An indignant appeal to her uncle--her own father's brother--was her first resolve. “Let me learn,” said she to herself, “from his own lips, that such is the destiny he assigns me; that in return for my tried affection, my devotion, he has no other recompense than to lower me in self-esteem and condition together. Time enough, when assured of this, to decide upon what I shall do. But to whom shall I address this demand?” thought she again. “That dear, kind uncle is now struck down by illness. It were worse than cruelty to add to his own sorrows any thought of _mine_. If he have concurred in Lady Dorothea's suggestion, who knows in what light it may have been presented to him, by what arguments strengthened, with what perils contrasted? Is it impossible, too, that the sacrifice may be imperative? The sale of part of the property, the pressure of heavy claims,--all show that it may be necessary to dispose of Cro' Martin. Oh,” exclaimed she, in agony, “it is but a year ago, that when Mr. Repton hinted vaguely at such a casualty, how stoutly and indignantly did I reject it! “'Your uncle may choose to live abroad,' said he; 'to sell the estate, perhaps.' And I heard him with almost scornful defiance; and now the hour is come! and even yet I cannot bring myself to believe it. When Repton drew the picture of the tenantry, forsaken and neglected, the poor unnoticed, and the sick uncared for, he still forgot to assign me my place in the sad 'tableau,' and show that in destitution my lot was equal to their own; the very poorest and meanest had yet some spot, poor and mean though it were, they called a home, that Mary Martin was the only one an outcast!” These gloomy thoughts were darkened as she bethought her that of her little fortune--on which, by Scanlan's aid, she had raised a loan--a mere fragment remained,--a few hundred pounds at most. The outlay on hospitals and medical assistance for the sick had more than quadrupled what she had estimated. The expense once begun, she had persevered with almost reckless determination. She had despatched to Dublin, one by one, the few articles of jewelry and value she possessed for sale; she had limited her own expenditure to the very narrowest bounds, nor was it till driven by the utmost urgency that she wrote the appeal to her uncle of which the reader already knows. “How I once envied Kate Henderson,” cried she, aloud, “the brilliant accomplishments she possessed, the graceful charm that her cultivation threw over society, and the fascination she wielded, by acquirements of which I knew nothing; but how much more now do I envy her, that in those same gifts her independence was secured,--that, high above the chances of the world, she could build upon her own efforts, and never descend to a condition of dependence!”