enying we would devote the whole of
it to charitable uses, as Master Peter Blundell had done; and perhaps
the future ages would endeavour to be grateful. Lorna and I had settled
this question at least twice a day, on the average; and each time with
more satisfaction.

Now coming into the kitchen with all my cash in my breeches pocket
(golden guineas, with an elephant on them, for the stamp of the Guinea
Company), I found dear mother most heartily glad to see me safe and
sound again--for she had dreaded that giant, and dreamed of him--and
she never asked me about the money. Lizzie also was softer, and more
gracious than usual; especially when she saw me pour guineas, like
peppercorns, into the pudding-basin. But by the way they hung about, I
knew that something was gone wrong.

"Where is Lorna?" I asked at length, after trying not to ask it; "I want
her to come, and see my money. She never saw so much before."

"Alas!" said mother with a heavy sigh; "she will see a great deal more,
I fear; and a deal more than is good for her. Whether you ever see her
again will depend upon her nature, John."

"What do you mean, mother? Have you quarrelled? Why does not Lorna come
to me? Am I never to know?"

"Now, John, be not so impatient," my mother replied, quite calmly, for
in truth she was jealous of Lorna, "you could wait now, very well, John,
if it were till this day week, for the coming of your mother, John. And
yet your mother is your best friend. Who can ever fill her place?"

Thinking of her future absence, mother turned away and cried; and the
box-iron singed the blanket.

"Now," said I, being wild by this time; "Lizzie, you have a little
sense; will you tell me where is Lorna?"

"The Lady Lorna Dugal," said Lizzie, screwing up her lips as if the
title were too grand, "is gone to London, brother John; and not likely
to come back again. We must try to get on without her."

"You little--[something]" I cried, which I dare not write down here,
as all you are too good for such language; but Lizzie's lip provoked me
so--"my Lorna gone, my Lorna gone! And without good-bye to me even! It
is your spite has sickened her."

"You are quite mistaken there," she replied; "how can folk of low degree
have either spite or liking towards the people so far above them? The
Lady Lorna Dugal is gone, because she could not help herself; and she
wept enough to break ten hearts--if hearts are ever broken, John."

"Darling Lizzie, how go