surely," I added, "it must be bad for her to have no exercise."

Oh—there were evenings, of course, when they took her out—just for a little walk along the cliffs. Even then they had to protect her eyes. The doctor in London had said she could not stand the light.

"What, light at night?" said I.

Miss Teresa touched Miss Mary's arm.

"Have you got the letters?" she asked. There was no hurry about it. It was said quite gently; but it served its purpose. My question was never answered. The next moment they were continuing their way to the post-office. Bellwattle and I were left alone to the pursuit of our destination.

"Do you want to see where they live now you've met them?" she asked.

"We might as well go that way," I replied. "It leads to the walk round the cliffs, doesn't it?"

She nodded and we walked on.

I knew the house, long before she stopped and pointed it out to me. It was just the prison, just the cage I had imagined it to be. In a little plot of land on the cliff's edge it stood, looking out across the wide and lonely bay of Ballysheen. The sun was shining then, but I knew what it must be like on a lightless day. There was no garden, and the shrubs that partly surrounded the house were bent with the south-west wind. They looked like old witches stooping in the grass to gather simples. No creeper grew upon the walls. It was all a cold grey stone, and the windows stared and stared as though they ached with endless looking out to sea. Even with that sun burning in the sky, the water was not blue. I thought of the colors which must still be living, burning in the eyes of that little prisoner behind those walls, and with an effort I kept my exclamation to myself.

"Shall we go on?" said Bellwattle.

I acquiesced, but just as we were about to turn away, I saw the curtains in an upper window move. For one instant they were pulled aside and a face that surprised me with its paleness peeped out.

I stopped, waiting to see more, hoping that I should really behold Clarissa for the first time and then, as the curtains fell together again, I turned to look at Bellwattle and found her watching me.

CHAPTER VIII

At the bottom of the garden I sat out under the hedge of nut 

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