the　fourth　by　the　front　of　the　lodge　itself。
  The　whole　character　of　the　place　was　that
  of　dreary　desertion　and　decay；　which
  would　of　itself　have　predisposed　the　mind
  for　melancholy　impressions。　My　guide
  dismounted；　and　with　respectful　attention
  held　my　horse's　bridle　while　I　got　down；
  and　knocking　at　the　door　with　the　handle
  of　his　whip；　it　was　speedily　opened　by　a
  neatly…dressed　female　domestic；　and　I　was
  admitted　to　the　interior　of　the　house；　and
  conducted　into　a　small　room；　where　a　fire
  in　some　degree　dispelled　the　cheerless　air；
  which　would　otherwise　have　prevailed
  to　a　painful　degree　throughout　the
  place。
  I　had　been　waiting　but　for　a　very　few
  minutes　when　another　female　servant；
  somewhat　older　than　the　first；　entered　the
  room。　She　made　some　apology　on　the
  part　of　the　person　whom　I　had　come　to
  visit；　for　the　slight　delay　which　had　already
  occurred；　and　requested　me　further　to　wait
  for　a　few　minutes　longer；　intimating　that
  the　lady's　grief　was　so　violent；　that　without
  great　effort　she　could　not　bring　herself
  to　speak　calmly　at　all。　As　if　to　beguile
  the　time；　the　good　dame　went　on　in　a
  highly　communicative　strain　to　tell　me；
  amongst　much　that　could　not　interest　me；
  a　little　of　what　I　had　desired　to　hear。　I
  discovered　that　the　grief　of　her　whom　I
  had　come　to　visit　was　excited　by　the
  sudden　death　of　a　little　boy；　her　only
  child；　who　was　then　lying　dead　in　his
  mother's　chamber。
  'And　the　mother's　name？'　said　I；　inquiringly。
  The　woman　looked　at　me　for　a　moment；
  smiled；　and　shook　her　head　with　the　air　of
  mingled　mystery　and　importance　which
  seems　to　say；　'I　am　unfathomable。'　I
  did　not　care　to　press　the　question；　though
  I　suspected　that　much　of　her　apparent
  reluctance　was　affected；　knowing　that　my
  doubts　respecting　the　identity　of　the　person
  whom　I　had　come　to　visit　must　soon
  be　set　at　rest；　and　after　a　little　pause　the
  worthy　Abigail　went　on　as　fluently　as
  ever。　She　told　me　that　her　young
  mistress　had　been；　for　the　time　she　had
  been　with　herthat　was；　for　about　a　year
  and　a　halfin　declining　health　and　spirits；
  and　that　she　had　loved　her　little　child　to　a
  degree　beyond　expressionso　devotedly
  that　she　could　not；　in　all　probability；
  survive　it　long。
  While　she　was　running　on　in　this　way
  the　bell　rang；　and　signing　me　to　follow；
  she　opened　the　room　door；　but　stopped　in
  the　hall；　and　taking　me　a　little　aside；　and
  speaking　in　a　whisper；　she　told　me；　as　I
  valued　the　life　of　the　poor　lady；　not　to　say
  one　word　of　the　death　of　young　O'Mara。
  I　nodded　acquiescence；　and　ascending　a
  narrow　and　ill…constructed　staircase；　she
  stopped　at　a　chamber　door　and　knocked。
  'Come　in；'　said　a　gentle　voice　from
  within；　and；　preceded　by　my　conductress；
  I　entered　a　moderately…sized；　but　rather
  gloomy　chamber。
  There　was　but　one　living　form　within　it
  it　was　the　light　and　graceful　figure　of　a
  young　woman。　She　had　risen　as　I
  entered　the　room；　but　owing　to　the
  obscurity　of　the　apartment；　and　to　the
  circumstance　that　her　face；　as　she　looked
  towards　the　door；　was　turned　away　from
  the　light；　which　found　its　way　in　dimly
  through　the　narrow　windows；　I　could　not
  instantly　recognise　the　features。
  'You　do　not　remember　me；　sir？'　said　the
  same　low；　mournful　voice。　'I　amI　WAS
  Ellen　Heathcote。'
  'I　do　remember　you；　my　poor　child；'
  said　I；　taking　her　hand；　'I　do　remember
  you　very　well。　Speak　to　me　frankly
  speak　to　me　as　a　friend。　Whatever　I　can
  do　or　say　for　you；　is　yours　already；　only
  speak。'
  'You　were　always　very　kind；　sir；　to
  thoseto　those　that　WANTED　kindness。'
  The　tears　were　almost　overflowing；　but
  she　checked　them；　and　as　if　an　accession
  of　fortitude　had　followed　the　momentary
  weakness；　she　continued；　in　a　subdued　but
  firm　tone；　to　tell　me　briefly　the
  circumstances　of　her　marriage　with　O'Mara。
  When　she　had　concluded　the　recital；
  she　paused　for　a　moment；　and　I　asked
  again：
  'Can　I　aid　you　in　any　wayby　advice
  or　otherwise？'
  'I　wish；　sir；　to　tell　you　all　I　have　been
  thinking　about；'　she　continued。　'I　am
  sure；　sir；　that　Master　Richard　loved　me
  onceI　am　sure　he　did　not　think　to
  deceive　me；　but　there　were　bad；　hard…
  hearted　people　about　him；　and　his　family
  were　all　rich　and　high；　and　I　am　sure　he
  wishes　NOW　that　he　had　never；　never　seen
  me。　Well；　sir；　it　is　not　in　my　heart　to　blame
  him。　What　was　_I_　that　I　should　look　at
  him？an　ignorant；　poor；　country　girl
  and　he　so　high　and　great；　and　so　beautiful。
  The　blame　was　all　mineit　was　all　my
  fault；　I　could　not　think　or　hope　he　would
  care　for　me　more　than　a　little　time。　Well；
  sir；　I　thought　over　and　over　again　that
  since　his　love　was　gone　from　me　for　ever；
  I　should　not　stand　in　his　way；　and　hinder
  whatever　great　thing　his　family　wished　for
  him。　So　I　thought　often　and　often　to　write
  him　a　letter　to　get　the　marriage　broken；
  and　to　send　me　home；　but　for　one　reason；
  I　would　have　done　it　long　ago：　there　was
  a　little　child；　his　and　minethe　dearest；
  the　loveliest。'　She　could　not　go　on　for　a
  minute　or　two。　'The　little　child　that　is
  lying　there；　on　that　bed；　but　it　is　dead
  and　gone；　and　there　is　no　reason　NOW　why
  I　should　delay　any　more　about　it。'
  She　put　her　hand　into　her　breast；　and
  took　out　a　letter；　which　she　opened。　She
  put　it　into　my　hands。　It　ran　thus：
  'DEAR　MASTER　RICHARD；
  'My　little　child　is　dead；　and　your
  happiness　is　all　I　care　about　now。　Your
  marriage　with　me　is　displeasing　to　your
  family；　and　I　would　be　a　burden　to　you；
  and　in　your　way　in　the　fine　places；　and
  among　the　great　friends　where　you　must
  be。　You　ought；　therefore；　to　break　the
  marriage；　and　I　will　sign　whatever　YOU
  wish；　or　your　family。　I　will　never　try
  to　blame　you；　Master　Richarddo　not
  think　itfor　I　never　deserved　your
  love；　and　must　not　complain　now　that
  I　have　lost　it；　but　I　will　always　pray
  for　you；　and　be　thinking　of　you　while
  I　live。'
  While　I　read　this　letter；　I　was　satisfied
  that　so　far　from　adding　to　the　poor
  girl's　grief；　a　full　disclosure　of　what　had
  happened　would；　on　the　contrary；　mitigate
  her　sorrow；　and　deprive　it　of　its　sharpest
  sting。
  'Ellen；'　said　I　solemnly；　'Richard
  O'Mara　was　never　unfaithful　to　you；　he
  is　now　where　human　reproach　can　reach
  him　no　more。'
  As　I　said　this；　the　hectic　flush　upon　her
  cheek　gave　place　to　a　paleness　so　deadly；
  that　I　almost　thought　she　would　drop　lifeless
  upon　the　spot。
  'Is　heis　he　dead；　then？'　said　she；
  wildly。
  I　took　her　hand　in　mine；　and　told　her
  the　sad　story　as　best　I　could。　She　listened
  with　a　calmness　which　appeared　almost
  unnatural；　until　I　had　finished　the　mournful
  narration。　She　then　arose；　and　going　to
  the　bedside；　she　drew　the　curtain　and　gazed
  silently　and　fixedly　on　the　quiet　face　of　the
  child：　but　the　feelings　which　swelled　at
  her　heart　could　not　be　suppressed；　the
  tears　gushed　forth；　and　sobbing　as　if　her
  heart　would　break；　she　leant　over　the　bed
  and　took　the　dead　child　in　her　arms。
  She　wept　and　kissed　it；　and　kissed　it　and
  wept　again；　in　grief　so　passionate；　so
  heartrending；　as　to　draw　bitter　tears　from
  my　eyes。　I　said　what　little　I　could　to
  calm　herto　have　sought　to　do　more
  would　have　been　a　mockery；　and　observing
  that　the　darkness　had　closed　in；　I
  took　my　leave　and　departed；　being
  favoured　with　the　services　of　my　former
  guide。
  I　expected　to　have　been　soon　called
  upon　again　to　visit　the　poor　girl；　but
  the　Lodge　lay　beyond　the　boundary　of　my
  parish；　and　I　felt　a　reluctance　to　trespass
  upon　the　precincts　of　my　brother　minister；
  and　a　certain　degree　of　hesitation　in　intruding
  upon　one　whose　situation　was　so
  very　peculiar；　and　who　would；　I　had　no
  doubt；　feel　no　scruple　in　requesting　my
  attendance　if　she　desired　it。
  A　month；　however；　passed　away；　and　I
  did　not　hear　anything　of　Ellen。　I　called
  at　the　Lodge；　and　to　my　inquiries　they
  answered　that　she　was　very　much　worse
  in　health；　and　that　since　the　death　of　the
  child　she　had　been　sinking　fast；　and　so
  weak　that　she　had　been　chiefly　confined
  to　her　bed。　I　sent　frequently　to　inquire；
  and　often　called　myself；　and　all　that　I
  heard　convinced　me　that　she　was　rapidly
  sinking　into　the　grave。
  Late　one　night　I　was　summoned　from
  my　rest；　by　a　visit　from　the　person　who
  had　upon　the　former　occasion　acted　as
  my　guide；　he　had　come　to　summon　me　to
  the　death…bed　of　her　whom　I　had　then
  attended。　With　all　celerity　I　made　my
  preparations；　and；　not　without　considerable
  difficulty　and　some　danger；　we　made　a
  rapid　night…ride　to　the　Lodge；　a　distance
  of　five　miles　at　least。　We　arrived　safely；
  and　in　a　very　short　timebut　too　late。
  I　stood　by　the　bed　upon　which　lay　the
  once　beautiful　form　of　Ellen　Heathcote。
  The　brief　but　sorrowful　trial　was　past
  the　desolate　mourner　was　gone　to　that
  land　where　the　pangs　of　grief；　the　tumults
  of　passion；