," she answered, "and is worthy of you, dear
John. And now remember one thing, dear; if God should part us, as may be
by nothing short of death, try to marry that little Ruth, when you cease
to remember me. And now for the head-traitor. I have often suspected it:
but she looks me in the face, and wishes--fearful things, which I cannot
repeat."

With these words, she moved an implement such as I had not seen before,
and which made a ringing noise at a serious distance. And before I had
ceased wondering--for if such things go on, we might ring the church
bells, while sitting in our back-kitchen--little Gwenny Carfax came,
with a grave and sullen face.

"Gwenny," began my Lorna, in a tone of high rank and dignity, "go and
fetch the letters which I gave you at various times for despatch to
Mistress Ridd."

"How can I fetch them, when they are gone? It be no use for him to tell
no lies--"

"Now, Gwenny, can you look at me?" I asked, very sternly; for the matter
was no joke to me, after a year's unhappiness.

"I don't want to look at 'ee. What should I look at a young man for,
although he did offer to kiss me?"

I saw the spite and impudence of this last remark, and so did Lorna,
although she could not quite refrain from smiling.

"Now, Gwenny, not to speak of that," said Lorna, very demurely, "if you
thought it honest to keep the letters, was it honest to keep the money?"

At this the Cornish maiden broke into a rage of honesty: "A putt the
money by for 'ee. 'Ee shall have every farden of it." And so she flung
out of the room.

"And, Gwenny," said Lorna very softly, following under the
door-hangings; "if it is not honest to keep the money, it is not honest
to keep the letters, which would have been worth more than any gold to
those who were so kind to you. Your father shall know the whole, Gwenny,
unless you tell the truth."

"Now, a will tell all the truth," this strange maiden answered, talking
to herself at least as much as to her mistress, while she went out of
sight and hearing. And then I was so glad at having my own Lorna once
again, cleared of all contempt for us, and true to me through all of it,
that I would have forgiven Gwenny for treason, or even forgery.

"I trusted her so much," said Lorna, in her old ill-fortuned way; "and
look how she has deceived me! That is why I love you, John (setting
other things aside), because you never told me falsehood; and you never
could, you know."

"Well, I am no