She must have stopped to put on her shoes; for now Grace could hear her steps distinctly, down the earth bank, and over the rattling shingle of the beach.

Where was she going?
Grace must follow! The door was fast: but in a moment she had removed the table, opened the shutter and the window.
"Thank God that I stayed here on the ground floor, instead of going back to my own room when Major Campbell left.

It is a providence! The Lord has not forsaken me yet!" said the sweet saint, as, catching up her shawl, she wrapped it round her, and slipping through the window, crouched under the shadow of the house, and looked for her mother.
She was hurrying over the rocks, a hundred yards off.

Whither?
To drown herself in the sea?
No; she held on along the mid-beach, right across the cove, toward Arthur's Nose.

But why?
Grace must know.
She felt, she knew not why, that this strange journey, that wild "The Lord will provide," had to do with the subject of her suspicion.