person, I mean--while at his shooting-box, foot of Ben Lone, happened to see this handsome lass, and fell in love with her at first sight, as certain persons sometimes do with young peasant girls as they oughtn't to marry. But mayhap your ladyship have heard all this before." Salome had heard it all before; and now, in silence and sadness, she was wondering what she had to hear more; but certainly not expecting to hear the degrading revelation her visitor had still to make.