younger one had lingered and came towards me as I approached.
"I hope there was nothing wrong?" she asked in a most natural way.
"No," I said it without thinking, for there was something about the girl which made me feel as if we were old friends, and I spoke to her unconsciously in this strain. "It's all right. She's not there!"
"Who?" she asked with unconsciousness of any arrière pensée, an unconsciousness similar to my own.
"Gormala!" I answered.
"And who is Gormala?" For quite a minute or two I walked on without speaking, for I wanted to think before I answered. I felt that it would be hard to explain the odd way in which the Seer-woman seemed to have become tangled up in my life; and yet I wanted to tell this girl. I feared that she might laugh at me; that she might think me ridiculous; that she might despise me; or even that she might think me a lunatic! Then again Gormala might come and tell things to her. There was no accounting for what the woman might do. She might come upon us at any moment; she might be here even now! The effect of her following or watching me had begun to tell on my mind; her existence haunted me. I looked around anxiously, and breathed freely. There was no sign of her. My eyes finally fetched up on the face of the girl. . . . Her beautiful, dark eyes were fixed on me with interest and wonder.
"Well!" she said, after a pause, "I don't suppose I'm more inquisitive than my neighbours, but I should just like to know, right here, what's wrong with you. You looked round that time just as if you were haunted! Why did you run away that time and search round as if some one had taken a pot-shot at you and you wanted to locate him? Why did you groan before you went,
