LORNA BEGINS HER STORY 'I cannot go through all my thoughts so as to make them clear to you, nor have I ever dwelt on things, to shape a story of them.

I know not where the beginning was, nor where the middle ought to be, nor even how at the present time I feel, or think, or ought to think.

If I look for help to those around me, who should tell me right and wrong (being older and much wiser), I meet sometimes with laughter, and at other times with anger.
'There are but two in the world who ever listen and try to help me; one of them is my grandfather, and the other is a man of wisdom, whom we call the Counsellor.

My grandfather, Sir Ensor Doone, is very old and harsh of manner (except indeed to me); he seems to know what is right and wrong, but not to want to think of it.

The Counsellor, on the other hand, though full of life and subtleties, treats my questions as of play, and not gravely worth his while to answer, unless he can make wit of them.
'And among the women there are none with whom I can hold converse, since my Aunt Sabina died, who took such pains to teach me.