The Real Charlotte. 221 



up and gazing at a black figure in the avenue ; " it's some 

 woman or other, but she looks very queer." 



" I can't see that it matters much who it is," said Christo- 

 pher irritably, " so long as she doesn't come up here, and 

 she probably will if you let her see you." 



" Mercy on us ! she looks awful ! " exclaimed Francie 

 incautiously ; " why, it's Miss Duffy, and her face as red as 

 I don't know what — oh, she's seen us ! " 



The voice had evidently reached Julia Duffy's ears ; she 

 came stumbling on, with her eyes fixed on the light blue 

 dress under the beech tree, and when Christopher had 

 turned, and got his eye-glass up, she was standing at the 

 foot of the slope, looking at him with a blurred recognition. 



^' Mr. Dysart," she said in a hoarse voice, that, com- 

 bined with her flushed face and staring eyes, made Christo- 

 pher think she was drunk, " Sir Benjamin has driven me 

 out of his place like a beggar ; me, whose family is as long 

 on his estate as himself; and his agent wants to drive me 

 out of my farm that was promised to me by your father I 

 should never be disturbed in it." 



" You're Miss Duffy from Gurthnamuckla, are you not ? " 

 interrupted Christopher, eyeing her with natural disfavour, 

 as he got up and came down the slope towards her. 



" I am, Mr. Dysart, I am," she said defiantly, " and you 

 and your family have a right to know me, and I ask you to 

 do me justice, that I shall not be turned out into the ditch 

 for the sake of a lying double-faced schemer — " Her voice 

 failed, as it had failed before when she spoke to Sir 

 Benjamin, and the action of her hand that carried on her 

 meaning had a rage in it that hid its despair, 



" I think if you have anything to say you had better 

 write it," said Christopher, beginning to think that Lambert 

 had some excuse for his opinion of Miss Duffy, but begin- 

 ning also to pity what he thought was a spectacle of miser- 

 able middle-aged drunkenness ; " you may be sure that no 

 injustice will be done to you — " 



" Is it injustice ? " broke in Julia, while the fever cloud 

 seemed to roll its weight back for a moment from her brain ; 

 " maybe you'd say there was injustice if you knew all I 

 know. Where's Charlotte Mullen, till I tell her to her face 

 that I know her plots and her thricks ? 'Tis to say that to 



