ess
to appeal to, when the scandal broke out, and when the time came for
repudiating Anne's claim on him as the barefaced imposture of a woman
who was married already to another man. He puffed away unconcernedly at
his pipe, and started, at his swinging, steady pace, for his brother's
house.

Blanche remained alone in the morning-room. The prospect of getting at
the truth, by means of what Geoffrey might say on the next occasion when
he consulted Sir Patrick, was a prospect that she herself had closed
from that moment. She sat down in despair by the window. It commanded a
view of the little side-terrace which had been Anne's favorite walk at
Windygates. With weary eyes and aching heart the poor child looked at
the familiar place; and asked herself, with the bitter repentance that
comes too late, if she had destroyed the last chance of finding Anne!

She sat passively at the window, while the hours of the morning wore on,
until the postman came. Before the servant could take the letter bag she
was in the hall to receive it. Was it possible to hope that the bag had
brought tidings of Anne? She sorted the letters; and lighted suddenly
on a letter to herself. It bore the Kirkandrew postmark, and It was
addressed to her in Anne's handwriting.

She tore the letter open, and read these lines:

"I have left you forever, Blanche. God bless and reward you! God make
you a happy woman in all your life to come! Cruel as you will think me,
love, I have never been so truly your sister as I am now. I can only
tell you this--I can never tell you more. Forgive me, and forget me, our
lives are parted lives from this day."

Going down to breakfast about his usual hour, Sir Patrick missed
Blanche, whom he was accustomed to see waiting for him at the table at
that time. The room was empty; the other members of the household having
all finished their morning meal. Sir Patrick disliked breakfasting
alone. He sent Duncan with a message, to be given to Blanche's maid.

The maid appeared in due time Miss Lundie was unable to leave her room.
She sent a letter to her uncle, with her love--and begged he would read
it.

Sir Patrick opened the letter and saw what Anne had written to Blanche.

He waited a little, reflecting, with evident pain and anxiety, on what
he had read--then opened his own letters, and hurriedly looked at the
signatures. There was nothing for him from his friend, the sheriff,
at Edinburgh, and no communication from t