had sighed with secret impatience and envy, perhaps bitterness, while listening to much that we have recorded; for she too, as well as the heiress, had come of an old Celtic line that had furnished its patriotic victims for the field and scaffold; and among her private lares she treasured an old locket of red gold, containing a lock of "the Prince's" golden hair, given by his own hand, on the retreat from Derby, to her great-grandsire, the great M'Caw of the '45, who died like a hero in the human shambles at Carlisle.

She had resided some ten years of an aimless and hopeless life at Willowdean, and had not been without secret thoughts on one or two occasions of entangling Cyril in a matrimonial affair; but he had seen too much of the world even as a boy, and was daily seeing too many fresh young faces to be caught so easily-so all such hopes were past and vanished now.

She was a calm, quiet person, who, under a tolerably ladylike exterior, concealed much of that discontented pride, fawning, and subservience, which are too often the leading characteristics of the modern Celt.

"I do beg that you will not consider Ralph Chesters as in any way a friend of mine," said Cyril, resuming a thread of the past conversation, after his brother and Horace had betaken them to the billiard-room; "for I fully agree

with you that he is not the style of man to meet ladies."

Especially one who is such a monetary prize as your cousin," said Sir John, pointedly.

"But he talks of going to the army of the East."

"In what capacity?"

"An officer of the Bashi Bozooks, or some such distinguished force," said Cyril, with a hearty fit of laughter.

"And a good riddance his absence will prove to the Merse," added Sir John, as he rose to join Lady Wedderburn, leaving Cyril to smoke on the terrace, where he walked to and fro in the clear, cold starlight, with his eyes fixed on a dark spot that was barely distinguishable on the hill side, two or three miles off. It was a dense grove of trees, which seemed to have a peculiar attraction for him, and its outline became more distinct when the moon arose.

"Have you been talking to Cyril ?" asked the lady, as her husband entered her boudoir, and, not without some doubt and hesitation, deposited his burly person in his rough tweed suit on one of her blue and silver fauteuils.

"Yes," said he, rubbing his forehead with an air of perplexity.

"Seriously, I hope ?"

"About Chesters-oh, yes."

"Tush! I mean about Gwendoleyne."

"No; but it seems to me that you are already -even on the first day our melancholy news has come-disposed to press your views or wishes too plainly upon Cyril."

"How so?" asked Lady Wedderburn, curtly. "In the choice of a wife, most men like to please themselves, not other persons."

"But surely, Wedderburn, you would wish to see this alliance brought about?" said she, earnestly.

"Undoubtedly; but Cyril is just the style of young fellow to run rusty-to kick over the traces-if worried about the matter. I know that I should have done so."

"He can have no previous attachment, for never a letter comes here, save from some of his regimental friends, and Horace and Robert see them all."

"But, my dear Katharine," urged Sir John, gently, as he stirred his cup of coffee," we must consider also the girl's inclinations, her tastes, her sympathies."

"What right has she to have any at her years? I am sure I had none !"

66

Complimentary, Kate, for you were just about her age when you married me."

"Ah, but that was a very different thing. I did not possess three hundred thousand pounds."

"You possessed much that had far more value

VOL. I.

3

in the eyes of John Wedderburn," said the old gentleman, as he stooped, kissed her upturned forehead gallantly, and to end this matter, went forth to have a look at his horses, and think over the proposed additions to the already magnificent stable-court.

E

CHAPTER IV.

LONEWOODLEE.

WITHIN a few miles of this splendid and luxurious modern mansion a very different scene was passing in another dwelling.

In a bleaker part of the Merse, more immediately adjoining the Lammermuir range of hills, was situated the house of Lonewoodlee, a fine example of what a Scottish fortalice required to be in the troublesome times of the sixteenth century. "It grotesquely associated with its rude strength the fantastic ornaments of a more powerful and civilized people-a type of what the French alliance must often have produced among the gentlemen of the age-the rugged nature of the Scot, with the style and manners of the mercurial Frank."

It was a small square tower, with round corbelled turrets at the angles; but as it has changed hands since then, and been strangely modernized within the last three years, the reader may look for it in vain as we shall describe it.