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Violet, thou art too proud: thou hast got my infirmity by inheritance. Yes, I was proud once: but, dead in men's belief, and separated from the social world, I am now, as it were, a dead man in my own feelings. I look on the things of this earth as though I belonged not to it. I am meek and chastened now, and will not encourage thee in the cherishing of imprudent unreasonable pride. But we will talk of this elsewhere: I hear voices from the wood. I fear they will return when they find I do not join them.

Whom do you mean?

Didst thou meet nobody on the way?

Nobody but our good minister and his man, going, as I suppose, to the Tower of Dungarren, to pray by the sick child.

I hope he did not see you.

I hope he did not: for I tried to conceal