“I knew you would shudder and turn from me in loathing,” she continued, in a louder, clearer tone, as she felt the thrill of surprise which ran through the assembly, and grew more and more excited, “But it is the truth, I tell you.  I put out those beautiful eyes of which I was so envious because the people praised them so much.  I could not bear it, and the demon of jealousy had full possession of me, young as I was, and sometimes, when I saw him preferred to me, I wished him dead, dead, just as he is now.  Oh, Robbie, my heart is breaking with agony and shame, but I must go on.  I must tell how I hated you and the pretty baby ways which made you so attractive, and when I climbed up in the chair after the lumps of sugar and saw the cup of Cayenne pepper, and you standing below me with wide-open eyes and outstretched hands, asking me to give, the devil look possession of me and whispered that now was my chance to ruin those eyes looking up so eagerly at me.  I had heard that red pepper would make one blind, and—­and—­oh, horror, how can I tell the rest?”

Lucy’s voice was like a wailing cry of agony, as, covering her white face with her hands, she went on: 

“I held the cup toward Robbie, and said:  ‘Is it this you want?’ and when in his ignorance he answered:  ‘Yes, div me some,’ I dropped it into his hands, saying to myself, ‘it is not my fault if he gets it in his eyes.’

“You know the rest, how from that moment he never looked on me or any one again; but you do not, cannot know the anguish and remorse which filled my soul, when I realized what I had done.  From that day to the hour of Robbie’s death there has never been a moment when I would not have given my sight—­yes, my life for his.  And that is why I have been the devoted sister, as you have called me.  I was trying to atone, and I did a little.  Robbie told me so, for I confessed it all to him before he died; I told him just how vile I was, and he forgave me, and loved me just the same and went to sleep with my name on his lips.  I can see it there now, the formation of the word Lucy, and it will be the first he utters when he welcomes me to heaven, if I am permitted to enter there.

“I have made this confession because I thought I ought, that you might not think me better than I am, I know you will despise me, but it does not matter; Robbie forgave and loved me to the last, and that alone will keep me from going mad.”

She ceased speaking, and with a low, gasping sob fell forward into the arms of her father, who had stepped to her side in time to receive her.

It was a blustering March day when they buried Robert Grey in the cemetery at Allington, while his sister, who had been taken directly from the church to her home, lay unconscious in her room, only moaning occasionally, and whispering of Robbie, whose eyes she had put out.