“She has had a letter from him since she came to Poppleton, I learn.” “Yes, sir.” “What did he say?” “He pretends to be sorry for what he has done, promises never to drink any more, and wants her to return.” “Does he say anything about the marriage in the letter?” “Not a word; but he says he shall come and see her soon. He had better not,” added Ross, with compressed lips and gleaming eyes. “Don’t harm him, Ross; perhaps the matter may be settled.” “Settled!” exclaimed Ross, jumping out of his chair. “He can’t settle this matter, but I can, if I get my hand upon him!” “If you should assault him, or anything of that kind, you might injure your sister more than you injured him.” “I hope he will keep out of my way, Mr. Hungerford; but if I see him, his doom is sealed.” “We are going to do something for Mary, Ross; we are going to restore her good name, at least. Now, you must not defeat our intentions by any rashness on your part. Keep cool, Ross.” “How can I keep cool, Mr. Hungerford, when my poor sister has been ruined by a villain?” Ross wept like a child, and Eugene felt that his own grief was not to be compared with his. When they parted, he counselled him repeatedly not to resort to any violence, if Mr. Buckstone should visit The Great Bell. CHAPTER X. ROSS KINGMAN. Ross Kingman left Pine Hill at nine o’clock in the evening. Since Mary’s return to Poppleton he had been almost constantly with her. When he was sent for by Eugene Hungerford, she made no objection to his going. She sat in her chamber as usual that evening. Though all her life since she came to years of discretion had been full of cares and trials, though she had endured much of the shame and mortification brought upon the family by the conduct of her father, the past, in contrast with the present, seemed full of joys and hopes. Only a few brief months before, her lot had been happy, compared with her present condition. She had been deceived, and she felt that henceforth she was to be an outcast. Those who had been her friends would shun her now. The scorn of the cold world would be heaped upon her, whatever the degree of her guilt. Those terrible hours of the gloomy night when she had been driven from her father’s house came to her mind; her meeting with Eliot Buckstone in the morning, when, upon condition that she should become his wife before the sun went down, she had consented to flee with him to find the comforts of a home, if not the joys of a wife.