While her stepmother went in search of something to offer her, Kate sat down beside the fire, deep in thought. She had removed her bonnet, and her long silky hair fell in rich masses over her neck and shoulders, giving a more fixed expression to her features, which were of deathlike paleness. And so she sat, gazing intently on the fire, as though she were reading her very destiny in the red embers before her. Her preoccupation of mind was such that she never noticed the opening of the door, nor remarked that her father had entered. The noise of a chair being moved suddenly startled her. She looked up, and there he stood, his hat on his head and his arms closely folded on his breast, at the opposite side of the fire. “Well, lassie,” said he, after a long and steady stare at her, “ye hae left your place, or been turned oot o' it,--whilk is the case?” “I came away of my own accord,” said she, calmly. “And against my Leddy's wish?” “No, with her full consent.” “And how did ye do it? for in her last letter to my sel', she says, 'I desire ye, therefore, to bear in mind that any step she takes on this head'--meaning about going away--'shall have been adopted in direct opposition to my wishes.' What has ye done since that?” “I have succeeded in convincing her Ladyship that I was right in leaving her!” said Kate. “Was it the force of your poleetical convictions that impelled ye to this course?” said he, with a bitter grin, “for they tell me ye are a rare champion o' the rights o' the people, and scruple not to denounce the upper classes, while ye eat their bread.” “I denounce no one; nor, so far as I know myself, is ingratitude amongst my faults.” “Maybe, if one were to tak' your ain narrative for it, ye hae nae faults worse than mere failings! But this is na telling me why ye left my Leddy.” Kate made no answer, but sat steadily watching the fire. “Ye wad rayther, mayhap, that I asked hersel' aboot it! Well, be it so. And noo comes anither point. Do ye think that if your conduct has in any way given displeasure to your mistress, or offended those in whose service ye were,--do ye think, I say, that ye hae the right to involve _me_ in your shame and disgrace?” “Do you mean,” said she, calmly, “that I had no right to come here?” “It 's just exactly what I mean; that if ye canna mak' friends for yoursel', ye ought not to turn away those whilk befriend your family.” “But what was I to have done, then?” said she, gently. “There were circumstances that required--imperatively required me--to leave Lady Dorothea--” “Let me hear them,” said he, breaking in, “It would lead me to speak of others than myself,--of events which are purely family matters,--were I to enter upon this theme. Besides,” said she, rising, “I am not, so far as I know, on my trial. There is not anything laid to my charge. I have no apologies to render.”