another woman suffer from ill-usage without attempting to aid her.
"I certainly never liked her," Mrs. Mackinnon said afterwards; "but
I was bound to go and hear her tale, when she really had a tale to
tell."

And Mrs. Talboys now had a tale to tell,--if she chose to tell it.
The ladies of our party declared afterwards that she would have
acted more wisely had she kept to herself both O'Brien's words to
her and her answer. "She was well able to take care of herself,"
Mrs. Mackinnon said; "and, after all, the silly man had taken an
answer when he got it." Not, however, that O'Brien had taken his
answer quite immediately, as far as I could understand from what we
heard of the matter afterwards.

At the present moment Mrs. Talboys came up the rising ground all
alone, and at a quick pace. "The man has insulted me," she said
aloud, as well as her panting breath would allow her, and as soon as
she was near enough to Mrs. Mackinnon to speak to her.

"I am sorry for that," said Mrs. Mackinnon. "I suppose he has taken
a little too much wine."

"No; it was a premeditated insult. The base-hearted churl has
failed to understand the meaning of true, honest sympathy."

"He will forget all about it when he is sober," said Mackinnon,
meaning to comfort her.

"What care I what he remembers or what he forgets!" she said,
turning upon poor Mackinnon indignantly. "You men grovel so in your