 of her betraying the secret, hung heavy on her heart. It is
probable, however, that had they remained longer together, she might have taken
the resolution to submit the whole matter to Butler, and be guided by him as to
the line of conduct which she should adopt. And when, by the sudden interruption
of their conference, she lost the opportunity of doing so, she felt as if she
had been unjust to a friend, whose advice might have been highly useful, and
whose attachment deserved her full and unreserved confidence.
    To have recourse to her father upon this occasion, she considered as highly
imprudent. There was no possibility of conjecturing in what light the matter
might strike old David, whose manner of acting and thinking in extraordinary
circumstances depended upon feelings and principles peculiar to himself, the
operation of which could not be calculated upon even by those best acquainted
with him. To have requested some female friend to have accompanied her to the
place of rendezvous, would perhaps have been the most eligible expedient; but
the threats of the writer, that betraying his secret would prevent their meeting
(on which her sister's safety was said to depend) from taking place at all,
would have deterred her from making such a confidence, even had she known a
person in whom she thought it could with safety have been reposed. But she knew
none such. Their acquaintance with the cottagers in the vicinity had been very
slight, and limited to trifling acts of good neighbourhood. Jeanie knew little
of them, and what she knew did not greatly incline her to trust any of them.
They were of the order of loquacious good-humoured gossips usually found in
their situation of life; and their conversation had at all times few charms for
a young woman, to whom nature and the circumstance of a solitary life had given
a depth of thought and force of character superior to the frivolous part of her
sex, whether in high or low degree.
    Left alone and separated from all earthly counsel, she had recourse to a
friend and adviser, whose ear is open to the cry of the poorest and most
afflicted of his people. She knelt, and prayed with fervent sincerity, that God
would please to direct her what course to follow in her arduous and distressing
situation. It was the belief of the time and sect to which she belonged, that
special answers to prayer, differing little in their character from divine
inspiration, were, as they expressed it, »borne in upon their minds« in answer
to their earnest petitions in a crisis of difficulty. Without entering into an
abstruse point of
