dear, you are neither Miss Golden, nor yet the
world. There is a special reason why you
should hear a little whisper."

"I give you warning, Miss Madge," said
Hester, stoutly, "that whatever it may be I
will not believe it."

"Well, my dear, you shall not believe it. If
you have done with Lady Humphrey for ever,
I will even allow you to forget all about it.
But if you keep up a connexion with her,
I advise you to remember, both for your
own sake and the sake of the family in this
house."

Miss Madge was grim and earnest. Her
flightiness had fallen away for the moment,
just as the capering flame had dropped down
in the grate. By-and-by both would spring up
again. But the energy and excitement of the
fire, and of Miss Madge, had for the moment
settled down into a solid glow.

"My dear, not to keep you longer in
suspense," said Miss Madge, dropping her voice
very low, "she was suspected of attempting to
poison Lady Helen."

"I don't believe it!" gasped Hester; but
the colour had gone out of her lips.

"No, my dear, you don't believe it. We
agreed about that. You don't believe a word
of it. And now I shall go on. I was a child
at the time, my dear. I am ten years younger
than Lady Humphrey. I was a little girl of
twelve, and Judith Blake was a young woman
of twenty-two. A handsome creature she was,
as could be seen in the world, only her style
was a little severe. People were terribly afraid
of offending her. Not that she ever flew out
in a passion, but she just gave you a frozen-up
kind of glance out of her eyes, and you knew
that you were booked for the next little
compliment she could find an opportunity of paying
you. And her compliments were not nice, my
dear. Even I, poor little monkey that I was,
without many to notice me, would have rather
sat in a corner all my days than be dragged
out of it by a special attention from Miss
Blake.

"Well, my dear, she had had it all her own
way in this castle for a good many years, and
she intended to keep having it her own way to
the end of her days. She was a distant relation
and dependant of Sir Archie's grandmother, the
old Lady Munro, and she had lived in the castle
from her childhood. Sir John—Archie's father,
my dear—was a handsome young man at the
time. Of course he and Judith had been play-
fellows, and he had a sort of affection for her.
He was the kindliest creature that ever was
born, and he was thoughtful about her
dependent position. He made rather a fuss about
her on that account; and the old lady, too, was
kind and considerate, though she could be a
hard old lady, too, as Judith learned to her
cost.

"Judith had determined to be Lady of Glenluce,
and she might have managed to gain her
point, had not Sir John happened to meet with
Lady Helen.  Cousin Helen at that time was a
lovely creature. You are not to judge of that
from what you see now. She did not wear
well. At that time she was as beautiful as a
Parian statue, and delicate, very delicate. She
hadn't a good head; none of our family had
ever much head to speak of, though lately,
since she has taken so much to hysterics and
sal volatile, I must say she is more weak-minded
than she used to be. But Helen had such a
beautiful face that nobody ever thought about
her head.

"My dear, Sir John fell in love with
Helen, and Helen with Sir John, and the
match was most suitable; and the old lady,
Sir John's mother, was delighted at the
prospect. And Helen was brought here upon a
visit.

"I came with her. Helen was always very
good to me. She liked to have me with her.
It used to be a pleasure to me just to sit and
look at her, she was so lovely. And Helen
knew it, and she indulged me. She used to
write to my mother, 'Send little Madge to me.
I want to be admired. Nobody admires me
properly but little Madge.' You see her beauty
was such an admitted thing that she herself
talked of it quite openly. I was with her
when she received the invitation to Glenluce,
and she accepted, on condition that I should
accompany her. She bought me some pretty
new frocks, the finest I had ever had, and we
arrived at this castle for the first time together.

"I remember how we entered the drawing-
room that evening. I, behind Helen, carrying
her scent-bottle and fan. Helen was twenty-one
just the day before. She sailed into the room
like a swan. She had a long white throat, and
she had a graceful way of turning her head
about upon it and looking down on each side
with a superior sort of air, that made people
feel for the moment as if they liked to be looked
down upon. I remember perfectly her exquisite
appearance—I saw her in an opposite
mirror—as we entered, with her beautiful head
on one side, and my little ugly face peeping out
from behind her white shoulder. For I was a
very ugly child, my dear, just at that time. I
grew up better afterwards, and astonished
everybody. But I was a very ugly child at that
time.

"Judith Blake was sitting just a little behind
the old lady's chair. I thought on the
instant 'what a handsome face!' But that was
one second before she looked up and saw Helen.
Then a strange expression, which I soon grew
familiar with, came over mouth and eyes. I
resolved on the instant to keep out of her way so
long as I should remain in the place.

"Well, my dear, I need not go on giving you
a whole history of the family. From the first
there was enmity between Helen and Judith
Blake. Helen could be very haughty and
slighting to people who did not appreciate her,
and there were some who knew that Judith had
private reasons of her own for disliking the
stranger, without the additional provocation of