Elizabeth," she said with an effort at calm, "the only possible excuse
that can be made for your conduct is that you must have been out of
your mind when you acted so. If you realized what you were doing, you
have acted criminally. You have brought this consumptive girl here,
and endangered Mary's life, just when I felt she was beginning to be
strong. You have destroyed John's prospects. He cannot possibly
accept this position, since you have treated Mr. Huntley in this
fashion. You have utterly ruined your own chances in life. And what
chances you have had! Never was a girl so fortunate as you. But you
have all your life deliberately flung aside every piece of good fortune
that came your way. And wait,"--as Elizabeth strove to speak--"this is
not the worst. You have never known that we live here in The Dale
merely by Mrs. Jarvis's favor. Your father has no deed for this
property, no more than old Sandy McLachlan had for his. He might claim
it by law, now,--but if Mrs. Jarvis asks us to leave, we must do so.
Thank Heaven, some of the Gordons have pride! And that she will ask us
now, after the outrageous manner in which you have met all her
generosity, I have not the slightest doubt. We shall all be turned out
of our home, and you will bring your father's gray hairs down with
sorrow to the grave."

She arose and walked up and down, wringing her hands. Her extravagant
words and actions were so pregnant with genuine grief and despair, that
they smote Elizabeth's heart with benumbing blows. Mary, John, her
aunt, and now the best beloved of all--her father! She was bringing
ruin upon them all! Totally unaccustomed to deliberate thinking, she
was unable to view the situation calmly, and took every accusation of
her aunt's literally.

"Aunt Margaret!" she cried desperately, moved more by the sight of the
stately woman's abandon than by the thought of her own shortcomings.
"Oh, Aunt Margaret,--don't! It may not be so bad! And can't you see I
didn't mean to do wrong? Oh, I truly didn't. You always taught us to
do our duty first. We knew it was the sense of duty that kept you here
when you wanted to go back to Edinburgh. And I felt it was my duty to
bring Eppie and come away. Oh, if you could only have seen the place
where poor old Sandy died! And Eppie need not stay here. Tom and
Granny Teeter want to take her--and the Cleggs, and,--oh, if you'll
only forgive me!" Elizabeth broke down completely. Sh