gitate her by saying more; I left all
other questions to be asked at a fitter and a quieter time. You will
understand from this how terribly she suffers, how wildly and strangely
she acts under violent agitation; and you will not interpret against her
what she said or did when you saw her on Wednesday last.

"We only returned to the house in time to hasten away from it to the
train. Perhaps it was better for us so--better that we had only a
moment left to look back before the turn in the road hid the last of
Combe-Raven from our view. There was not a soul we knew at the station;
nobody to stare at us, nobody to wish us good-by. The rain came on again
as we took our seats in the train. What we felt at the sight of the
railway--what horrible remembrances it forced on our minds of the
calamity which has made us fatherless--I cannot, and dare not, tell you.
I have tried anxiously not to write this letter in a gloomy tone; not
to return all your kindness to us by distressing you with our grief.
Perhaps I have dwelt too long already on the little story of our parting
from home? I can only say, in excuse, that my heart is full of it; and
what is not in my heart my pen won't write.

"We have been so short a time in our new abode that I have nothing more
to tell you--except that Miss Garth's sister has received us with the
heartiest kindness. She considerately leaves us to ourselves, until we
are fitter than we are now to think of our future plans, and to arrange
as we best can for earning our own living. The house is so large, and
the position of our rooms has been so thoughtfully chosen, that I should
hardly know--except when I hear the laughing of the younger girls in the
garden--that we were living in a school.

"With kindest and best wishes from Miss Garth and my sister, believe me,
dear Mr. Pendril, gratefully yours,

"NORAH VANSTONE."

II.

_From Miss Garth to Mr. Pendril._

"Westmoreland House, Kensington,

"September 23d, 1846.

"MY DEAR SIR--I write these lines in such misery of mind as no words can
describe. Magdalen has deserted us. At an early hour this morning she
secretly left the house, and she has not been heard of since.

"I would come and speak to you personally; but I dare not leave Norah. I
must try to control myself; I must try to write.

"Nothing happened yesterday to prepare me or to prepare Norah for this
last--I had almost said, this worst--of all our afflictions. The only
alteration we