“They want to drive me mad,” she cried, and hurried from the room. The next day but one, she came again with the same request. But she had not been a minute in the library before Lady Hilton came to the door and called her in angry tones. “Presently,” replied Alice, and remained where she was. “Do go, Lady Alice,” I said. “They will send me away if you refuse.” She blushed scarlet, and went without another word. She came no more to the library. CHAPTER XII _Confession_. Day followed day, the one the child of the other. Alice’s old paleness and unearthly look began to reappear; and, strange to tell, my midnight temptation revived. After a time she ceased to dine with us again, and for days I never saw her. It was the old story of suffering with me, only more intense than before. The day was dreary, and the night stormy. “Call her,” said my heart; but my conscience resisted. I was lying on the floor of my room one midnight, with my face to the ground, when suddenly I heard a low, sweet, strange voice singing somewhere. The moment I became aware that I heard it I felt as if I had been listening to it unconsciously for some minutes past. I lay still, either charmed to stillness, or fearful of breaking the spell. As I lay, I was lapt in the folds of a waking dream. I was in bed in a castle, on the seashore; the wind came from the sea in chill _eerie soughs_, and the waves fell with a threatful tone upon the beach, muttering many maledictions as they rushed up, and whispering cruel portents as they drew back, hissing and gurgling, through the million narrow ways of the pebbly ramparts; and I knew that a maiden in white was standing in the cold wind, by the angry sea, singing. I had a kind of dreamy belief in my dream; but, overpowered by the spell of the music, I still lay and listened. Keener and stronger, under the impulses of my will, grew the power of my hearing. At last I could distinguish the words. The ballad was _Annie of Lochroyan;_ and Lady Alice was singing it. The words I heard were these:-- Oh, gin I had a bonnie ship, And men to sail wi’ me, It’s I wad gang to my true love, Sin’ he winna come to me. Lang stood she at her true love’s door, And lang tirled at the pin; At length up gat his fause mother, Says, “Wha’s that wad be in?” * * * * * Love Gregory started frae his sleep, And to his mother did say: “I dreamed a dream this night, mither, That maks my heart right wae. “I dreamed that Annie of Lochroyan, The flower of a’ her kin, Was standing mournin’ at my door, But nane wad let her in.”