"No, Sir! no! My child shall never go to beg a shelter in that hard
man's house. I know too well the cold looks, the cruel words, that would
sting her high spirit and try her heart, as they did her mother's. No,
Sir,--rather than that, she shall go with Lady Gower."

"Lady Gower? What has she to do with Effie, Jean?" I asked, with
increasing interest.

"She will take Effie as her maid, Sir. A hard life for my child! but
what can I do?" And Jean's keen glance seemed trying to read mine.

"A waiting-maid? Heaven forbid!" I ejaculated, as a vision of that
haughty lady and her three wild sons swept through my mind.

I rose, paced the room in silence for a little time, then took a sudden
resolution, and, turning to the bed, exclaimed,--

"Jean, I will adopt Effie. I am old enough to be her father; and she
shall never feel the want of one, if you will give her to my care."

To my surprise, Jean's eager face wore a look of disappointment as she
listened, and with a sigh replied,--

"That's a kind thought, Sir, and a generous one; but it cannot be as you
wish. You may be twice her age, but still too young for that. How could
Effie look into that face of yours, so bonnie, Sir, for all it is so
grave, and, seeing never a wrinkle on the forehead, nor a white hair
among the black, how could she call you father? No, it will not do,
though so kindly meant. Your friends would laugh at you, Sir, and idle
tongues might speak ill of my bairn."