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And look here!" continued the girl, impetuously, as she took a small morocco letter-case from her bosom and opened it, and took out one after another a parchment, a letter, and a photograph. "Yes, dear, I'll look at anything you like," said the housekeeper, with a sigh, for she thought she was only humoring a lunatic. "Here's my marritge lines.
Ye maun see her, and tell her anent mysel' here, betrayed into prison sae I canna come to warn her. And show her my marritge lines, and my letter, and my laird's pictur' the foul fien' fly awa' wi' him! and tell her, gin she dinna believe them, to gae to the auld kirk o' St. Margaret's, Wes'minster, and look at the register, and see the minister, Mr. Smith, and the clerk, Mr.
"You may be sure o' that, my poor young lady; for if things be as they seem, you have suffered much wrong," earnestly answered the woman. "Aweel, then, tak' my marritge lines, my letter, and this likeness o' my laird and may the black de'il burn him in " "Oh, my dear child, don't say that. It is dreadful. Tell me what I am to do with these papers and this picture."
He wad na hae me without marritge ye suld ken." "No offence, my dear young madam. None at all. I was only astonished, that's all," said the housekeeper, deprecatingly, though she wondered and doubted whether all she heard and saw was truth. "And, here! See here! Here is a letter I got frae him sune after the wedding. Ye ken the Dooke o' Harewood was Markiss o' Arondelle time when he married me?"
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