n on the
face of the earth who could help me.

"My poor Tardif," I said, laying my hand on his shoulder, "I am a great
trouble to you."

"I cannot bear to let you go in this way," he replied, without looking
up. "If it had been to marry Dr. Martin--why, then--but you have to go
alone, poor little child!"

"Yes," I said, "alone."

After that we were both silent for some minutes. We could hear the
peaceful lapping of the water at our feet, and its boom against the
rocks, and the shrieking of the sea-gulls; but there was utter silence
between us two. I felt as if it would break my heart to leave this
place, and go whither I knew not. Yet there was no alternative.

"Tardif," I said at last, "I will go first to London. It is so large a
place, nobody will find me there. Besides, they would never think of me
going back to London. When I am there I will try to get a situation as
governess somewhere. I could teach little children; and if I go into a
school there will be no one to fall in love with me, like Dr. Martin. I
am very sorry for him."

"Sorry for him!" repeated Tardif.

"Yes, very sorry," I replied; "it is as if I must bring trouble
everywhere. You are troubled, and I cannot help it."

"I have only had one trouble as great," he said, as if to himself, "and
that was when my poor little wife died. I wish to God I could keep you
here in safety, but that is impossible."

"Quite impossible," I answered.

Yet it seemed too bad to be true. What had I done, to be driven away
from this quiet little home into the cold, wide world? Poor and
friendless, after all my father's far-seeing plans and precautions to
secure me from poverty and friendlessness! What was to be my lot in that
dismal future, over the rough threshold of which I must cross to-morrow?

Tardif and I talked it all over that evening, sitting at the
cottage-door until the last gleam of daylight had faded from the sky. He
had some money in hand just then, which he had intended to invest the
next time he went to Guernsey, and could see his notary. This money,
thirty pounds, he urged me to accept as a gift; but I insisted upon
leaving with him my watch and chain in pledge, until I could repay the
money. It would be a long time before I could do that, I knew; for I was
resolved never to return to Richard Foster, and to endure any privation
rather than claim my property.

I left Tardif after a while, to pack up my very few possessions. We did
not tell his