It was easy to see that she would be one of those women who remain such-- mothers, and nothing but mothers, to the end of their days.
"She's ower young for me to say it o' her," observed Mrs.Campbell, in one of the long consultations that she and the earl held together concerning Helen, who was of necessity given over almost exclusively to the good woman's charge; "but ye'll see, my lord, she will look nae mair at any mortal man.

She'll just spend her days in tending that wean o' hers--and a sweet bit thing it is, ye ken--by-and-by she'll get blithe and bonnie again.

She'll be aye gentle and kind, and no dreary, but she'll never marry.

Puir Miss Helen! She'll be ane o' thae widows that the apostle tells o'-- that are 'widows indeed'." And Mrs.Campbell, who herself was one of the number, heaved a sigh-- perhaps for Helen, perhaps for herself, and for one whose very name was now forgotten; who had gone down to the bottom of Loch Beg when the Earl's father was drowned, and never afterward been seen, living or dead, by any mortal eye.
The earl gave no answer to his good nurse's gossip.

He contented himself with making all arrangements for poor Helen's comfort, and taking care that she should be supplied with every luxury befitting not alone Captain Bruce's wife and Mr.Cardross's daughter, but the "cousin" of the Earl of Cairnforth.