Before I was aware of her, she bent her head over my hand, and touched it tenderly with her lips. "I am not an ungrateful woman," she murmured--"and yet I don't know how to thank you." The child looked up quickly from her cake. "Why don't you kiss him?" the quaint little creature asked, with a broad stare of astonishment. Her head sunk on her breast. She sighed bitterly. "No more of Me!" she said, suddenly recovering her composure, and suddenly forcing herself to look at me again. "Tell me what happy chance brought you here last night?" "The same chance," I answered, "which took me to Saint Anthony's Well." She raised herself eagerly in the chair. "You have seen me again--as you saw me in the summer-house by the waterfall!" she exclaimed. "Was it in Scotland once more?" "No. Further away than Scotland--as far away as Shetland." "Tell me about it! Pray, pray tell me about it!" I related what had happened as exactly as I could, consistently with maintaining the strictest reserve on one point. Concealing from her the very existence of Miss Dunross, I left her to suppose that the master of the house was the one person whom I had found to receive me during my sojourn under Mr. Dunross's roof. "That is strange!" she exclaimed, after she had heard me attentively to the end. "What is strange?" I asked. She hesitated, searching my face earnestly with her large grave eyes. "I hardly like speaking of it," she said. "And yet I ought to have no concealments in such a matter from you. I understand everything that you have told me--with one exception. It seems strange to me that you should only have had one old man for your companion while you were at the house in Shetland." "What other companion did you expect to hear of?" I inquired. "I expected," she answered, "to hear of a lady in the house." I cannot positively say that the reply took me by surprise: it forced me to reflect before I spoke again. I knew, by my past experience, that she must have seen me, in my absence from her, while I was spiritually present to her mind in a trance or dream. Had she also seen the daily companion of my life in Shetland--Miss Dunross? I put the question in a form which left me free to decide whether I should take her unreservedly into my confidence or not. "Am I right," I began, "in supposing that you dreamed of me in Shetland, as you once before dreamed of me while I was at my house in Perthshire?" "Yes," she answered. "It was at the close of evening, this time. I fell asleep, or became insensible--I cannot say which. And I saw you again, in a vision or a dream." "Where did you see me?"