'Would you object to telling me what you know of this history?' said
Lady Kirkaldy. 'I am afraid it is very painful to you, but I think
we should understand it clearly. Please speak to me as a friend, as
woman to woman.'

'Your ladyship is very kind,' said the poor old lady. 'I have only
mentioned the subject once since we came to settle here, seventeen
years ago, but such things one cannot forget. If you will excuse me,
I have some dates that will assist my accuracy.'

She hurried away, and came back in a few moments, having evidently
dried some tears, perhaps of thankfulness, but she paused as if
reluctant to begin.

'I think your niece had no nearer relation than yourself,' said Lady
Kirkaldy, anxious to set her off and at ease.

'Oh no, or she never would have been so treated. She was an orphan.
My poor brother was a curate. He married--as young men will--on
insufficient means, his strength gave way, and he died of diphtheria
when this poor child was only two years old. Indeed, two little ones
died at the same time, and the mother married again and went to
Shanghai. She did not long live there, poor thing, and little Alice
was sent home to me. I thought I did my best for her by keeping her
at a good school. I have often wished that I had given up my
situation, and become an assistant there, so as to have her more
under my own eyes; but I fancied it important to receive a salary out
of which I could save. I am wearying your ladyship, but I can't but
dwell on the excuses for my poor child.'