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diff --git a/old/66580-0.txt b/old/66580-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 992172f..0000000 --- a/old/66580-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6280 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Colville of the Guards, Volume I (of 3), by -James Grant - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Colville of the Guards, Volume I (of 3) - -Author: James Grant - -Release Date: October 20, 2021 [eBook #66580] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Al Haines - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLVILLE OF THE GUARDS, VOLUME I -(OF 3) *** - - - - - - - COLVILLE OF THE GUARDS - - - BY - - JAMES GRANT - - AUTHOR OF - "THE ROMANCE OF WAR," "THE CAMERONIANS," - "THE SCOTTISH CAVALIER," - ETC., ETC. - - - - IN THREE VOLUMES. - - VOL. I. - - - - LONDON: - HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, - 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. - 1885. - - _All rights reserved._ - - - - - CONTENTS - - I. Birkwoodbrae - II. Mary's Adventure - III. The Introduction - IV. Robert Wodrow - V. The Dunkeld Family - VI. The Visit - VII. Dreams and Doubts - VIII. A Truce - IX. Colville's Warning - X. A Garden-Party at Craigmhor - XI. In the Conservatory - XII. After Thoughts - XIII. The Last Appeal - XIV. Gretchen and Faust - XV. How Faust Succeeded - XVI. Evil Tidings - XVII. Mary's Preparations - XVIII. On the Brink - XIX. The Departure - XX. The Heir of Entail - - - - -COLVILLE OF THE GUARDS. - - - -CHAPTER I. - -KIRKWOODBRAE. - -'You are a dear and good-hearted jewel, Mary!' said Ellinor. 'How -you can constantly face and soothe the sorrows and miseries of all -these poor people, I cannot conceive; I am not selfish, I hope, and -yet the frequent task would he too much for me.' - -'You are not without a tender heart,' replied Mary, as she set down -her little hand-basket, now empty. 'I have paid but one visit -to-day--a very sorrowful one--and I am glad to be back again in our -own pretty home. When I saw old Elspat the funeral was over, and -dear Dr. Wodrow had brought her back to the little lonely cottage -from which her husband had been borne away. It was so sad and -strange to see the empty bed, with a plate of salt upon the pillow, -and the outline of his coffin still on the coverlet, and the now -useless drugs and phials on a little table, close by--sad -reminiscences that only served to torture poor Elspat, whose grey -head the minister patted kindly, while telling her, in the usual -stereotyped way, that whom He loved He chastened--that man is cut -down like a reed--all flesh is grass, and so forth. But old Elspat -shall not live alone now--she is to come here, and be a kind of -factotum for us.' - -'That is like your kind, considerate heart, Mary; always thinking of -others and never of yourself.' - -'When I think of the brightness of our own home, Ellinor--though -death has twice darkened it--and compare it with that of old Elspat, -my heart throbs with alternate gratitude and sorrow.' - -'Poor Elspat Gordon.' - -The speakers were sisters, two bright and handsome girls, one of whom -had just returned from an errand of charity and benevolence, while -the younger was seated in a garden before her easel and paint-block, -on which she was depicting, for perhaps the twentieth time, the -features of their home, Birkwoodbrae--works of art in which their -favourite fox-terrier Jack always bore a prominent part; and Jack, -his collar duly garlanded with fresh rosebuds and daisies, was now -crouched at the feet of the fair artist. - -Mary Wellwood was fair-haired, with darkly-lashed eyes of -violet-blue. Many would call her very handsome, but few merely -pretty. She was far beyond the latter phrase. With all its soft -beauty and dimples, there were too much decision and character in her -face to justify the simple term prettiness, while it was a face to -haunt one a life long! - -Two years younger than Mary, Ellinor was now twenty. Her dark hazel -eyes were winning in expression, and, like Mary's, longly-lashed, and -what lovely lips she had for kisses! Hers was no button of a mouth, -however. Critics might say that it was a trifle too large; but her -lips were beautifully curved, red, and alluring, often smiling, and -showing the pure, pearl-like teeth within; and yet, when not smiling, -the normal expression of Ellinor's face was thoughtful. - -The orphan daughters of Colonel Wellwood--a Crimean veteran--the two -girls lived alone in their pretty sequestered home at Birkwoodbrae. -They had not a female relation in the world whom they could have -invited to share it; and though sometimes propriety suggested a -matron or chaperone as a necessity to two handsome and ladylike -girls, living almost under the shadow of the manse, and as the -minister, Dr. Wodrow, had been left by their father on his death-bed -a species of guardian to them, 'why hamper themselves with some -uncomfortable old frump, when they could be perfectly happy without -her, with their father's old servants about them?' was always the -after reflection of each. - -Thus for three years the time had glided away, and Mary's life we -shall show to have been a busy, active, and useful one, adding to and -nearly doubling indeed the little income left them by their father, -through her own efforts in the production and sale of the -agricultural produce of the few acres of Birkwoodbrae, with a skill -and independence of spirit that won the admiration and respect of all -who knew her. - -Yet the house they loved so well, and the patch of land around it, -did not belong to the orphan sisters. - -The heir of the entail--for, according to 'Shaw's Index,' small -though the property of Birkwoodbrae might be, it had been entailed as -far back as 1696, with date of tailzie 1694, by Ronald Wellwood, a -remote ancestor, who was one of the many victims of King William's -treachery at Darien--the heir of entail, we say, held a lucrative -diplomatic appointment abroad, and left his two nieces in undisturbed -enjoyment of the house and lands. - -Thus the latter, in Mary's care, had become quite a little farm, the -produce of which, in grazing--even in grain--butter, eggs, and -poultry, doubled, as we have said, the pittance left to her and her -sister by their father, the improvident old colonel. - -In the words of Herbert's _Jacula Prudentum_, Mary Wellwood's motto -had ever been, 'Help thyself and God will help thee.' - -The house of Birkwoodbrae was a little two-storied villa, with pretty -oriel windows, about which the monthly roses, clematis, and Virginia -creeper clambered: and it had been engrafted by the colonel on an old -farmhouse, the abode of his ancestors, which had two crow-stepped -gables and a huge square ingle-lum--the later being now the ample -kitchen fireplace of the new residence, and in the remote quarter of -the little household. - -A lintel over the door that now led to the barnyard told the date of -this portion of the mansion, as it bore the legend often repeated by -Mary:-- - - 'BLISSIT BE GOD FOR AL HIS GIFTIS. R. W. 1642,' - -and showed that it had outlived the wars of the Covenant and the -strife that ended at Killiecrankie; and by its wall there grew a -hoary pear-tree, called a longovil--the name of a kind of pear -introduced into Scotland by Queen Mary of Guise, the Duchess of -Longueville. - -This part of the house was, or used to be haunted by a goblin known -as 'the Darien Ghost,' a spectre that used to appear during the -blustering winds of March, on the anniversary of the storming and -sack of Fort St. Andrew by the Spaniards, when a thousand Scotsmen -perished, among them, Ronald, the Laird or Gudeman of Birkwoodbrae. -This ghost was a heavily-booted one, with spurs that were heard to -jingle as it went; and it was wont to appear by the bedside of some -sleeping visitor, over whom it would bend with pallid face and -gleaming eyes; and those who had found courage enough to strike at -the figure with hand or sword, found, to their dismay, that -notwithstanding his heavy-heeled boots, by some idiosyncrasy, -peculiar perhaps to ghosts, the stroke passed unimpeded _through it_; -but Mary averred that since the railway had come through Strathearn, -less and less had been seen of the Darien spectre, and now it came no -more. - -Around the house were groups of lovely silver birches, the 'siller -birks' that gave the place its name; in front the ground sloped -gently downward, till the little garden, with its well-kept plots and -parterres of flowers, ended in a park of emerald green grass, where -the spotlessly white sheep and brindled cattle grazed amid the -sweetest sylvan scenery, the vivid colours of which were now brought -forth by the fleecy whiteness of the clouds, the deep blue of the -sky, and the brilliance of the sunshine; and, as William Black has -it, 'I have heard Mr. Millais declare that three hours' sunshine in -Scotland is worth three months of it at Cairo.' - -When Mary came forth into the garden again, she wore an old straw hat -to save her complexion from the glares and had the smartest and most -becoming of lawn-tennis aprons pinned over her dress, with Swedish -gloves upon her hands, as she proceeded to snip and train some -straggling sprays of roses about the walls of the house, and seemed -to do so with loving and gentle care, as if the said house was a -thing of life, and sensible of the love she bore it; while uttering -many a yelp and gurgle, Jack, the fox-terrier, overwhelmed her with -the wildest of canine caresses. - -Now Jack was deemed a wonderful 'doggie' in his way, and had been the -gift of Elspat's husband, an old Gordon Highlander, who had followed -Roberts to victory, and had Jack by his side in more than one battle -in Afghanistan. Jack was all muscle, and white as snow, save two -tan-coloured spots, one over the right eye and the other in the -centre of his back. He was the perilous enemy of all dogs, and cats -too, and at the sight of one or other his muscles grew tense, his -hair bristled up, and he showed his molar tusks; but otherwise he was -absurdly meek and gentle, and in appearance belied his combative -nature. - -'Is it not strange, Ellinor,' said Mary, resuming the subject of -their conversation, 'that Elspat's husband, who never recovered from -the wound received three years ago in a battle in India, had a -presentiment that he would die of it, and on the anniversary of the -very day, hour, and moment he was hit, he expired? Yes, Jack, and -you, my dear little doggie, were there too,' she added, nestling -Jack's head in her pretty neck. 'In spite of all that Dr. Wodrow -said and inveighed against superstition, the piper would lead the -funeral party thrice _deisal-wise_ round the burial-ground before -entering it.' - -'And no doubt the doctor would quote his ancestor's famous -_Analecta_?' said Ellinor. - -'On that occasion he did not,' replied Mary; 'but it's too bad of -you, Ellinor, to quiz the dear old man, who does his duty so well. I -always recall what papa used to say, that no one who does not try -with all the strength one possesses to do some good to those about -them, can possibly say they do their best to live usefully and -honestly. Oh, Ellinor, what a delicate arum lily you have there!' -Mary suddenly exclaimed. - -'I am putting it in my foreground. It came with some lovely peaches.' - -'From Robert Wodrow?' - -'Yes,' replied Ellinor, with a soft and pleased smile, for thereby -hung a tale, as young Robert Wodrow (of whom more anon), the -minister's only son, from his boyhood had sighed for Ellinor, and was -never perfectly happy but when with her, and, like the lover of -Rosamund Gray, 'he could make her admire the scenes he admired, fancy -the wild flowers he fancied, watch the clouds he was watching, and -not unfrequently repeat to her the poetry which he loved, and make -her love it too.' - -And so, in early youth, the boy and girl had grown fond of each -other--far fonder than either of them at first suspected. - -'By the way,' said Mary, suddenly, and pausing in the act of snipping -off a decayed rose with her garden scissors, 'the Dunkeld family are -back at Craigmhor.' - -'With visitors, of course?' - -'As usual--gentlemen to shoot when the season opens in a week or two; -and one, a Captain Colville--a very handsome man--is, I hear, the -intended of that haughty girl, Blanche Galloway.' - -'Well, I am not ill-natured,' said Ellinor, with her pretty head on -one side, as she reproduced Robert Wodrow's lily in flake-white; 'but -the man who marries Blanche won't have his sorrows to seek. However, -we shall not call, unless they do so first, of course; so these -people are nothing to us.' - -'Nay,' said Mary; 'with visitors at Craigmhor, the housekeeper must -necessarily require more eggs, fowls, flowers, and I know not what.' - -'Sending these things to market at Perth or Forteviot is all very -well, but I do dislike orders from the great folks at the manor -house.' - -'So do I, but needs must, you know, Ellinor.' - -'What would papa have thought?' - -'Had he thought more at times we had not been reduced to such -shifts--not that I upbraid him, poor old man.' - -'I detest catering for these great folks, who ignore our existence, -save by a bow--more often a stare--at church,' persisted Ellinor. - -'I care not--together we are independent, and happy here as the day -is long: are not you so, Ellinor?' - -'Yes; but how if one of us were to get married? Such things happen.' - -'Don't speculate on that, though I think Robert Wodrow does,' said -Mary, with something between a laugh and a sigh, as she took her way -to the hen-court to see after her fowls. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -MARY'S ADVENTURE. - -On the following day, after seeing old Elspat duly installed in one -of the cosiest rooms of the old portion of the mansion as a kind of -housekeeper, Mary Wellwood put on her garden-hat, brought forth her -fishing-tackle, tied a pretty basket round her waist, and, taking her -rod, a dainty little one--the gift of Ellinor's admirer, Robert -Wodrow--set forth, accompanied by Jack, to get a trout or two from -the May, for Mary was an expert angler, giving, ere she departed, a -last look at her favourite hen, with a callow brood of -primrose-coloured chickens, over which she clucked noisily in the -sunshine amid a wisp of straw, while eyeing Jack the terrier with -keen alarm and antagonism. - -Mary left Ellinor again at her easel, and smiled when she saw that -the latter had given some finishing touches to her costume, and had -stuck a sprig in her lace collarette, in expectation of a visit from -Robert Wodrow and his mother. She knew well of the loving friendship -and incipient regard that had long existed between Rob and Ellinor; -and that as friends of years' standing each had begun--she hoped--to -feel that in all the world the other was the dearest, and a union for -life would of course follow. - -But young Wodrow, who was now past his twentieth year, had 'his way -to make' in the world, and, till he had graduated in medicine, -matrimony was not to be seriously thought of. - -She had one or two errands of mercy to fulfil ere she reached the -river side, and began to put her rod together, and deftly did so with -purpose-like little hands, that were cased in her garden-gloves, -while Jack kept close by her side. In the woods there were no cats -to worry, but he had sharp eyes for the rabbits that scudded -about--sharp as any poacher or gamekeeper could have. - -The day was a bright and lovely one in summer. The pale primrose had -come and gone, and the bluebells were already fading out of the -woods; the sorrel was becoming redder, and the wild strawberry, with -its little white flowerets, was peeping out in unlikely places. The -grass in the meadows was green and studded with golden buttercups, -and the voice of the cushat dove could be heard at times among the -silver birches--the 'siller birks' that cast their quivering and -aspen-like shadows on the waters of the bonnie May, which is a fine -stream for trout, ten miles in length, from its rise among the Ochils -to its confluence with the lovely Earn. - -Everywhere here the scenery is rich and beautiful, and the banks of -the May are very varied. In one part a long and deep channel has -been worn by its waters through the living rocks which almost close -above it, and far down below they gurgle in obscurity with a deep and -mysterious sound. At another place they pour in silver spray over a -linn, thirty feet in height, and form a beautiful cascade, and -everywhere the glen scenery is picturesque and richly wooded with the -graceful silver birch, which is so characteristic of the Scottish -Highlands, where it climbs boldly the brows of the steepest hills and -rocks, though the oak prevails in the valleys of the Grampians. - -There had been recently a 'spate,' or summer flood in the river, so -the trout took to the fly greedily, and intent on her task Mary had -nearly filled the little basket that hung at her waist with fish--two -or three of which weighed heavily--and cost her little fingers no -small trouble to disengage the hook from their gills, ere she became -aware that she had a companion in her sport, of which she was very -fond. But though Mary loved to dangle a little rod over a brook that -teemed with finny denizens, it was, of course, quite beyond her -strength or skill to hold a big rod over a river for the chance of -hooking a 'pounder.' - -Mary Wellwood had reached a part of the stream where it was more -difficult to fish, as its banks were thickly wooded, when she saw -near her, similarly occupied, a gentleman, who, though he did not -seem to watch her, certainly did so, for to his eyes angling seemed -an odd amusement for a young girl--a lady especially--though it is -not more so than archery, and certainly not so much as bringing down -a grouse upon the wing, a feat attempted by some damsels now-a-days. - -Clad in a rough tweed suit, with fishing-boots that came above his -knees, a straw hat, the band of which was garnished with flies and -lines, he was a man above the middle height, apparently nearer thirty -than twenty, handsome in figure and in face. The latter was of a -rich, dark complexion, with regular features; a heavy, dark brown -moustache, and unmistakably keen hazel eyes. He was a man with a -fine air and of decided presence. - -He had been observing Mary Wellwood for some time before she was -aware of his presence or vicinity, and the consequence was that for -each trout he caught the girl caught three; for while she was solely -intent on making the fly, with which her hook was baited, alight on -the eddying water in the most delicate manner directly above where -she supposed the fish to be, he was, as he would have phrased it, -'taking stock' of her lissom and graceful figure, which her tight -costume showed to the utmost advantage as she stooped over the -stream; the perfect form of her 'thoroughbred' ears and hands, and -the exceeding fairness of her skin, which was of that snowy kind -which usually accompanies light brown hair, and Mary's was of a -brilliant light brown, shot with gold, when the ruddy flakes of -sunshine struck it through the trees aslant. - -Desirous of getting away alike from his observation and vicinity, -Mary lifted her line in haste, but, alas! it was caught by the root -of a silver birch, which held it fast a little beneath the water, and -from which, after drawing off her gloves, she sought in vain to -disentangle it. Here was a dilemma. - -'Permit me?' said the stranger, planting his rod in the turf, and -lifting his hat as he came towards her. He at once succeeded in -releasing her hook and line, while Jack at once fraternised with him. - -'Thanks--thank you so much,' said Mary, colouring a little, as she -quickly wound the line up, and with a bow passed on to a part of the -stream some yards further down; the stranger had looked at her -shapely white hand, as if he longed to take it within his own, and, -as if by magnetism, was strongly attracted towards it. - -But Mary--who intended to catch just one more fish--had barely -resumed her operations before a most unforeseen mishap occurred to -her. After a 'spate,' the water of the May is often dark in some -places, and to reach a pool wherein she knew by past experience some -fine trout were sure to be lurking, by the assistance of a stone she -reached a flat boulder fully six feet from the bank, but her -foot--light thought it was--had barely left the former ere it turned -over in the current and vanished, leaving her isolated amid the -stream, whereat her terrier yelped and barked furiously. - -The distance was too great for her to leap; moreover, the bank was -steep there, and to fall would end in a complete immersion, and, -gathering her skirts above her little booted feet, she looked around -her with a comical air of perplexity and dismay, which her companion -of the rod was not slow to perceive, and again he instantly -approached, but this time with an absolute smile rippling all over -his face. - -'You cannot leap this distance without risk, and so must permit me to -assist you again,' said he, stepping at once into the water, which -rose midway up his long fishing-boots. He put an arm round her--a -strong arm she felt it to be--and at once lifted her to the bank. - -'I have to thank you again, sir,' said Mary, blushing in earnest now. - -'I am so glad that I was within sight--you were quite in a scrape, -perched on that fragment of rock, with the dark water eddying round -you,' said he, again lifting his hat; 'but perhaps you can repay me -by indicating the nearest path to Craigmhor?' - -Mary did so, on which, still lingering near, he remarked, - -'And so these are the Birks of Invermay, so famed in Scottish song, -and story, too, I believe? It is indeed a lovely spot!' - -'Lovely, indeed,' replied Mary, as the praise of her native glen went -straight to her heart; 'even we, who live here all the year round, -never tire of its beauty.' - -'I am here for the first time; I came to this quarter only yesterday, -and the alternately bold and sylvan nature of the scenery impressed -me greatly. You must be fond of fishing,' he added, with a well-bred -smile, 'and seem more expert with your rod than I.' - -'But I only know the May,' replied Mary, taking her rod to pieces as -a hint that she was about to withdraw, on which the stranger began to -do the same. - -'I have fished for trout in many places--even in the Lake of Geneva,' -said he, 'and, curiously enough, the fish there are precisely the -same as those in Lough Neagh in Ireland.' - -'In weather so clear and light as this--even after flood--it is no -easy task to lure them to destruction here,' replied Mary, 'and a -light enough basket is often carried home, even from the best parts -of the stream.' - -'Such has been my fortune to-day,' said he, as he quietly proceeded -by her side; but now Mary remembered that the path she had indicated -to him as leading to Craigmhor was also the one she had to pursue to -reach Birkwoodbrae. - -'Our May trout are very beautiful, and are as good in quality as in -appearance,' remarked Mary, scarcely knowing what to say. - -'I hope you do not venture to such places as this in winter,' said -he, pointing to some rocks that overhung the shaded stream. - -'Why?' asked Mary, laughing. - -'Because, when the water freezes--as I suppose it does--and these -rocks are covered with snow, there must be danger.' - -'I fear you look at them with a Londoner's eyes.' - -'I am a Londoner--in one fashion--Captain Colville of the Guards.' - -'Oh, I do not fear the snow,' said Mary; 'I have been up on the -summit of yonder hill when it was covered deep with snow,' she added, -pointing to a spur of the Ochils, while her eyes kindled, for under -the shadow of those mountains she was born; 'but I was only a child -then.' - -'And what object took you up at such a time, may I ask?' - -'To save a wee pet lamb, that else must have perished in the snow.' - -'And did you carry it down?' - -'Yes--of course.' - -'By Jove!' exclaimed the Guardsman, twirling his moustache. - -'We call that place Crow Court,' said Mary. - -'Why?' he asked. - -'Because sometimes in summer the crows collect there in such numbers -that the green hillside is blackened with them, as if they had all -been summoned for the occasion; and sometimes they have been known to -wait for a day or two while other crows were winging their way hither -from every quarter of the sky. Then a great clamour and noise ensue -among them, and the whole will fall upon one or two crows that have -been guilty of something, and after picking and rending them to death -they disperse in flights as they came.' - -The Guardsman knew not what to make of this bit of natural history, -and could only stroke his moustache again. - -Something in this girl's sweet but determined profile--something in -the freshness of her character, and her slightly grave manner, as -that of one already accustomed, but gently, to rule others, had a -strange charm for Leslie Colville--for such was his name--though he -was evidently a man accustomed to the ways of West-End belles and -Belgravian mammas. Yet this girl never flattered him even by a -smile, and her violet-blue eyes met his keen dark hazel ones as -calmly as if their sexes were reversed, while her whole manner had -the provoking indifference and the conscious air of self-possession -which can only be acquired in the best society; and yet, to his very -critical eye, her costume was rather unsuited to the atmosphere of -Regent Street and Tyburnia, being extremely plain, and destitute of -every accessory in the way of brooch, bracelet, ring, or even the -inevitable bow. - -To him it seemed quite refreshing to talk to a girl who, with all her -loveliness, evidently seemed not to know how to flirt or even think -about it. - -'I must now bid you good-morning,' said Mary, on reaching a -hedge-bordered path that led to her home. - -'What is the name of that house so charmingly embosomed among -birches?' he asked. - -'Birkwoodbrae.' - -'Birkwoodbrae--indeed!' he repeated, with a start that Mary detected, -but believed it to be simulated, and felt somewhat offended in -consequence. - -'The name seems to interest you,' said she, coldly, almost with -hauteur. - -'Do you reside there?' he asked, while regarding her so curiously -that Mary felt her natural colour deepen. - -'Yes, and have done so since my father's death,' and, bowing again, -she quickly withdrew, while he, with hat in hand, looked after her. - -'These are the last trout we shall have for a time--of my own fishing -at least, Ellinor,' said Mary, as she relieved herself of the basket -and told of the forenoon adventures. - -'Why?' - -'I have no wish to be escorted by any of the visitors at Craigmhor; -least of all by Captain Colville, the _fiancé_, as I understand he -is, of that intolerable girl, Blanche Galloway.' - -'I should think not,' replied Ellinor, laughing at her sister's -unusual air of annoyance. - -But the sisters had not heard the last of Captain Leslie Colville. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -THE INTRODUCTION. - -A day or two after the rencontre we have narrated, when the sisters -were quietly reading in their little drawing-room, the curtained -windows of which opened to the lovely glen, through which May flows, -visitors were announced--two strangers and their old friend the -parish minister. - -The latter entered, hat in hand, with the cheery confidence of one -who knew he was welcome, saying, - -'My dear girls, allow me to introduce two new friends--Captain -Colville and Sir Redmond Sleath--Miss Wellwood--Miss Ellinor -Wellwood.' - -A few well-bred bows, with the subsequent inevitable remarks about -the weather followed, and as all seated themselves, Dr. Wodrow said, - -'We have had a long ramble by the Linn, and even as far as the King's -Haugh, and have just dropped in to have a cup of afternoon tea, my -dears.' - -Mary sweetly gave a smile of welcome and assent, as her hand went to -the bell. - -The old minister, who knew that for reasons yet to be explained, -Captain Colville was anxious to see once more the fair girl whom he -had met and succoured by Mayside, had artfully arranged the proper -introduction, which had now come to pass, and the end of which -he--good, easy, and unthinking man--could little then foresee. - -Sir Redmond, as he was introduced to Mary, took his glass out of his -right eye, where it had hitherto been, and placed it in his left to -focus Ellinor when introduced to her, each time bowing very low, yet -with an expression of appreciative scrutiny in his face. - -The transference of his glass from eye to eye was perhaps a small -matter in one way, yet in another it was very indicative of the man's -cool _insouciance_ of character and bearing. - -On the unexpected arrival of these visitors, the first thoughts of -the sisters were that their household furniture was decidedly the -worse for the wear, that it was all old-fashioned, and that the -curtains, carpets, and chairs were all toned down by time; yet -everything was scrupulously clean, and in all its details -Birkwoodbrae was evidently the home of gentlewomen of taste and -refinement. Flowers, artistically sorted, were distributed whereever -they might be placed with propriety, with all the pretty trifles and -nick-nacks peculiar to the atmosphere of 'the British drawing-room,' -while the newest music lay upon the open piano, and Colville's -observant eye quickly detected the latest novels and illustrated -papers too. - -'Miss Wellwood and I are already old friends,' said Captain Colville, -with a pleasant smile, as he slid at once into conversation with -Mary, laughingly, about their meeting by the river. - -'You have not been fishing for some days past, Miss Wellwood,' he -remarked, incidentally. - -'No, I have been otherwise occupied,' replied Mary, as she thought -'he has been looking for me, or has missed me,' and she knew not -whether to be flattered or provoked by the discovery, while, with -secret pleasure, Colville was looking into her minute and handsome -face, with its starry blue eyes, and tender, mobile mouth--a face as -rare in its candour and innocence of expression as in its delicate -beauty. - -Sir Redmond Sleath--of whom more anon--was tall, fair-haired, and -undoubtedly handsome, with a tawny or blonde moustache, and regular -features. He was every way the style of man to please a woman's -fancy, yet to those who watched him closely it was evident that his -blue eyes--for they were a species of cold China blue rather than -grey--had a shifty, almost dishonest expression, and that no smile -ever pervaded them, even when his lips laughed. - -He was in morning costume, with accurately fitting, light-coloured -gloves, and a dainty 'button-hole' in the lapel of his black coat; -while Colville wore a dark velvet shooting-coat and tan gaiters, his -thick, brown hair carefully dressed, his dark moustache pointed, a -plain signet ring glittering on his strong brown hand--an onyx, which -bore, as Ellinor's sharp, artistic eye observed, the Wellwood crest, -or one uncommonly like it--a demi-lion rampant; but then the crests -of so many families are the same. - -Dr. Wodrow, the minister of Invermay (called of old the Kirktown of -Mailler), was a tall, stout, and more than fine-looking man, with -aquiline features, and a massive forehead, from which his hair, very -full in quantity, and now silvery white, seemed to start up in -Jove-like spouts, to fall behind over his ears and neck. He had -keen, dark-grey eyes, always a pleasant smile, with a calm, kind, and -dignified, if not somewhat pompous, manner, born, perhaps, of the -consciousness that, after the laird, he was a chief man in the parish. - -His one little vanity, or pet weakness, was pride in his descent from -the pious but superstitious old author of 'Analecta Scotica,' and -other almost forgotten works, but who was a great man in his time, -before and after the Treaty of Union, and in honour of whom he had -named his only son 'Robert.' - -The afternoon tea proceeded in due course, served in fine old dragon -china, brought in by old Elspat, a hard-featured little woman, in -deep black, owing to her recent bereavement, who curtseyed in an -old-fashioned way to each and all, and with whom the minister shook -hands, somewhat to the surprise of his London friends. - -'What a splendid type of dog you have here, Miss Wellwood--all muscle -and sinew--half bull, half fox terrier,' said Colville, in a pause of -the conversation, patting Jack, who was nestling close to Mary's -skirt, for the captain deemed rightly that her dog was a safe thing -to enlarge upon. - -'He is indeed a pet--the dearest of dogs,' she replied, tickling -Jack's ears, and getting a lick of his red tongue in return. - -'Are you not afraid of him?' asked Sir Redmond, a little nervously. - -'Afraid of Jack--I should think not!' replied Mary, laughing. - -But somehow Jack seemed to have an antipathy for the baronet, and -growled and showed his molar tusks very unmistakably each time that -personage focussed him with his eyeglass. - -The cabinet portrait of an old officer, in uniform with epaulettes -and one or two medals, seemed to attract the interest of Leslie -Colville. - -'That is papa,' said Mary, in an explanatory tone. - -'Ah, he was in the service, then,' said the captain, smiling. 'So am -I--in the Scots Guards.' - -'The Scots Guards! Then perhaps you know our cousin, Captain -Wellwood.' - -'Of course I know him intimately,' he replied, with some hesitation, -while colouring deeply. - -Mary thought there was something strange in his manner, as he spoke -in a low and indistinct voice, heard by herself alone, so she pursued -the, to her, rather distasteful subject no further, but the captain -added, - -'A lucky dog--he has succeeded lately to a pot of money--quite a -fortune, in fact.' - -'Lucky indeed,' assented Sir Redmond. 'By Jove, there is nothing -like money for enabling one to enjoy life. Don't you think so, -doctor?' - -'No,' replied the minister, shaking his white head, 'I agree with my -worthy ancestor, who remarks, in the third volume of his _Analecta_, -that "wealth is apt to abate the godly habits of a people." Of -course, Sir Redmond, you have read Wodrow's _Analecta_.' - -'Sorry to say, my dear sir, that I never heard of it.' - -'Indeed. It was the labour of twenty-seven years. Thus, you may see -that he was unlike Hué, the learned Bishop of Avranches, who used to -say that all human learning could be comprised in one volume folio.' - -Sir Redmond felt himself somewhat at a loss here, and ignoring the -minister, whom he deemed 'an old parish pump,' he turned again to -Ellinor Wellwood, some of whose framed landscapes drew attention to -her merits as an amateur artist, and led to the production of a -portfolio of her sketches, over which the baronet hung, as well as -over herself, in real or well-simulated admiration. - -The latter could scarcely be, as Ellinor had so many personal -attractions, her long lashes imparted such softness to her dark hazel -eyes, and the contour of her head and neck seemed so graceful and -ladylike as Sir Redmond stooped over her, and complimented her -artistic efforts. - -Meanwhile Jack, with his hair bristling up, and his bandy legs -planted firmly on the carpet, was growling, snarling, and showing -such manifestations of making his tusks acquainted with the baronet's -calves or ankles, that he had to be ignominiously taken out of the -room by Elspat. - -'Dogs have strange instincts and antipathies,' said Dr. Wodrow, -rather unluckily, and unaware of all his words implied. 'Ah,' he -added, as Ellinor displayed one of her drawings, 'that is the Holy -Hill of Forteviot, and these stones you see depicted among the turf -possess a curious legend--the story of a miller's daughter who -married a king--a story you must get Miss Wellwood to tell you one of -these days. And so you have given old Elspat a home here, Mary,' he -added, smoothing her bright hair with his hand, as he had been wont -to do when she was a child, caressingly. - -'Yes, for Ellinor and I both love the poor old creature.' - -'You are one after God's own heart, Mary,' said the minister, his -grey eyes kindling as he spoke. - -'We have never forgotten the strange weird dream--if dream it -was--she had in the winter night before dear papa died.' - -'And this dream?' said Captain Colville, inquiringly, and regarding -the girl's face with genuine interest. - -'Was a waking one--tell him, Mary,' said Dr. Wodrow, seeing that she -hesitated to speak of such things to an utter stranger. - -'When papa was on his death-bed,' said she, 'the winter snow covered -all the hills; it lay deep in the glen there, and even the great -cascade at the Linn hung frozen like a giant's beard in mid-air. -About the solemn gloaming time Elspat saw from her cottage window a -strange, dim, flickering light leave our house here, and proceed -slowly towards the village church, by a line where no road lies, and -pass through the churchyard wall at a place where no gates open, and -then, at a certain point, it vanished! At that precise time papa -died, and when the funeral day came--a day never to be forgotten by -us--the roads were so deep with snow that the procession took the way -traversed by the light, and, as the gates were buried deep, the wall -was crossed at the point indicated by the light, and the grave was -found to have been dug where the light vanished.' - -Mary's gentle voice broke as she told this little story, and whatever -Colville thought of it, though a town-bred Scotsman, no unbelief was -traceable in his face. - -'We know not what to think of such things,' said Dr. Wodrow, with one -of his soft smiles; 'but, as Sir William Hamilton says in his -metaphysics, "to doubt and be astonished is to recognise our own -ignorance. Hence it is that the lover of wisdom is to a certain -extent a lover of the mythic, for the subject of the mythic is the -astonishing and the marvellous." But the corpse-light is a common -superstition here, as the tomb-fires of the Norse used to be of old.' - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -ROBERT WODROW. - -Leaving Ellinor and Sir Redmond occupied with the contents of the -portfolio, Mary, accompanied by the other two visitors, issued into -the garden, where all the flowers of summer were in their brilliance. -They lingered for a time at the door of the barnyard, surmounted by -the quaint legend, and beyond which they could see Mary's cow -standing mid-leg deep among luxuriant clover, while at the sight of -her all the fowls, expectant of a feed, came towards her noisily in -flights; nor were they quite disappointed, as the pockets of her -lawn-tennis apron were not without some handfuls of corn, and -Colville could not help thinking what a charming picture she made at -that moment, as she stood with her sheeny hair in the sunshine -expatiating on the good qualities of her feathered subjects, among -whom many of Lord Dunkeld's pheasants came to feed as usual, but the -birds looked so beautiful in their brown and golden-tinted plumage -that Mary had never the heart to drive them away. - -'That is a beautiful Cochin China,' said she to Colville; 'she -consumes a gallon of barley every ten days; and is not that black -Spanish cock a splendid fellow? His feathers are like the richest -satin, and how strongly his plumage contrasts with my snow-white -dorkings; and are not these chickens like balls of golden fluff--dear -wee darlings!' - -And as she spoke, and scattered some grains among them from her quick -white hands, the birds fluttered in flights about her, as if she was -the mother of them all; and, as she gave Colville some corn to throw -among them, the Guardsman, with all his admiration of her, could not -resist a covert smile at himself and his surroundings. - -She looked so fresh and so innocent, and so ready to tell him all her -little plans and of her local interests. - -To him, a club man--a man of the world--accustomed to the giddy whirl -of London life, the Parks, the Row, Hurlingham and Lillie Bridge; -Lord's Cricket Ground, garden and water-parties, 'feeds' at the 'Star -and Garter,' and heaven only knows all what more--it was a new -sensation this, and a wonderfully pleasant one. - -He was next obliged to visit her ducks as they swam to and fro in an -artificial pond-- - - 'With glassy necks of emerald hue, - And wings barred with deepest blue - That sapphire gives; and ruddy breast - By the clear dimpling waters pressed,' - -as Dr. Wodrow quoted the poet; and then her brown owl, which had been -caught by Robert Wodrow, nearly at the risk of his life, in the -ruined tower of Invermay, and now sat in a hollow of the garden wall -secured by a net, behind which it winked and blinked and waited for a -sparrow or a field-mouse; and the girl seemed so bright and -independent, so happy and so busy with all the objects which formed -her little cares, that Leslie Colville surveyed her with a kind of -wonder and curiosity, for, while being perfectly ladylike, perfectly -bred and delicately nurtured, she was so unlike any woman he had ever -met before; her world was, in many respects, one altogether apart -from his. - -Meanwhile Sir Redmond, the very picture of bland laziness, though -secretly keen as a ferret, with his glass in his left eye and his -hands thrust into his trousers pockets, and his hair parted like a -woman's in the middle, was standing before Ellinor, and contemplating -her with evident satisfaction, for he was a _vaurien_ by nature. - -'And you have come here to shoot?' said she, as the portfolio was -relinquished at last. - -'To shoot--yes,' he replied; 'this will be my first turn at the game -in Scotland.' - -'Robert tells me that the gleds have sucked half the grouse eggs this -season.' - -'Gleds--what are they--nasty little boys?' - -'They are a kind of crow,' replied Ellinor, laughing excessively. - -'And who is Robert?' asked Sir Redmond, slowly, readjusting his -eyeglass. - -'The son of Dr. Wodrow,' replied Ellinor, colouring a little, as he -could perceive. - -'He prognosticates a bad look-out for us on the 12th of next month?' - -The normal expression of Sir Redmond's face, which was perhaps lazy -insolence, seemed to change when a smile spread over it, and then the -sensual lips, partly hidden by their fair moustache, became almost -handsome. In Ellinor's sketches there had been ample food for ready -conversation. Sir Redmond had seen all the picture galleries in -Europe, and, whether he understood it or not, could talk of art with -all the ease and fluency of a well-bred man of the world who was -desirous of pleasing, and he had watched with growing interest her -changing face and the brightening expression of her sweet eyes that -had become trained to observe all things; but now that the portfolio -was closed, the conversation had begun to flag a little. - -'Robert also told me,' said Ellinor, to fill up an awkward pause, -'that as the grouse had been seen close to the barn and orchard -walls, it is a sign of a severe winter.' - -'It is too soon to think of winter yet; but he seems to be an -authority in zoological matters, this Mr.--Mr.----' - -'Wodrow.' - -'Ah, yes--Robert Wodrow.' - -'He is here to speak for himself,' said Ellinor, with just the -slightest _soupçon_ of confusion or of annoyance in her manner as a -young man entered unannounced, and was at once introduced to Sir -Redmond Sleath, who, in responding to his bow, proceeded at once to -focus him with his eyeglass. - -With a well-knit, well-set-up figure, Robert Wodrow was an -active-looking young fellow, somewhat less in stature than Sir -Redmond, less dignified in air and bearing, yet not less like a -gentleman. He had his father's regular features, his open character -of face, and honest dark-grey eyes, in which at times there was a -thoughtful expression, the result of hard study. At others a merry, -devil-may-carish one, the result of life among the rollicking medical -students of a great University. - -Without adverting to any subject on which the two had been talking -with reference to himself, he proceeded at once to address Ellinor. - -'I have brought the ferns you wished for,' said he, placing in her -hand a tuft of sprays. - -'Oh, thanks; my wish was so slightly expressed.' - -'It was a command to me,' he said, in a low voice. - -'How far did you walk for them?' - -'More than ten miles down Earn side.' - -'Ten miles!' - -'Near to Strath Allan.' - -'Dear me--the Allan Water!' said Sir Redmond. 'Is that the place -where the miller's lovely daughter so sadly misconducted herself in -the sweet spring time of the year?' - -Robert's reply to this question was only a cold and haughty stare, -under which even the baronet's _insouciance_ nearly failed him, but -from that moment the two men instinctively felt themselves enemies. - -'Why did you take so much trouble for a mere trifle, Robert?' asked -the girl. - -'Because I heard you express a wish to have that particular fern, -Ellinor,' replied the young fellow, whose eyes seemed to say that he -would have gone ten times the distance ungrudgingly for one of her -old smiles, or for the smile she was now according, not to him, but -to her strange visitor, whose eyebrows were slightly and inquiringly -elevated, as he glanced at the speaker, who seemed so much _en -famille_ at Birkwoodbrae, and called Ellinor by her Christian name, -and who saw that she placed the fern leaves on the table, and -soon--Robert Wodrow thought too soon--forgot all about them -apparently. - -'You have known Robert long, I presume, Miss Ellinor?' said Sir -Redmond, with a twinkle in his cold, china-blue eyes, and as he would -have spoken of a boy or a child. - -'I have known him all my life,' she replied. - -'Indeed!' drawled the other, who now rose and took up his hat, as -Colville and Dr. Wodrow appeared, and were about to depart, and, -bidding adieu to the ladies, the two visitors from Craigmhor bent -their steps in that direction, while the minister lingered behind. - -'Isn't she pretty!' exclaimed Sir Redmond, as they proceeded along -the highway that seemed like a private avenue, so thickly was it -bordered and over-arched by beautiful and drooping silver birches. - -'She--who--which?' asked Captain Colville, with a slightly ruffled -tone. - -'Ellinor--the youngest sister.' - -'_Miss_ Ellinor Wellwood,' said Colville, with an accent on the word, -'is downright lovely, man; but you think every girl pretty, -especially when in the country.' - -'And away from contrasts, you mean; but excuse me; I am neither so -facile nor so inflammable as that comes to; yet I do know a handsome -girl when I see one; and by Jove, little Ellinor is one to cultivate. -Two such girls living there alone seems a singular proceeding.' - -'In your eyes, I have no doubt,' replied Colville, stooping to light -a cigar, and hide the expression of annoyance that crossed his face; -'but it is not so much, perhaps, in the place where their parents -have been respected; and where all know them well, and seem to love -them.' - -'Dressed as I could dress her,' continued Sleath, still pursuing one -thought, and that an evil one, 'she would make quite a -sensation--never saw such hair and eyes, by Jove.' - -'What do you mean?' asked Leslie Colville, coldly. - -'Well, among other things, I mean that she is a deal too pretty to be -thrown away upon that Scotch country clodhopper, who is evidently -spoony upon her--has known her all her life, and all that sort of -thing, don't you know.' - -'Whom do you mean now?' - -'This--well--ah--what's his deuced name--Robert Wodrow.' - -'The son of a very worthy man--a friend of mine, Sir Redmond.' - -'Oh--ah--indeed.' - -Colville's face darkened and grew rather stern. - -Why? - -We shall be able to let a little light on his secret emotion in time -to come. - -Meanwhile the speakers were the source of some speculation among -those they had just quitted. - -'Who are those gentlemen, Dr. Wodrow?' asked Mary. - -'Captain Colville, of the Household Brigade, and Sir Redmond Sleath, -a baronet, and wealthy, I believe, friends of the Dunkeld family, -come here for the Twelfth. Are you pleased with them?' - -'Oh, yes,' replied Ellinor, but Mary remained silent. - -'Perhaps one may prove like the hunter who came in the olden time to -hunt here, and wooed the pretty maid of Forteviot,' said the doctor, -laughing, and pinching her soft cheek. - -'And Captain Colville is engaged to Blanche Galloway, is he not?' she -asked. - -'So I believe. A man of undoubted wealth, he has lately succeeded to -property of various kinds, and means, it is said, to urge his claim -in the female line to the peerage of Ochiltree, which has been -dormant since the death of David, fourth lord, in 1782. He has thus -assumed the name of Colville.' - -'Lord Colville of Ochiltree,' said Mary, softly and thoughtfully. - -'Yes--he claims that peerage, my dear,' replied Dr. Wodrow. 'I have -a great and melancholy respect for our dormant, extinct, and--more -than all--for our attainted peerages. The men who held them were -generally, if not all, true to Scotland, which is more than we can -say for our mongrel and often cockney-born peers of the present day; -but Captain Colville would be one, good, honest, and true, I doubt -not.' - -'And his own name?' - -'I do not precisely know,' replied the minister, whose son listened -to all this with a lowering brow, but lingered a little behind his -father, and, while the latter was striding along the green lanes -towards the manse, Robert was telling Ellinor over again of all his -hopes and plans, and his expectation of certainly graduating in -medicine at Edinburgh, and that he would get his diploma very -shortly; and then--and then--what then? - -A kiss given in secret seemed more than a reward for all his labours -and consumption of the midnight oil in a lonely lodging up a common -stair near the old '_Academia Jacobi VI. Scotorum Regis_,' and where -he had pored for many a weary hour over 'Quain's Anatomy,' -'Christison's Dispensatory,' 'Balfour's Botany,' and so forth, -inspired by his love for Ellinor Wellwood, and now he left her, with -his heart full of happy dreams of the future. - -'Why did Dr. Wodrow bring those two strange gentlemen here?' remarked -Ellinor. - -'You may well surmise,' said Mary; 'to visit two girls living alone -as we do. It is so unlike him and his usual care.' - -'_That_ Captain Colville struck me as being very inquisitive about us -and our surroundings.' - -'I do not think so,' replied Mary; 'but his friend appeared a very -_blasé_ man of the world indeed, if I am a correct judge. But, if -afternoon tea was merely their object, why not have gone to the -manse?' - -Gentlemen visitors--especially of such a style as these two--one a -baronet, the other a Guardsman and claimant of a peerage--were not -very usual at Birkwoodbrae; so, apart from the natural surmises as to -why the old minister, usually so wary, chary, and shy about all -introductions, should have brought these two to pass, the two girls -had much to speculate upon that proved of considerable interest to -both. - -Old Colonel Wellwood, as we have said, when on his death-bed, had -verbally left his two orphan daughters in the care and custody of his -old friend the minister, and faithfully and kindly had the latter and -his worthy better-half taken the trust upon them. - -But no influence could induce the sisters, Mary especially, to quit -Birkwoodbrae and reside at the manse. There was a strong spirit of -independence in the girls, and believing in self-help they continued -to reside in the house wherein their parents died, undisturbed, as we -have said, by their kinsman, who was far away abroad. - -Till the next Sunday in church the sisters of Birkwoodbrae saw -nothing of their two visitors. The latter--ignoring the service, or -seeming at least rather indifferent about it--were in Lord Dunkeld's -pew, a large, old-fashioned one, panelled with carved oak, lined with -crimson velvet, and having a little oak table in the centre of it. -An arched window, in which some fragments of the original stained -glass of pre-Reformation times remained, was near, and through it the -sunshine streamed on the handsome face and unexceptionable bonnet of -Blanche Galloway, who barely accorded the sisters a bow, and then -bent her over her book, which she shared with Captain Colville. - -Her father, the old lord--of whom more anon--seemed to doze, while -Sir Redmond, when not glancing towards Mary and Ellinor Wellwood, -seemed to occupy himself with studying the faces, not of the -hard-featured country congregation, but of the Scoto-Norman chancel -arch, which exhibited elaborate zig-zag rows of heads of fabulous -figures and animals, characteristic of church architecture in the -days of William the Lion and Alexander I. A few coats armorial were -discernible here and there, emblems of races, conquests, honours, and -dignities of later times, all of which had passed away; tombs where -whilom hung the helmets, banners, and swords of those who defended -Scotland when Scotland was true to herself, and the days when she -would sink to be a neglected province were unforeseen. - -Of Dr. Wodrow's sermon Ellinor took little heed. With the watchful -and loving eyes of Robert upon her she was only anxious to get away -from church without being addressed by Sir Redmond Sleath, and as the -latter and his friend the captain were on 'escort duty' with the fair -Blanche, Mary fully shared her anxiety and wish; thus both sisters -were on the wing by the close of the last psalm, that sound so -welcome to the shepherd-dogs, who were coiled under their master's -pews, and at the first notes thereof were seen to yawn and stretch -forth their legs in anticipation of a fight in the churchyard, or a -scamper after the sheep on the breezy sides of the hills. - -Leslie Colville and Sir Redmond were not, however, though we have -said it, 'friends.' Their natures were too dissimilar for that; they -were merely acquaintances, and, like some other guests, had met for -perhaps the first time at Craigmhor. - -Both were--to the casual eye--unexceptionable in manner and -appearance; but Colville's nature and disposition were open, manly, -candid, and genuinely honest; while those of Sir Redmond, whose -baronetcy dated from 'yesterday,' were crooked, selfish, and secretly -prone to many kinds of dissipation and evil. He had gone through the -worst curriculum of both that the worlds of London and Paris can -furnish. His very eyes and lips, at times, told as much. - -Discovering speedily that Leslie Colville resented any loose or -slighting remarks concerning the young ladies at Birkwoodbrae, and -that he still more would be disposed to resent any attentions on his -part towards them, though why or wherefore seemed very mysterious, -Sir Redmond Sleath contrived to pay more than one visit, and to -bestow more than one attention in secret, at least unknown to -Colville; he, a sly Englishman of the worst type, conceiving that the -other was only a 'sly Scotsman,' with views of his own, as he himself -had. - -On the pretence of bringing books, music, flowers, and so forth to -the sisters, but more particularly Ellinor, Sir Redmond had found his -way to the little villa rather oftener than Dr. Wodrow, and still -more than the latter's son, would have relished. Hence, one day when -Robert came to Birkwoodbrae, he saw the wished-for ferns he had gone -so far and so lovingly to procure--not planted in her little fernery, -but--lying dead, withered, and forgotten in a walk of the garden. - -Robert Wodrow made no remark on this, but the neglect seemed somehow -to tell a bitter tale to his heart. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -THE DUNKELD FAMILY. - -'Ah, London is the true place for life! One exists only in the -country, but in London we live!' exclaimed Lady Dunkeld. - -'You are right, my Lady Dunkeld!' exclaimed Sir Redmond Sleath; but -life in London had for him some elements to his listener unknown--or, -if so, not cared for--flirtations with pretty actresses, dinners to -fast fair ones at the 'Star and Garter,' cards, billiards, pool, and -pyramid, all very nice things in their way, but ruinous if carried to -excess, even by a bachelor of Sir Redmond's means. - -'I agree with you also, mamma,' said her daughter; 'but what is it to -be--a ball, or dinner-party, or a garden-party we must give, if not -all the three?' - -'A garden-party by all means, Blanche.' - -And Blanche shrugged her shoulders with the quaint foreign gesture -which she inherited with her French blood, and took a sheet of paper -from her desk to make out a list of names, to which her father, the -old peer, listened with perfect indifference, if he listened at all. - -Though descended from Patrick Galloway, who was minister of the -Gospel at Edinburgh in the reign of James VI., the Dunkeld family, as -the Scottish Peerage tells us, were first ennobled in the person of -Sir James Galloway of Carnbee, in Fifeshire, who was Master of the -Requests to James VI. and Charles I., Secretary of State and Clerk to -the Bills, and was 'created Lord Dunkeld by patent on the 15th of -May, 1645.' After intermarriages with the families of Duddingston -and Dudhope, we come to 'James, third Lord Dunkeld, who was bred to -the army, and was accounted a very good officer,' says Douglas; 'he -joined Lord Dundee when he raised forces for King James VII., and was -with him at the battle of Killiecrankie.' - -There he was one of the foremost in that heroic charge, before which - - 'Horse and man went down like drift-wood - When the floods are black at Yule, - And their carcases were whirling - In the Garry's deepest pool.' - - -Outlawed, he became a colonel in the French service, and fell in -battle but long after; his name appears as 'my Lord Dunkell' in the -_Liste des Officiers Genereaux_ for May 10, 1748. - -James, the fourth lord, was also a general in the French army, and -was a Grand Cross of St. Louis. - -His grandson, the present lord, proved--untrue to the old traditions -of his race--a very different, useless, and mediocre Scottish peer, -of the type too well known in our day. He had no property in -Scotland, and no more interest in her people, morally, practically, -or politically, than a Zulu chief. He was proud of his descent and -title, nothing more, and, not being very wealthy, thought, like his -wife, that Leslie Colville would be a very eligible son-in-law; while -at his death his title would inevitably pass to a second cousin, -Colonel Charles Edward Galloway, _chef d'escadron_ of a cavalry -regiment, then quartered at Chalons-sur-Marne. - -Lord Dunkeld had one pet vanity--a real or fancied resemblance in his -profile to those of the Grand Monarque and the later Louis of France; -a facial angle indicative of weakness certainly, if not of worse; -but, if the idea pleased him, it did no one any harm. - -Though thoroughly English bred, and English in all her ideas, as -taken from her mother, the Hon. Blanche Gabrielle--so called from her -grandmother, Gabrielle de Fontaine-Martel (daughter of the marquis of -that name)--had considerable French espièglerie in her manner, and -many pretty foreign tricks of it, with her eyebrows and hands, but -she was naturally cold, ambitious, selfish, and vain. - -It was the luncheon-time at Craigmhor, which Lord Dunkeld only -rented. The shooting had not yet begun; the circle therefore had -some difficulty in getting through the days, and the necessity for -some amusement being devised, 'something being done,' was on the -tapis. - -Blanche wore a dress of plain blue serge, with a simple linen collar -and lace collarette encircling her slender neck. Her hair, of a -light golden tint, was dressed in the most perfect taste by the deft -fingers of Mademoiselle Rosette, her French maid. In contrast to her -hair, her eyes were dark--large eyes, full of observation and -expressive of sensitiveness; she had delicately cut lips, which -always seemed to droop when she did not smile. - -She had a general air of great softness and sweetness, which was most -deceptive, as Blanche Galloway was secretly strong, with all the -strength of one who in love, hate, or ambition could be fearless, and -wily as fearless. Lastly, she had that which so often comes with -foreign blood in a girl's veins, the faintest indication of a -moustache, or down, at the corners of her red and mobile lips. - -Luncheon, we say, was in progress. Colville, Sir Redmond, and some -other guests (who have no part in our story) were busy thereat; and -the old family butler--in some respects an old family tyrant, who -resented any alteration in the daily domestic arrangements as -something bordering on a personal affront--was carving at the -sideboard. - -It was high summer now. The chestnuts were in full leaf, and their -shadows were lightened by the silver birches. The garden around -Craigmhor was red with roses; the stone vases on the paved terrace -were teeming with fragrant blossoms, and the stately peacocks, their -tails studded with the fabled eyes of Argus, iridescent and flashing -in the sunshine, strutted to and fro. - -Craigmhor (or the Great Rock) was neither a Highland stronghold of -the middle ages nor a Scoto-French chateau of the latter James's, but -a very handsome modern villa, with all the appurtenances and -appliances that wealth and luxury can supply in the present day, -otherwise my Lady Dunkeld could not have endured it. - -Once a belle in Mayfair, she had many remains of beauty still, as she -was not over her fortieth year. Sooth to say--and we are sorry to -record it--she did not like Scotsmen very much, but she rather -approved of Leslie Colville. He was now very rich--the probable -inheritor of a title nearly as old as that borne by her husband; and -having been educated at Rugby, and being now in the Guards, he was a -kind of Englishman by naturalization, a view which perhaps Colville -would have resented. - -For many reasons Lady Dunkeld did not care about a ball in the -country; it was so difficult where to draw the line with regard to -the invitations. - -In London her balls were always a success--no one knew precisely how -or why--yet they were so, though organised just like those of other -people. Her cards of invitation were always in keen request, and, -though she had the reputation of yearly launching into society, and -getting excellent matches for a bevy of lovely girls, her daughter -Blanche, now in her twenty-fourth year, was still upon her hands. - -So the idea of a garden-party was carried _nem. con._, as suitable to -'all sorts.' - -They might have in the garden and lawn those with whom they could not -be intimate in the house. It was easy to entertain with ices, wine, -and fruit, music, and chit-chat those whom they cared not to have at -their mahogany, or to meet in the tolerably perfect equality of a -ball-room. Oh, yes, a garden-party was just the sort of thing to -have for the people about Craigmhor, who were not county people. - -So, while some of the gentlemen withdrew to smoke and idle in the -gun-room or stables, Blanche seated herself at her davenport, and, -with a dainty gold pencil, proceeded to make out the list for her -mamma. - -Certain names were put down as a matter of course; those of adjacent -landholders or the renters of shootings--many of whom were English -idlers of good position; also 'a paper lord,' who lived in the -vicinity, for, in absence of the real article, as Sir Redmond said, -with a laugh, 'the factitious rank that accrues to the Scottish bench -was always acceptable in Scotland.' But though Sir Redmond was a -baronet, he came of a family which, like that of Mrs. Grizzle Pickle, -'was not to be traced two generations back by all the powers of -heraldry or tradition.' - -A country doctor and a clergyman or two, with their families, come -next, including the Rev. Dr. Wodrow, of course. - -'The Misses Wellwood, mamma?' said Blanche, inquiringly, as she -looked up from her list. 'I saw them at church on Sunday.' - -'Are these girls living alone--still?' asked Lady Dunkeld, 'without -even an old maid to play propriety.' - -'It is clearly against the rules of society, mamma.' - -'As laid down by Mrs. Grundy. Have them, by all means,' said Lord -Dunkeld; 'but for their extreme goodness, charity, and spotless -lives, uncharitable people might say uncharitable things. We must -have them, Blanche; their father was a brave old officer.' - -Whether it was some French associations and his half-blood that -influenced him, we cannot say; but Lord Dunkeld by no means shared in -the prejudices of his wife and daughter against the two orphan girls -at Birkwoodbrae, more especially, as he admitted, their father had -been, like himself and his fathers before him, a man of the sword. - -'Put their names down, Blanche,' said Lady Dunkeld; adding mentally, -'men like Sir Redmond will be sure to get up a flirtation, which -these cottage girls will be sure to misunderstand.' - -'But will they come, mamma?' said Blanche. 'You know we have never -called on them.' - -'That is a matter easily remedied--deliver your invitations in -person,' said old Lord Dunkeld. - -'And if we invite them here, are we also to invite the elder girl's -shadow?' asked Blanche. - -'Her shadow!' exclaimed Lady Dunkeld. Who do you mean?' - -'That young man--I do not rightly know his name--to whom she is, -Rosette tells me, engaged.' - -'Of course not; where would your list end if we went on thus?' - -Blanche either meant Ellinor's lover, or made a mistake; but somehow -both Colville and Sir Redmond Sleath noted her words. - -After a time it was discovered that 'the young man' referred to was -Dr. Wodrow's only son, so his name was included in the list. - -'How many such acquaintances as these people are made in a year and -then dropped,' observed Blanche, unaware that Captain Colville -coloured with something of pain and even annoyance at her remark. - -To all this sort of thing Sir Redmond Sleath listened with attention. -We need not conceal the fact or circumstance that this enterprising -baronet had marked out the soft, dreamy, artistic, and gentle Ellinor -for a kind of _affaire du cœur_ peculiarly his own. Mary -Wellwood, from her natural strength of character, he knew to be -beyond the range of his nefarious views or schemes; and eventually, -the warmth of his attentions to Ellinor were only curbed in public or -veiled by a wholesome fear of his new acquaintance, Captain Colville, -who, he thought, was 'idiotically smitten' by a fancy for or interest -in Mary, for a time, of course, he supposed, 'as these things never -lasted;' and he hoped, when the Guardsman went back to town and was -fully under the influence of Blanche and her mother, to return to the -vicinity of Birkwoodbrae on any pretence, and then have the field to -himself. - -For a man like Sir Redmond there was a strange fascination in -achieving the conquest of, or in 'running to earth,' as he would have -phrased it, a girl so pure and confiding as Ellinor, and whose beauty -and helplessness inspired him with a kind of love, as he thought it, -but a selfish love peculiarly his own. - -It may excite surprise that such worldlings as Lord and Lady Dunkeld -did not prefer a baronet as a _parti_ for their daughter's hand; but -Leslie Colville was by far the richer of the two, and possessed -landed property in various directions; and, however Sir Redmond might -admire Blanche Galloway, he dared not raise his eyes to her, for very -sufficient reasons yet to be explained. - -Finding that Colville, as we have said, was curiously disposed to -resent some of his off-hand remarks about Mary and Ellinor Wellwood, -he began to take refuge in professions of the greatest esteem for -them both, and occasionally urged his regard for the youngest. - -'In love again--you--and with a little country lass?' said Colville, -laughing. 'You who were over head and ears, as the saying is, with -Lady Sarah, all last season, as repute said.' - -'When she loved me--if she was capable of it,' replied Sleath, with a -dark look, 'she was indeed my Queen of Hearts.' - -'And now, having married that millionaire fellow, she is Queen of -Diamonds. But what could you expect of a girl who was engaged to two -men at once, and wore the engagement rings of _both_?' - -'Of course her heart was no longer her own when the millionaire -solicited. She accepted him, and made a hecatomb of my letters and -those of another fool, who is now broiling with his regiment in South -Africa. 'The world well lost for love' is poetic, certainly, but -devilish stupid practically.' - -Though entirely opposite and different in character and disposition, -both these men looked forward with pleasure to the anticipated -garden-party--Colville with real satisfaction to the hope of meeting -Mary Wellwood once more; and Sir Redmond to the chances of furthering -his own particular views. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -THE VISIT. - -Putting some constraint upon themselves, we are sorry to say, Lady -Dunkeld and her daughter on the following afternoon drove over to -Birkwoodbrae, and sent in their cards to Mary and Ellinor Wellwood, -who were busy in their little drawing-room with some piles of -freshly-cut flowers; and though both were startled--or certainly -surprised--by this unusual visit, nothing of that emotion was -perceptible in their manner; yet the arrival of the London carriage, -with its showy hammercloth, with the Dunkeld arms on the panels, a -row of plated coronets round the top, the elaborate 'snobbery,' if we -may call it so, of rank--Scottish rank, too often without -patriotism--was there--excited something akin to terror among the old -servants; and the way in which one of the tall 'matched footmen' -pulled the door bell, and the other banged down the carriage steps, -went quite 'upon the nerves' of old Elspat Gordon, and the visitors -sailed in, displaying those perfect toilettes which were suited to -the Row, and which London alone can produce. - -The beauty of the day, of the weather generally, more than all the -beauty of Birkwoodbrae and its garden, 'which seemed quite a love of -a place, with all its roses and flowers,' were all discoursed on -rapidly and fluently by Lady Dunkeld and Blanche Galloway, while -their observant eyes took in every detail of the sisters, their -appearance, dress, and surroundings, with all of which they felt -secretly bound to admit that no solid fault could be found, though -the carpets, hangings, and so forth had certainly seen better times. - -'We are to have a garden-party in a few days, Miss Wellwood,' said -Lady Dunkeld, 'and hope to have the pleasure of seeing you and Miss -Ellinor. Lest you might be out, I have brought your cards; but, -being a country gathering, it will be, I fear, rather a tame affair,' -she added, smiling, as she laid the embossed and scented missives on -the table. - -Mary's long lashes quivered as she glanced at Ellinor. Both bowed an -assent, and murmured thanks, adding that they led very quiet lives -now, and seldom went much abroad. - -'What are you making with all these beautiful flowers?' asked Blanche -Galloway; 'two funeral chaplets apparently.' - -'They are so--green ivy leaves, white roses, and lily of the valley,' -replied Mary. - -'For what purpose?' - -'To lay on the graves of papa and mamma. To-morrow is the -anniversary of her death--she died in summer, papa in winter,' she -added, with the slightest perceptible break in her voice. - -'Oh, indeed; how good of you!' murmured Lady Dunkeld. - -'How pretty!' cooed her daughter, one of those young ladies so -carefully trained as to think it 'awfully bad form' to betray any -emotion or feeling that was in any way natural. - -'Sir Redmond Sleath was so enchanted with your drawings, Miss -Ellinor,' said Lady Dunkeld, to change the subject, as woful ones -were eminently distasteful to her. 'He is never weary of singing -their praises.' - -This was not strictly true, for the baronet had just barely mentioned -the matter once, but poor Ellinor blushed with real pleasure. - -'He is very good-natured,' said Miss Galloway, lest the listener -might value Sir Redmond's praises too highly; 'but fastidious--oh, -very fastidious. Don't you think he has handsome eyes?' - -'I did not observe them.' - -'Indeed! They are a lovely blue.' - -'I never before heard a man's eyes called lovely,' said Mary, -laughing. - -'And he is such a flirt!' - -'Blanche, child!' expostulated her mother. - -'But he has strange ideas--people say he will never marry,' added the -'child,' who was determined that, whatever Ellinor might think, she -was not to flatter herself that she had made anything approaching a -conquest. 'He has been everywhere, and, of course, has seen -everything.' - -'And is a male flirt, you say?' said Mary, smiling. - -'Too awfully so; but then, most of the young ladies he knows are not -disinclined to a little flirtation, and can take very good care of -themselves.' - -As Miss Galloway spoke, there was the slightest derisive erection of -her delicate eyebrows, and the pointed intonation of mockery in her -well-bred voice. All this was meant for Ellinor's edification, and -she did not entirely forget it; but to Mary there seemed something -discordant, flippant, and strange in thus discussing a visitor's ways -or character. - -'We all travelled together,' said Lady Dunkeld, 'and came straight -from London to Perth. As for tarrying in Edinburgh, that was not to -be thought of.' - -'Of course not,' added Blanche, shrugging her shoulders. 'I don't -think even Captain Colville with all his patriotism could stand the -dulness, the narrow ideas, and the bad style of people there. All -provincial towns are so unbearable after London.' - -Mary Wellwood resented, but silently, their ungracious remarks. Her -memories of Edinburgh were experiences never to be forgotten; and she -thought of the lovely valley gardens, the veritable river of greenery -under the vast Castle Rock, the glorious white terraces of the New -Town, the dark and history-haunted masses of the Old--the Regalia, -Mons Meg, and all the rest of it, as she had seen them in the -happiest days of her girlhood; and she felt pleased when Lady Dunkeld -said: - -'Captain Colville had not been there for years; and he _was_ disposed -to stay a day or two behind us.' - -'Surely not for the sake of any beauty he saw,' exclaimed Blanche, -laughing; 'but in many ways he is very different from Sir Redmond.' - -He was indeed, we are glad to say; but in what particular manner the -Hon. Blanche referred to, the sisters were not fated to know, as Lady -Dunkeld now rose, the carriage was summoned, and saying with one of -her sweet but stereotyped smiles, 'we shall expect to see you at our -little affair, gave them the tips of her gloved fingers and swept -away. - -Mary and Ellinor looked at each other with a little expression of -surprise and bewilderment in their faces, and both felt that Blanche -Galloway had, to say the least of it, disappointed them by her -general style. - -Their emotions varied--one moment they felt flattered and pleased by -the recognition of their own position and that once held by their -parents in society which the sudden visit from the ladies of the -great house implied. - -At another moment they felt the reverse--feared they were being -patronised, and thought they should decline the invitation. - -Yet why? - -To do so would be, perhaps, to adopt the position of an inferior; and -the invitation might be the result of real kindness of heart, after -all. - -They knew not that they were indebted for the whole affair chiefly to -a few friendly remarks made by Lord Dunkeld, and more especially by -Leslie Colville, though those of the latter caused some afterthoughts. - -'Men are very weak,' surmised Lady Dunkeld; 'but, of course, a man in -Captain Colville's position can mean nothing more than simplest -kindness, but the girls are pretty--unfortunately for themselves, I -think, more than pretty.' - -The pride, admiration, and half-alarm of Elspat Gordon and other old -servitors on the subject of the visit, which proved their nine days' -wonder, amused while it annoyed Mary. She had her own ideas--it -might be fears for the future--and, though she said little, she -thought a good deal. - -The acceptances were written and despatched; and costumes were the -next thing to be considered for the entertainment, of which Robert -Wodrow heard the tidings with a very dark expression in his face -indeed. - -'Of what are you thinking, Ellinor?' asked Mary, softly, seeing the -dark eyes of her sister fixed apparently on vacancy. - -'Only of how differently the lives of some of us are allotted, and -how pleasantly some people are circumstanced, compared with others.' - -'Meaning ourselves and such as Blanche Galloway?' - -'Well, yes.' - -'Never mind, Ellinor dear,' replied Mary; 'I always say, blessed be -God for all His gifts,' she added, thinking of the legend over the -old doorway. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -DREAMS AND DOUBTS. - -The sun of a soft and balmy summer afternoon was, as the song has it, - - 'Glinting bright - On Invermay's sweet glen and stream,' - -on all the silver birches that grow thereby, on the rocky gullies -through which the stream gurgles and babbles as it forces a passage -towards the Earn, and on the green mound of the Holy Hill, of which -its ceaseless current has swept so much away, when Mary Wellwood, -alone, or attended only by her dog, and full of her own happy and -innocent day-dreams, took a narrow path that leads northward down the -side of the sylvan strath. - -Her dress was plain, but fitted well her lithe and slender figure. -She had on the daintiest of white cuffs and collar; a sunshade over -her head lined with pink imparted to her soft face a glow that it did -not naturally possess, and over her left arm were the two chaplets -she and Ellinor had been so lately preparing. - -No sound but the rustle of leaves and the twitter of birds broke the -sunny stillness, till she eventually heard Jack, her fox-terrier, who -was careering in front of her, barking and yelping with all the -satisfaction of a joyous dog that has met with a friend, and almost -immediately afterwards a turn of the rocky path brought her face to -face with Captain Colville, who, rod in hand and basket on shoulder, -had just quitted his fishing in the May after a satisfactory day's -sport, and about whose well-gaitered legs Jack was leaping and -bounding noisily. - -'When Jack was here, I knew his mistress could not be far off,' said -Colville, lifting his fly-garnished wideawake and presenting a hand -with his brightest smile. 'You know the saw, Miss Wellwood, "Love -me, love my dog," but it would seem that Jack loves me. And Jack is -a travelled dog, I understand--one who has seen the world?' - -'Yes; Jack was a soldier's dog--was with Roberts' army in India, and -in more than one battle,' replied Mary. - -'I too have been in India--a bond between Jack and me,' said -Colville, as he produced a biscuit from his pocket, and the dog -caught it with a snap. - -'He wags his dear old tail quite as if he recognised a comrade,' said -Mary, laughing, while Colville accompanied her along the narrow path -over which the silver birches drooped their graceful foliage. - -'And so you and your sister, Miss Ellinor, are cousins of my -brother-officer, Wellwood?' said Colville, after a pause, and a -little abruptly, as Mary thought. - -'I am sorry to say we are.' - -'Why sorry--he is not half a bad fellow?' - -'Well, I have no reason to be otherwise than quite indifferent on the -subject of his existence. It was some family matter. Our parents -were never friends, and he--he----' - -'What?' - -'Has chosen to forget there were such persons in the world as Ellinor -and I; and considering that we have so few relations--none else -nearly now----' Mary paused, and her eyes fell on the chaplets -through which her slender arm was passed. - -'He could never have seen you,' said Colville, earnestly; 'had he -done so he would never have forgotten you, believe me; and when I -tell him----' - -'Tell him nothing, pray.' - -'As you please, Miss Wellwood. I knew him in India, before I was in -the Guards.' - -'Indeed.' - -'Yes; I remember his first dinner with our mess at Lahore--got -screwed, as the phrase is; and how do you think he was taken to his -bungalow?' - -'In a cab, perhaps,' suggested Mary. - -'We carried him through the lines shoulder-high upon a door, with the -bugles playing the "Dead March in Saul," before him.' - -'Then he is dissipated?' - -'Oh--awfully--a wild fellow, in that sense.' - -'He was wounded in an affair with a hill tribe?' - -'So was I. Had your odious cousin been shot, I suppose you would not -have cared much?' - -'Nay--nay--_nay_,' exclaimed Mary; 'can you think so vilely of me? -Perhaps I might have wept for him?' - -'Indeed. Why?' - -'In the knowledge that, like Ellinor and myself, he had no father, -mother, or other kindred to sorrow for him.' - -Her voice, musical at all times, and sweetly modulated--for a chord -seemed to run through every word--broke a little just then; and she -coloured on seeing how earnestly her companion was regarding her. - -'For what purpose are those wreaths of flowers?' he asked, softly, -after a pause. - -'To lay upon our graves.' - -'Our graves,' he repeated. - -'Papa and mamma's graves, I mean.' - -'A melancholy duty.' - -'The only one that is left us now.' - -'May I accompany you?' - -'If you choose, Captain Colville.' - -'And where are they buried?' - -'Here,' replied Mary, as she gently opened the gate of the -churchyard, and they entered together. - -It was an old and sequestered burying-ground--older than the days -when Fordoun, the Father of Scottish History, wrote of the district -as Fortevioch, a supposed corruption of the Gaelic for distant and -remote. Old headstones, spotted with lichens and green with moss, -were there half sunk in the ground amid the long rank grass; but the -two graves that Mary sought so lovingly, were smoothly turfed and -adorned with flowers planted by the hands of herself and Ellinor. - -As she knelt to deposit a chaplet at the head of each, Colville read -the inscription on the modest tombstone to the memory of Colonel -Wellwood, of the Scots Fusiliers, and Ellinor his wife, and Mary, -glancing upwards, saw that as he read a soft expression stole into -his face, while he hastily, almost surreptitiously, lifted his hat, -and then looked more kindly, if possible, at her. - -'Well,' thought the girl, 'he is, at least, the best of good fellows -to feel this interest in total strangers. It is, I suppose, what -poor papa used to call "the Freemasonry of the service."' - -Anon came other thoughts that were less pleasing to her. Did real -emotion and kindness prompt all this, or was it but a cunning -attempt, by an affectation of sympathy and friendly interest, to gain -her favour. - -But she repelled the suspicion as something unworthy of him and of -herself. - -Quitting the churchyard in silence, he softly closed the gate, and -they continued to walk on slowly a little way together, and Colville -was silently recalling Mary's curious legendary story of the funereal -light seen by Elspat, the old soldier's widow. - -Mary Wellwood's manner and bearing proved to Colville wonderfully -attractive. Easy, unaffected, and apparently unconscious of her own -beauty, she was charming. She was equal, in all the attributes of -good society, to any girl he had met, and Leslie Colville was no bad -judge, as he had been brought up in an exclusive set, among whom any -faults of breeding were discrepancies never to be atoned for. - -And she--how was she affected towards him? Stealing a glance at his -handsome face and figure from time to time, and listening to his very -pleasant voice, Mary--somewhat of a day-dreamer--was thinking how -delightful it would have been had God given her and Ellinor such a -man as a brother to guide, love, and protect them. - -It began to seem to both that they had been friends--companions -certainly--for a longer time than they had known each other; they -discovered so much in common between them, so far as sentiment and -opinion went; but remembering Mr. Wodrow's assurance that Captain -Colville was engaged to Blanche Galloway, she compelled herself to be -somewhat reserved in her manner towards him, yet more than once it -thawed unconsciously. However, she was a little startled when, after -a pause, he said suddenly, in a low and earnest tone, while looking -down into her face, - -'Tell me something of your life here at Invermay, Miss Wellwood?' - -'Something of my life--what a strange request!' exclaimed Mary, her -dark blue eyes dilating as she spoke. 'What can I tell you that -could be of interest to you?' - -'Pardon me--how your time passes, for instance, I mean.' - -'As you see,' she replied, smiling, 'and as you have seen; my daily -duties but repeat themselves. I have my little household to look -after, accounts and taxes to pay--thanks to our kind kinsman abroad -(for Birkwoodbrae is entailed) we have no rent to pay; I have my -feathered family in the yard to supervise; my garden with its flowers -and fruits; my poor pensioners in the village and all round about.' - -'A grey life for one so young and winning,' thought Colville; 'and -with you,' he added aloud, 'so runs the world away?' - -'Yes.' - -'And all your people love you, Dr. Wodrow tells me?' - -'I hope so--nay, I am sure they do,' replied Mary, with one of her -brightest smiles. - -'And you love the scenery here?' - -'Yes--every rock and tree and stream; they have all their old stories -and young associations to me.' - -'And your old home at Birkwoodbrae?' he added, smiling at her -enthusiasm. - -'Yes--dearly, every stone of it!' - -He paused a little, as if lost in thought, and then said, - -'But surely you must miss something in your life, Miss Wellwood--you -must be lonely amid these birchen woods?' - -'Lonely with Ellinor and all my work? Oh! no. I assure you I am -not.' - -'But you cannot expect to have her--a girl so very handsome--always -with you?' - -'Perhaps not,' said Mary, and her long dark lashes drooped, as her -thoughts hovered between poor Robert Wodrow and his probable rival, -the tawny-haired Englishman. - -'Nor can she always have you; and what then?' said Colville, lightly -touching her hand, and lowering his voice in a way that to some there -would have been no mistaking; but Mary, devoid of vanity, was all -unconscious of it, and, disliking to talk about herself, now talked -of other things. - -Again and again Colville thought, in her perfect sweetness, humility, -and composure, how utterly dissimilar she was in many ways from the -town-bred girls he had been wont to meet in his London life -especially, where the beautiful was so often combined with the -artificial, and even youth with utter hollowness of heart. Amid -dinners, garden-parties, the Row, and the general _rôle_ of his life -as a Guardsman, the pet of many a woman and her fair brood, all the -more that he was now the inheritor of a revenue that was great, he -had been conscious of all that. - -To Mary--who was a close observer in her way--it sometimes seemed -that there was in Captain Colville's face, when he addressed her, a -half-amused expression, mingling with much of undoubted admiration. -The first was occasionally a source of pique to her; and the other -was a source of pique, too, rather than pleasure; for, if he was the -_fiancé_ of Miss Galloway, he had no business to amuse himself with, -or bestow admiration on, any other young lady, and these ideas made -her manner to him reserved at times. - -In being assisted over an awkward stone stile, though she required no -aid, yet she was compelled to take his proffered grasp, but even then -unconsciously her - - 'Very coldness still was kind, - And tremulously gentle her small hand - Withdrew itself from his, but left behind - A little pressure, thrilling, and so bland - And slight, that to the mind 'twas but a doubt.' - - -As her slim hand was quickly withdrawn from his, and she murmured her -'thanks,' Mary's first thought was that it was cased in a somewhat -too well-worn glove, and Colville perhaps remarked this too, for he -said, - -'Do you always wear gauntlet gloves?' - -'No; but then I am so much in the garden among thorns and bushes that -ordinary gloves are useless, and I used to get through so many of six -and a quarter.' - -'Surely even that is too large for a hand like yours,' said he; and -Mary now fairly blushed at the tenor of the conversation, and when he -attempted again to take her shapely little hand in his she resolutely -withheld it, and, thinking of Blanche Galloway, said, - -'Please don't, Captain Colville; and now I must bid you farewell, -with many thanks for your escort.' - -And Colville, who was under the impression, from Blanche Galloway's -mistaken remark, that Robert Wodrow was 'the lover of the elder -sister,' thought he would not just then press his society further -upon Mary Wellwood. Nor could he have done so, for just where the -little wooded path they had been pursuing opened upon the highway, a -well-appointed little park phaeton, drawn by a pair of beautiful -ponies, and driven by Blanche Galloway, was seen drawn up under the -trees about forty yards off. - -'The time has passed so quickly when with you, Miss Wellwood,' said -Colville, lifting his hat with an air of positive confusion, 'that I -forgot--I quite forgot----' - -'What, Captain Colville?' - -'That Miss Galloway's pony carriage was to meet me here, and drive me -home. Ah, there it is----' - -'And she too, I think,' said Mary, turning, and growing pale with -absolute pain and annoyance at the whole situation; yet, after all, -there was nothing in it. However, the Honourable Blanche, after a -glance at Mary from under her tied veil, turned away also; and Mary, -with pride awakened and a sense of mortification, pursued the path to -Birkwoodbrae. - -But Jack, as if loth that the two should part, scoured backwards and -forwards between them, till, after a time, he finally followed his -mistress, and even from this, probably, Blanche angrily drew -deductions. - -We fear the captain did not enjoy much his drive home, though driven -by a Park beauty in that luxurious pony phaeton, as Blanche put her -own construction on the meeting and sudden parting--a construction -far apart from the reality. She was sorely piqued, and he was not -surprised by her taciturnity, though he strove to ignore it, and -expatiated on the beauty of the scenery, on lights and shades, tints -and effects, as if he had been a Royal Academician; nor was he -surprised when she remarked to him very pointedly and plainly in the -drawing-room after dinner, when she was idling over the piano, - -'I don't think mamma will approve much of your cultivating those -strange girls at Birkwoodbrae.' - -'I do not do so,' said he, stooping close to her pretty head; 'but -did not you and Lady Dunkeld call for them the other day?' - -'Out of curiosity--and urged, perhaps, by Dr. Wodrow, who greatly -affects to favour them.' - -'Surely this is severe?' urged Colville, gently. - -'Men, like women, cannot be too wary of chance medley acquaintances,' -persisted Blanche, cresting up her handsome head. - -'I have somewhere read,' said her mamma, who was now _au fait_ of the -whole episode, 'that men may study women as they do a barometer, but -only understand them on a subsequent day.' - -'It may be so,' said Colville, 'but what then?' - -'I agree with Blanche in her views of these Wellwood girls. People -may do much in town that they cannot do in country places, where -everyone's actions are, as it were, under a microscope; where every -trivial movement is known, freely commented upon, and often -exaggerated by menials and the vulgar. Thus,' continued Lady -Dunkeld, with a very set expression on her usually placid face, 'I am -not sure--nay, I am quite certain--it does not agree with what -society calls _les convenances_, visiting these young girls.' - -'In some respects you are right,' replied Colville, colouring with -real pain; 'but I was not visiting. I only met Miss Wellwood near -the old burying-ground--moreover, they are ladies, she and her -sister, perfect ladies!' he urged, with a gleam in his dark eyes, -which Lady Dunkeld was not slow to detect. - -'But living so eccentrically alone?' - -'So independently, let us say,' he continued. - -'Captain Colville is quite their champion,' said Blanche, with a -laugh that was not very genuine; and then the subject dropped. - -Lady Dunkeld exchanged a quick glance with her daughter, and slowly -fanned herself with an inscrutable expression on her certainly -aristocratic face, and adopting the imperturbable placidity generally -peculiar to her class and style. - -Her somewhat unmotherly and selfish views deeply pained Colville, for -reasons peculiarly his own, but had quite an opposite and most -encouraging effect upon the enterprising mind of Sleath, who had -listened in attentive silence. - -A day or two subsequently a parcel came for Mary, addressed to -Birkwoodbrae, but having with it no other clue than the vague one of -the Edinburgh postmark. It contained, for both sisters, two -beautiful boxes of gloves, all of the most delicate tints and finest -quality. Each box was a miracle of carved white Indian ivory, lined -with blue satin, a sachet of perfume on the under side of each lid, -and their initials in silver on the upper. - -Remembering what had passed at the stile, Mary Wellwood could not -doubt who the donor was, and she flushed hotly with pleasure; yet it -could all mean nothing--nothing but gallantry. - -To decline the gifts would seem churlish and ungracious. She could -not write, and resolved to wait for the first meeting with Colville -to thank him. - -Ellinor was quite in a flutter about the gifts--more so than Mary, -who really felt, after a time, some confusion and dismay, for in the -course of her simple life no such episode had occurred before; and -she was all unlike the fair Blanche, to whom boxes of gloves were as -nothing, and who could book her bets for far more than gloves on the -winner of the Oaks or the Derby with the prettiest air of _sang -froid_ in the world. - -Mary's mind became filled with pleasant dreams, that joined with -unpleasant doubts. - -Was Colville really becoming an admirer of hers; or dared he be so, -if the rumour about Blanche Galloway was true? - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -A TRUCE. - -Robert Wodrow, full of thought, pursuing his way through a green -hedge-bordered lane that led to Birkwoodbrae from the manse, suddenly -heard the shrill yelp of a dog, followed by an execration, and at a -little distance perceived Sir Robert Sleath, issuing from the garden -gate at the mansion, in the act of picking up a large stone to hurl -at Jack--Mary Wellwood's pet. Jack, by dashing through the hedge, -shirked the stone, as all wise dogs do, but if the baronet had -bestowed upon him a kick, as Robert never doubted, the terrier had -enough of the bull in his blood to remember it well, as Sleath found -to his cost when the time came. - -Closing the garden gate, he found himself face to face with young -Wodrow. He had his hat partly on the back of his head, his hands -thrust into the back pockets of his morning coat, a cigar in his -mouth, and with an _insouciant_ stare, and a species of dry nod that -was supremely insolent and infinitely worse than no recognition at -all, he passed on his way without speaking. Robert Wodrow, whose -heart was already sore enough in more ways than one, felt it swell -with passion as he entered the garden, which was still in all the -beauty of summer. - -He had lately felt in many ways that a change had come over Ellinor, -but he had been, as yet, too proud to notice it to herself. - -The baronet was shooting now every day, and Wodrow thought that, even -if Ellinor was under that person's influence, she might give him a -little more of her society, as of old--even twenty minutes; but no, -he could seldom or never see her alone; and while love and sorrow -made him humble at one time, jealousy and disappointment made him -proud and rancorous at others. - -The sweetness of his disposition had departed; his studies were -becoming confused or neglected; and none saw the change that was -coming over him with more pain and anger than his mother. - -Of all the men that had seen and admired Ellinor, his instinct told -him that this man Sleath would prove the most dangerous; yet to his -own sex the manners of the latter seemed far from winning. - -And already Elspat Gordon and other old servants, with the keen -observance and love of gossip peculiar to their class, had begun to -prognosticate a more brilliant future for Ellinor Wellwood than the -obscure career of a country doctor's wife, and saw her the lady of 'a -real live baronet,' and riding in a chariot to which that of -Cinderella was as nothing in comparison; and, as if to make the -mischief worse, rumours of _their_ surmises and of their hopes -reached somehow--but readily enough in a sequestered district--the -ears of Robert Wodrow, and were as gall and wormwood to his soul. - -All this might be mere wretched gossip; and though Ellinor might not -actually have any regard for Sir Redmond, yet Robert Wodrow feared -that somehow she was already in a dumb way yielding to or feeling his -influence and power. - -The subtle homage, the studied phraseology, and flattering air of -gallantry and devotion which Sir Redmond infused into his -conversation when alone--but only when alone--with Ellinor, had -somewhat turned the girl's little head, and led her to draw -comparisons between all that kind of thing and poor Robert Wodrow's -'use and wont' style of attention and 'matter of course' position, as -the lover of her maidenhood expanded from the playmate of her -childhood. - -Mary was away on some of her errands of mercy or work; Ellinor was -alone when Robert approached, and found her idling in the garden, -with a sunshade over her head; and his heart, of course, foreboded -that there she must have been with the obnoxious visitor who had just -departed. - -Elspat bad been brushing out her long and flowing dark brown hair, -that was so rich and heavy as to seem almost a burden to her shapely -head and slender neck; and Robert reflected savagely that thus she -must have appeared before 'that fellow.' - -She was adjusting with slender and deft little fingers, while a -sweet, soft, self-satisfied smile rippled over her face, in her lace -collarette, a tuft of stephenotis with two buds of a particular kind -of rose that Robert knew grew in the conservatory of Craigmhor alone; -and his eyes fastened angrily on them at once, though she made no -reference to them, or how they came to be there. The presence of the -personage he had just passed fully accounted for that; he had -doubtless transferred them from his own buttonhole to her hand, and -Robert knew quite enough of 'the language of the flowers' to know -what two rosebuds, so given, implied. And now her face wore--so -Robert thought--just such a smile as that of Faust's Marguerite, when -plucking the mystical rose-leaves in her garden. - -Robert felt that the gap between them was widening; he did not -present his hand, nor did she offer hers, but continued to adjust her -little bouquet, while he stood before her with his hands thrust into -the pockets of his grey morning-coat, and kicked away a pebble or two -that lay in the gravelled walk. - -'Ellinor!' - -'Well, Robert,' she replied, a little nervously; 'you have come to -tell me that you have passed, I suppose?' - -'No.' - -'Why--what then?' - -'Because I have not passed.' - -'Not passed!' said Ellinor, looking at him with genuine regret. - -'No--on the first of this month the medical degrees were conferred as -usual, but not on me--not perhaps that you care much now,' he added, -in a thickening voice. 'I shall have to try again--if, indeed, I -ever try more.' - -'Why, Robert, what has come to you that you talk to me thus? I am -most sorry for you indeed.' She looked him earnestly, but Robert -thought not honestly, in the face. - -'You are more intent on your own flirtations than my failure--a -failure perhaps caused by yourself.' - -'Who can I flirt with here?' - -'You know best,' replied Robert, sulkily. - -'Really, Robert, you are very unpleasant!' exclaimed the girl, tears -almost starting to her eyes, though there was a provoking twinkle in -their hazel depths, nevertheless. - -'Now perhaps I am; but how long do you think I am going to stand this -sort of thing?' - -'What sort of thing?' - -'The dangling after you of that English fool who has just left.' - -'This is going from bad to worse, Robert,' replied Ellinor, with a -pout on her beautiful lip. 'It is being downright rude, and national -reflections are in the worst possible taste.' - -'You have not been treating me well for some time past, Ellinor; you -seem to grudge every moment you give me, and the little time you do -spend with me, you seem no longer your old pleasant and hopeful self, -but abstracted and _distraite_.' - -'You are always worrying me,' retorted the girl, 'and hinting of -broken promises when I have never made any.' - -'Between us, they were scarcely necessary, Ellinor, and yet you have -made me scores.' - -'I--when?' - -'Since we were children.' - -'Oh--of course, when we played at being sweethearts, and all that -sort of thing.' - -'Played! It has been no child's play with me at least.' - -'Such child's play is ended now--and I won't be scolded thus.' - -She had never adopted this tone to him before, and young Wodrow was -shocked, startled, and enraged; but still he dissembled, for love -will tame and subdue the proudest heart, and his was full of great -love for the girl who now stood before him, biting her nether lip, -and shuffling the gravel with a little impatient foot. - -'Ellinor,' said Robert, yet without attempting to take her hand, 'if -you did not quite encourage my love, you permitted and adopted -it--you accepted it since we were happy little children that toddled -and played about together--and that love has gone on, growing with my -growth and strengthening with my strength; and I never dreamed of, -never thought of picturing the time when you might cast me off. And -now I never doubted that when I graduated----' - -'Oh, Robert,' interrupted the girl, nervously, 'you are too romantic; -too much of a boy----' - -'I am not a boy now, and I won't be called one! and as for a -romance--certainly you have become very matter-of-fact, when I have -heard you laugh at even a competence as not being sufficient.' - -'Shall I tell you what I think it should be?' said Ellinor, a little -defiantly. - -'Do,' he responded, gloomily. - -'I think it means a handsome house--not a cottage (love in that is -all very well, but may be apt to fly out of the windows); fine -furniture--beautiful pictures and dresses--lots of servants--a -carriage----' - -'Oh, stop, please! Since when have you found all these things -necessary for existence? Dear Ellinor, people can be very happy -together with less.' - -'Quiet as our lives have been here, Robert, poor Mary and I have -often had wrung hearts and harassed spirits to keep up an outward and -an empty show.' - -'What is enough for one, as mother often says, is enough for two.' - -'Perhaps, and perhaps not,' said Ellinor, with a waggish expression. - -Robert Wodrow did not reflect just then that erelong there might be -more mouths than two to feed. - -'And all these new views of our prospects and of life generally, have -occurred to you because----' - -'Because what?' - -'This man Sleath has come to Invermay.' - -Ellinor grew pale. There were a few moments' silence, and when -Robert Wodrow spoke again his voice sounded strange even to himself. - -'I was never half good enough for you, Ellinor--I know that,' said -he, humbly, 'yet I will never give you up until--until I hear you are -fully engaged to him.' - -'Engaged! How your tongue does run on, Robert,' replied Ellinor, -with a curious laugh. 'He has never even spoken to me in any very -pointed manner; but rather than be worried thus,' she added, with a -swelling in her slender throat, 'I must ask you to forget me--do.' - -'Men such as I am do not forget so easily, Ellinor.' The angry -colour died out of Wodrow's dark face, and, clenching his hands, he -muttered under his thick moustache--'Curse him!' - -'He would not speak thus, Robert, if it is Sir Redmond you mean. He -has seen a great deal of the best of society.' - -'And a great deal more of the worst, I suspect,' said her lover, more -exasperated by the slightest defence of his supposed rival; but, -nerving himself to be calm, he asked--'Am I, then, to suppose that -you have not promised your future--the future that I have a right to -say was not yours to assign--to this stranger--to this sudden -interloper?' - -'I have not. But why be so mysterious, tragic, and absurd, Robert?' -she exclaimed, with a little gasping laugh that nearly became a sob; -for, sooth to say, Ellinor's secret heart upbraided her, and she felt -that she was treating the lover of her girlhood and the friend of all -her years with duplicity. - -'Then,' said he, 'why do you permit attentions that are purposeless -to you, and most distasteful to me?' - -'Robert, what do you mean?' she asked, plaintively. - -'I mean, why do you permit that tawny-haired fellow to flirt with -you, and excite the comment of lookers-on?' - -'He does not flirt with me, Robert.' - -'Do you mean to say that his attentions are more serious than what is -called flirtation?' - -'I say nothing about them,' said Ellinor, annoyed and alarmed by his -vehemence and categorical questioning. - -'Ah--indeed!' he hissed through his clenched teeth. - -'I cannot prevent him saying things sometimes--without--without -making a scene. Do not be hard upon me, Robert--I do love you--I -always loved you; not perhaps as you wish--but--but----' - -She paused, sobbed, and laid her sweet face upon his arm, which went -caressingly round her bent and beautiful head, with all its wealth of -dark brown flowing hair. - -'You love me!' he whispered, softly. - -'As an old friend--oh, yes.' - -He withdrew, and again eyed her gloomily and silently. - -'Advise me, Robert,' said she, imploringly. - -'In what can I advise you, if your own heart does not?' - -'We are both so miserably poor.' - -'And your new admirer is so rich?' - -They were drifting among shoals again, so Ellinor made no reply. - -'I suppose he loves you? To judge by my own heart, Ellinor, I don't -wonder at it--but if so, why does he not at once come to the point -and end his dangling? Why delay, and why conceal?' - -'Do not let us quarrel, Robert,' said the girl, gently and sweetly, -with her soft hazel eyes full of unshed tears; 'we have always been -such chums--such friends. Some one is coming--kiss me once more--and -kiss me quickly!' - -A light step was heard on the ground near the garden gate, and the -welcoming bark of Jack announced it was that of Mary returning. - -The mutual kiss was swiftly given and taken; but to neither did it -seem like the kisses of old. - -Robert Wodrow felt that it sealed only a truce between him and -Ellinor Wellwood; that neither were happy now, and that her heart was -drifting away from him. Their farewell seemed to be like the summary -of Lord Lytton's advice, - - 'In short, my deary, kiss me and be quiet.' - - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -COLVILLE'S WARNING. - -Despite the disparaging remarks or comments so ungenerously made by -Lady Dunkeld and her daughter, a subsequent afternoon saw both Sir -Redmond Sleath and Leslie Colville seated in the pretty drawing-room -of the sisters at Birkwoodbrae. - -Sir Redmond had inadvertently dropped a hint that he meant to visit -there, and, greatly to his annoyance, Colville proposed to accompany -him. - -It was an early day in August, and every breath of air was still; not -a leaf was stirring in the silver birches without, or among the -monthly roses that clambered round the open windows which faced the -pretty garden. Within the room all was arranged with care and taste, -while the polished grate, filled with fresh flowers, the bouquets in -jars and vases, the snow-white curtains, and other etcetera bore -token of feminine diligence and skill. - -Stretched on a deer-skin, Jack lay with sleepy eyes, half open to -watch the movements of his mistress, when 'visitors' were announced -by Elspat, with a peculiar and provoking smirk of satisfaction on her -hard Scotch visage, and the costumes for the forthcoming -garden-party, on which those clever fingers of the sisters were busy, -were hastily tossed aside; the two gentlemen were ushered in, and -Jack snarled and barked so furiously at Sir Redmond that he had to be -carried bodily out of the room by Elspat. - -The baronet affected to laugh, but felt in his heart that nothing -would please him better than to get 'a quiet pot-shot at that d----d -cur!' - -'We merely dropped in when passing,' said Sir Redmond, who, strange -to say, seemed to be constrained, even awkward, in manner, and -Ellinor was somewhat silent and abashed too. - -'It is kind of you to visit us,' replied Mary, addressing herself, -however, to Colville; 'we have so little amusement to offer; there is -so little attraction; we live so quietly here at Birkwoodbrae.' - -Colville looked as if he thought there was a good deal to attract, -and his dark eyes seemed to say so as he looked into Mary's, which -drooped beneath his gaze. - -'Your presents came, Captain Colville. They are beautiful, and fit -to perfection. Ellinor and I cannot sufficiently thank you,' she -said, in a low voice. - -'Oho!' thought Sir Redmond, 'he has been sending them presents. Eh! -a sly dog.' - -'A few gloves are not worth mentioning,' replied Colville, hurriedly. -And then he added--'How beautiful is the view all round this place, -especially that with the silver birches and the stream glittering -under their shadow. Ere I leave this, Miss Wellwood, you must show -me some of your favourite places, your pet nooks--the scenery here is -so full of picturesque spots.' - -'Ellinor knows all such places hereabout better than I do. They -employ her pencil freely,' said Mary, diffidently; 'and they are the -very abode of old legends, fairies, and so forth.' - -'I know that she is an artist possessed of both taste and skill,' -said Colville; 'but is she also the musician?' he asked, turning to -the piano, which was open. - -'I am chiefly,' replied Mary, smiling; 'but I think you should hear -Ellinor sing the "Birks of Invermay."' - -'Who--or what are they?' asked Sir Redmond, with a drawl. - -'Those very birches you see from the window,' replied Mary, laughing. - -'And there is a song about them?' - -'There are several.' - -'Do let us hear at least one, Miss Ellinor,' urged Sir Redmond, as he -placed the piano stool before the instrument. - -Accordingly Ellinor, without further preface or pressing, seated -herself, and sang with great sweetness and pathos neither David -Mallet's affected stanzas nor Bryce's ludicrous lines, but the simple -old song of the sixteenth century to its wonderfully beautiful air:-- - - 'The evening sun was glinting bright - On Invermay's sweet glen and stream; - The woods and rocks in ruddy light - Appeared as in a fairy dream. - In loving fear I took my path - To seek the tryst that happy day, - With bonnie Mary, young and fair, - Among the Birks of Invermay. - - 'It wasna till the pale moonshine - Was glancing deep in Mary's e'e, - That with a smile she said, "I'm thine, - And ever true to thee will be!" - One kiss--the lover's pledge--and then - We spoke of all that lovers say, - And wandered hameward through the glen, - Among the Birks of Invermay.' - - -At the mention of Mary's name in the song, the eyes of Colville -involuntarily sought those of her who bore it, and she coloured -perceptibly. The performance of Ellinor was duly applauded by Sir -Redmond, though he afterwards confided to Colville it was 'the -silliest piece of Scotch twaddle' he had ever heard. Yet his -admiration of Ellinor personally was open and unconcealed, perhaps -too much so, and of its own kind was no doubt genuine enough, and -while she sang, Ellinor was inwardly hoping her hair was tidy and -looked well, as she felt conscious he was gazing straight down on it; -while Mary had an uncomfortable feeling that visits from these -gentlemen might be misconstrued by Lady Dunkeld, their hostess, and -still more so by her daughter--a conviction that at times made her -almost cold in her manner to Captain Colville, whom she believed to -be that young lady's especial property. And she blamed herself, and -blushed for herself, in the consciousness that she sometimes -treasured up, and repeated to herself, little things he had -said--appeals to her taste, her opinion, and so forth. While -Colville, however he was situated with regard to Miss Galloway, made -no secret of how he delighted in the quaint frankness of Mary -Wellwood since the afternoon he had first met her, when both were -fishing in the May. - -'And so this locality is full of old legends of fairies and so -forth?' said Colville, referring to a previous remark of Mary's. - -'Yes; but then every foot of ground in Scotland has about it -something historical or legendary--all teems with the past.' - -'The present is more to my taste, Miss Wellwood,' said Sleath, -twirling out his straw-coloured moustache. - -'It would not be so if you lived always, as we do, under the shadow -of the Ochil mountains.' - -'I agree with you, by Jove.' - -But Mary did not perceive that they misunderstood each other. - -'Sir Redmond is guiltless of romance as any man living, I believe, -Miss Wellwood,' said Captain Colville, 'but London life makes one -sadly prosaic and incredulous.' - -'Has it made you so?' - -'I hope not--I can scarcely say. But did not my old friend Dr. -Wodrow hint that some old legend is connected with those stones, or -the ruin, on yonder knoll by the river?' - -'The Holy Hill?' - -'Yes.' - -'Ah,' said Mary, as a smile rippled over her bright face, 'that is -not a legend--it is history.' - -'About what?' - -'A miller's daughter who married a king.' - -'Then it is a tale of the days - - "When King Cophetua loved the beggar maid."' - - -'Something of that kind. But in the remoter ages of Scottish history -the Holy Hill was the site of a royal residence; for there King -Kenneth II. died, and there Malcolm III. was born--he who married -Margaret of England.' - -'These things didn't happen yesterday,' said Colville, smiling down -into her earnest and animated face. - -'In those days there was an old miller here in Forteviot who had one -daughter named Edana, a girl of rare beauty, and who was famed -therefor throughout all the land between the Earn and Forth.' - -'And, of course, she had lovers in plenty?' - -'So the story says; but she would listen to none, nor was her heart -stirred, till one morning, about Beltane time, when filling a jar -with water at the May, there came riding under the silver -birches--for silver birches were here then as now--a marvellously -handsome young knight on a white horse, alone and unattended, and -courteously he besought her for a draught of water, saying that he -had ridden that morning from the Moathill of Scone, and was sorely -athirst. - -'He wore an eagle's feather in his helmet, from under which his -golden hair fell upon his shoulders like that of a girl. His mantle -of striped scarlet, violet, and blue was fastened on his breast by a -brooch of gold, and the rings of his coat-of-mail shone like silver -in the morning sun. - -'Edana had never looked on such a face and figure before, and he -seemed equally taken by her great, if rustic, loveliness. He -lingered with her long in the birchen wood; thither he came again and -again, and love between them ripened fast, as it seems always to have -done in the olden time, if we are to believe song, ballad, and story. - -'The miller ere long heard of these stolen meetings, and his heart -filled with alarm lest the so-called handsome stranger who had -bewitched or won his daughter's heart might prove some evil spirit of -the Flood or Fell; but Edana said he could be no evil spirit who wore -a crucifix round his neck, and daily said his prayers in the old -chapel of Kirktoun Mailler. - -'But the miller uttered an execration under his silver beard, put his -battle-axe to the grindstone, and kept watch when next the young -knight came; and then, behold, his heart seemed to die within him as -he recognised--the king! - -'And so in time it quickly came to pass that Edana became the wife of -Duncan, King of Scotland--the same king who was slain at Cawdor--and -the mother of Malcolm III., who was born at the Holy Hill, and hence -an ancestress of Queen Victoria.' - -With a soft yet strange smile on his face, Colville listened to this -old story, and, brief though it was, Sleath, as it was not to his -taste, would have yawned, had not good breeding forbade him. - -'Perhaps love and romance, too, still linger among the Birks of -Invermay,' said he, laughingly, and with some point in his manner; -and there came a time when Mary recalled these words and saw their -meaning; and now, deeming that their visit had been protracted long -enough, the gentlemen rose to depart--Sleath only lingering to kiss -his hand to Ellinor--surreptitiously, as he thought, but the jaunty -action was detected by Colville. - -Somehow, Mary thought she wished that Captain Colville--Miss Blanche -Galloway's _fiancé_--had not called that afternoon; yet, if asked, -she could not have told the reason why. - -Was an interest in him growing in her heart unknown to herself--one -beyond the wish that she and Ellinor had such a brother? It almost -seemed so, for she felt altered in some way, but in what way she knew -not, though the present and the future became curiously mingled in -her thoughts, as they were just then in those of Ellinor. - -Sleath was fast winning the fancy of the latter, if not her heart. -She had been content with the love of Robert Wodrow and the prospect -of a future with him; she thought now how different it would be to -become the wife of a man who would give her rank, position, wealth, -and she thought the time and 'the prince' had now come. Yet with all -this it was strange that her heart never thrilled at his voice or -approach, nor did her pulses quicken at the touch of his hand, as -they had often done at the honest clasp of Robert Wodrow. - -'Why was this?' she asked of herself. - -'You are very silent, Colville,' observed Sleath, as they walked -homeward together cigar in mouth. - -'There is something in that girl's face which seems familiar to me, -as if I had foreshadowed it in some dream!' exclaimed Colville. - -'_Which_ girl's face?' asked Sleath, sharply. - -'Mary's--Miss Wellwood,' replied Colville, colouring with annoyance -at having been betrayed into confidence with a man he disliked. - -'Stuff,' said Sir Redmond; 'as if people foreshadowed faces in the -Row or Regent Street! What would the fair Blanche think of this -idea? And what a cock-and-bull yarn that was about the "gracious -Duncan" and the miller's daughter.' - -'Why doubt it?--the story is a pretty one, any way,' said Colville, -with annoyance in his tone. - -'Let us skip Mary--it is her sister I admire.' - -'Your demeanour to that young lady is rather strange, Sir Redmond,' -said Colville, with a gravity of manner and eye that did not fail to -strike his listener. - -'Strange--how?' - -'A very short intimacy seems to have placed you on rather friendly -terms.' - -'Rather,' replied Sir Redmond, tugging at the end of his moustachios, -with a very self-satisfied smile on his _blasé_ face. 'She is an -unsophisticated kind of Jeanie Deans, or Effie rather, whom one may -flirt with, patronise, or quarrel with and make it up again; treating -her with any amount of chic when so inclined, and----' - -Whatever in his profound vanity or spirit of insolence Sir Redmond -was about to add, he paused. There was a dark, stern, and indignant -expression in the face of Leslie Colville that there was no -misunderstanding just then. - -'Hey--how--what the deyvil--are you smitten in that quarter too?' -asked Sleath. - -'No--what do you mean?' - -'Thought you were, perhaps, that's all,' was the somewhat sulky -response. - -'I am not what you think,' replied Colville, quietly. 'I only warn -you to adopt a different tone in reference to these young ladies, and -to take care what you are about!' - -'Now, what the devil is all this to _him_?' thought the baronet, -malevolently; and he had hardihood enough to give his thought -expression, on which Colville's face grew darker still. - -'Sir Redmond,' said he, 'there is no use in beating about the bush -with you. I have often heard you say that there was but one excuse -in this world for matrimony.' - -'Yes--well?' - -'Miss Ellinor Wellwood is poor, as you may say, yet you seem very -attentive in that quarter.' - -Confounded at what he deemed the presumption of all these queries, -Sleath stuck his glass into his right eye, and glared through it at -his companion with undoubted surprise. - -'Attention,' he muttered; 'not at all! Who is thinking of matrimony? -And if I were so, may I ask what it is to _you_?' - -'More than you think,' replied Colville, with suppressed passion, as -he adjusted his shirt cuffs; 'but enough of this subject--here is the -gate of Craigmhor.' - -Colville said no more; but he thought a good deal, and he muttered to -himself a Spanish proverb, - -'_Puerto abierta, al santo tiento_--the open door tempts the saint; -and, by Jove, this fellow is no saint--so I shall keep my eye on him!' - -Hitherto it had seemed to Ellinor, but to Mary chiefly (as she had no -special admirer), that life had been dull and colourless--if a happy -and contented one--at Birkwoodbrae; and already the days -thereof--before these visitors came--seemed to be part of another and -remoter existence; for love and the illusions of love were shedding -their haloes over the present. - -'I hope dear Mary Wellwood will not make a fool of herself with that -Captain Colville,' said Mrs. Wodrow to her spouse, with reference to -this very subject. 'I hear that he has been calling at Birkwoodbrae -again, though engaged, they say, to Miss Galloway. She is old enough -to know that officers are the greatest flirts in the world--men not -to be trusted. When _I_ was a girl, I always heard so.' - -Dr. Wodrow laughed softly, as he looked up from the notes of his next -sermon, and said, - -'I don't think, my dear, you ever had much experience of them out of -novels; but I will own to you that officers now-a-days are not like -what they were at one time. Even my worthy ancestor, in 1724, -deplores in his 'Analecta' that Christian officers had left no -successors to such men as Colonel Blackadder, of the Cameronians, -Colonel Erskine, and Major Gardiner, of Stair's Grey Dragoons--all -men who could expound on the Gospel better than I.' - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -THE GARDEN-PARTY AT CRAIGMHOR. - -It was the afternoon of a hot day early in August, when the sunlight -bathed in glory all the scenery--green mountain and rocky glen, wood -and water--about Craigmhor, giving alternately strong light and deep -shadow, with a warmth of colouring over all, turning into a sheet -like molten gold an artificial lochlet, where the ducks and coots -swam together among the great white water-lilies. - -On the balustraded terrace before the house, the rustic baskets of -carved stone were ablaze with beautiful flowers; the hum of bees and -the twitter of birds were all about, but were unheard amid the buzz -of many voices and the music of a rifle volunteer band that played on -the smoothly-mown lawn that stretched away before the house till it -ended in the woodland greenery of the park, or 'policy,' as it is -called in Scotland--greenery that now showed blotches of yellow and -russet upon the ferns, that whilom had seemed great green fans of -emerald hue, amid which the dun deer rested when dewy evening fell. - -But now the deer had all gone to the hill-sides, for promenading on -the lawn and in the beautiful gardens, or seated near the tall, -French windows that opened on the terrace, and the lace curtains of -which were wafted gently on the breeze, were the many guests of Lady -Dunkeld, whose garden-party was now, as Sir Redmond Sleath slangily -said, 'in full blast.' - -Mellowed by distance among the trees came the murmur of the unseen -May over its rocky bed. - -There were lawn-tennis courts, and the all but obsolete croquet, for -those who were so minded; and in a gaudy-striped marquee ices, -creams, jellies, champagne-cup, et cetera, distributed by solemn -valets in showy liveries with powdered heads. - -There were winding paths between beautifully-trimmed shrubberies, -bordered by flowers of gorgeous hues; there were leafy, tunnel-like -vistas, and long and stately conservatories with tesselated floors, -wherein to flirt when the heat of the day proved too great; and there -were bright-coloured rugs and soft cushions spread upon the grass, -whereon the lazy might lounge or loll; and, as the guests were -pouring in from carriage, phaeton, and dogcart, Lady Dunkeld, in the -richest of London toilettes, received them with the same insipid and -stereotyped smile for each and all--her words of welcome or offer of -her hand varying only according to the social position of those who -approached her. - -'The second of the Wellwood girls who are coming here to-day is -something of an artist, I hear,' observed Lord Dunkeld. - -'I believe so,' replied his lady; 'and I hope she will not make her -appearance a limp figure, æsthetically-dressed in a large-patterned -gown of Anglo-Saxon fashion, with a lily in her hand. Oh, here they -are! Dressed in the best taste, too!' - -Weak, yet aristocratic though his profile, Lord Dunkeld looked every -inch a peer in style and bearing. He was undoubtedly a -striking-looking, elderly man, with hair now white as the -thistledown, his person erect and unbroken as when he led his -battalion against the Russian trenches at Sebastopol, and he received -the two sisters, Mary and Ellinor Wellwood, with a warmth and -courtesy that nearly made them forget the limp hand and wan smile of -Lady Dunkeld, and the ill-concealed coldness, annoyance, and secret -pique of Blanche Galloway, though she veiled them under a well-bred -smile of welcome, while resolved it should be their last, as it was -their first, entertainment at Craigmhor, and such it eventually -proved to be. - -Nor were her emotions lessened by seeing how Colville hurriedly -quitted a group to welcome them, and how smilingly Sir Redmond -approached Ellinor from a conservatory, adjusting as he came a -button-hole bouquet which he had recently received from the hand of -her--Blanche Galloway, who was quite inclined to attract both -gentlemen if she could. - -Whatever views Lady Dunkeld and her daughter, the fair Blanche, may -have had in the matter of the now wealthy Captain Colville and Sir -Redmond Sleath, two little episodes in which these gentlemen were -concerned developed themselves during the garden-party, which were -rather beyond the calculations of the two ladies, and proceeded to -some extent unknown to them--but to some extent only, as Mademoiselle -Rosette was abroad in the grounds, and had her shrewd French eyes -remarkably wide open. - -And Blanche Galloway became disagreeably surprised when she learned -on what 'friendly terms' the sisters were with those two gentlemen, -who as visitors at Craigmhor she had rather been disposed to consider -as her own peculiar property. - -Robert Wodrow was there too, not to enjoy himself, but to watch Sir -Redmond and Ellinor, as the latter could read only too distinctly in -his lowering and upbraiding yet tender eyes, though he affected to -converse gaily with Colville and others. - -'Let me get you some iced champagne cup,' said Sir Redmond, in a low -voice, as he offered Ellinor his arm and led her away, adding, with -one of his unpleasant laughs, 'Here is old Dr. Wodrow, with his -Sabbath-day smile, and his wife, in her awful toilette--our sulking -friend the son too. They have been among the first to come, and will -be the last to go away--like all stupid people. How like fish out of -the water they look!' - -Ellinor, to do her justice, felt a swelling in her throat at these -remarks on those she had been so long accustomed to view as her -dearest friends, and fanned herself almost angrily. - -'And how is Jack, that surliest of curs, who always snaps and snarls -at me as if I were a tramp or a beggar?' asked Sir Redmond. - -Ellinor laughed now, and soon found herself chatting away with the -glib Sir Redmond as if she had known him not only a few days, but a -few years. How different he was in his fluency of speech, his -perfect tone of manner and softness of voice, from Robert Wodrow. - -Poor Robert Wodrow! - -'What smooth tongues these southron fellows have,' he was thinking, -savagely, as his eyes followed the pair; 'and how she seems to listen -to him, drinking in every word, like a moonstruck fool!' - -And already he felt all the tortures of jealousy, 'the injured -lover's hell.' - -A suspicion that he was watched or suspected by Colville, after the -latter's very distinct and open warning, inspired Sir Redmond Sleath -with a secret emotion of revenge against him--a curiously mingled -hatred and desire to triumph in his love affair with Ellinor; and -since that warning had been given a coolness had ensued between the -baronet and the guardsman--a coolness that outlasted their visit to -Lord Dunkeld. - -To Sir Redmond it seemed, as he thought over and over again, that a -couple of fatherless and motherless girls living as they curiously -did together, and alone 'with no one to look after them but an -infernal old pump of a Presbyterian parson,' were fair game to be run -after in his own fashion, and Ellinor, as the one possessing less -firmness of purpose, was certain to be the most easily netted. - -As Sir Redmond led Ellinor away, Colville's brow grew dark as that of -Robert Wodrow, and the baronet was not slow to detect this emotion -and defy it. - -'Was this jealousy and love of Ellinor? Did he admire her and Mary -too?' thought the baronet. 'By Jove, it seems so.' - -They were long absent from the main body of the guests, none of whom -missed them perhaps, save Robert Wodrow and Miss Galloway. How long -Colville did not precisely know, as he contrived to be elsewhere -engaged himself. - -While Mary was talking to old Mrs. Wodrow, who was indulging the -while in a few peculiar and not very well-bred, if knowing, nods and -smiles in the direction of Miss Galloway, over whose chair on the -terrace Captain Colville was stooping, she overheard him say, while -the former was prettily making up for him a button-hole of -stephenotis, with a white rosebud and maiden-hair fern--and say--with -_empressement_ but laughingly, - - 'If lusty love should go in search of beauty, - Where should he find it fairer than in Blanche? - If zealous love should go in quest of virtue, - Where should he find it purer than in Blanche? - If love, ambitious, sought a match of birth, - Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanche?' - - -He was only quoting Shakespeare, and did so laughingly, and not at -all with the tenderness of love, Mary thought; but Blanche Galloway -was evidently delighted, tapped him with her fan in mock anger, and -then adjusted her bouquet in his lapelle. - -On _what_ terms were they, these two? - -Mrs. Wodrow had evidently no doubt about it, as she whispered to Mary, - -'How sweet it is to watch young lovers! I was right, you see.' - -Mary felt something closely akin to pique and pain, and resolved to -be upon her guard, while Mrs. Wodrow was, woman-like, appraising the -cost of Lady Dunkeld's dress--'The best Lyons purple--must have cost -a guinea a yard.' - -'Captain Colville has been in love, or fancied himself so, a great -many times, I hear,' resumed gossipy Mrs. Wodrow, 'but never got the -length of being engaged until lately, I believe.' - -'Then he _is_ her _fiancé_,' thought Mary; 'but what matters it?' - -Sooth to say, it was for her behoof, perhaps, that Mrs. Wodrow -pressed these hints upon her. - -'Come with me, Miss Wellwood,' said Captain Colville, suddenly -approaching her; 'permit me to show you some of the Grounds--the -rosaries are indeed beautiful--after we have visited the refreshment -marquee.' - -He lightly touched her hand, and--followed the while by a somewhat -cloudy and inquiring glance from Blanche Galloway--she permitted -herself to be led away from the terrace, and though resolved to be, -as we have said, on her guard, and studiously indifferent, she could -not help the increased beating of her heart, for the voice and eyes -of Colville were very winning. - -From the refreshment marquee they wandered through the rosaries, -round the shrubbery, and past the artificial pond, till they reached -the skirts of the lawn, and the hum of the voices there, and even the -music of the band, became faint, and conversing with her, she -scarcely knew on what, he led her to a seat--a rustic sofa--under the -trees that formed the boundary of the pleasure-grounds. - -'Do you know that in the sunshine your hair is quite like gold, Miss -Wellwood?' said he, gazing upon her with unmistakable admiration. - -'I would it were real gold,' replied Mary, laughing. - -'I would rather possess it as it is, and so would any man,' said -Colville, while Mary cast a restless glance at the distant groups of -gaily-dressed promenaders, as aught approaching tenderness just then -alarmed and annoyed her. - -After a pause he said, - -'Those scarlet berries do not become your complexion. They are -suited to a dark beauty, not a fair one.' - -'Ellinor pinned them in my collarette,' replied Mary, colouring now. - -'Give me the berries, and I shall substitute _this_,' he urged, -taking the little bouquet of stephenotis buds and ferns from his -lapelle. 'Do exchange with me,' he added, softly and tenderly. - -'But Miss Galloway--her gift to you--what will she think?' urged -Mary, timidly. - -'She will never notice the change; and if she does, what then?' - -Mary thought this strange and ungallant, but ere she could prevent -him, his deft hands had quickly achieved the exchange, and her -scarlet berries were in his button-hole. - -'I cannot have you wear these, even if I wear your rosebuds. Give -them back to me, please, Captain Colville.' - -And she stretched out her hand imploringly, but he shook his head and -smiled with a curious satisfied smile; and again Mary insisted on a -re-exchange of the flowers. - -'Please, do not urge me,' said he, also adopting an imploring tone. -'I wish to keep them--to keep them for ever, if you will permit me; -whatever has touched your cheek--your hand, must be sacred to me,' he -added, with perfect earnestness of manner. - -'Do not talk to me thus--for your own amusement, Captain Colville,' -said Mary, her eyes suffused with tears. - -'Amusement!' he repeated, with a low tone of pain. 'Can you think so -meanly of me? If you knew the genuine emotion of my heart towards -you, Mary Wellwood, and the true regard with which you have inspired -me----' - -'I cannot, must not, listen to this,' said poor Mary, attempting to -rise in alarm, and most loth to precipitate a scene, but a touch of -his hand restrained her. - -'Not listen to me! And why not?' asked Colville; and then he -remembered Blanche Galloway's insinuation about young Wodrow, and -paused. - -'It is unbecoming your position and mine, I feel that you are but -amusing yourself with me,' continued Mary, repressing a sob in her -slender white throat with difficulty. 'You are a rich man of -fashion--a man about town, I believe the term is; I am but the orphan -daughter of a very poor one----' - -'Of a gallant old officer,' said Colville, softly. - -'True.' - -'And you actually think me a snob? It is very hard. Ere long I -shall get another to plead for me,' he added, laughing. - -'What can he mean?' thought Mary. - -'You pardon me just now,' said he, looking down upon her with great -tenderness. - -'Yes,' said Mary, sweetly and simply; 'but do not offend me again.' - -And bright though the sunny landscape around her, it seemed for a -moment to grow brighter to her eyes, and her pulses quickened, for -she felt a thrill at the tone of his voice and the expression of his -eyes. She felt too, somehow, as if the world would never seem quite -the same to her afterwards; and with this was blended an emotion of -pain that these feelings were excited in her breast aimlessly and -uselessly by the affianced of another! - -It was almost a relief to her when he laughed, and, breaking the -silence of a full minute or so, said, - -'Now, I am about to rival your sister, Miss Ellinor, in the -achievement of something artistic,' and, opening a pocket-knife, he -proceeded to carve on the fine smooth bark of a tree that -overshadowed the rustic sofa the letters 'M.W.' - -'My initials,' said Mary, watching his work. - -'Yes.' - -'I don't think Lord Dunkeld will thank you for injuring his timber -thus.' - -'I don't care about Dunkeld's timber. I've a good mind to be like -that fellow in Shakespeare--what's his name?--Orlando, and - - "Carve on every tree - The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she." - -Queer phrase that--means inexpressible, I suppose. See!' he added, -as he quickly cut three other initials beside Mary's--L.W.C.--and the -date. - -'Please, don't--please, don't,' urged Mary, almost with tears in her -tremulous tones. - -'Why?' he asked, looking down upon her with a bright and winning -smile. - -'These initials may be seen.' - -'By whom--and what then?' - -Mary was silent, but thought only of Miss Galloway, though that young -lady seldom favoured the woods with her society; and now Colville -completed his work with a most orthodox true lovers' knot, Mary -growing more and more appalled as it proceeded. - -'You have a middle name?' she asked, timidly. - -'Every fellow has now-a-days--snobbish, isn't it? In my case I -cannot help it.' - -'And the middle name?' - -'Don't ask it--you know me but as Leslie Colville, and that is my -genuine baptismal appelation.' - -'This bit of wood engraving may be deuced unfair to _her_ if young -Wodrow sees it,' was the not ungenerous thought of Leslie Colville. - -'What if Blanche sees it?' was the timid reflection of Mary; thus, -mentally, these two were at cross-purposes. 'Do restore to me or -cast away that bunch of berries,' she again said to him. - -'I cannot think of it; but I shall conceal it, if you will permit -me,' said he, as he kissed her little bouquet, and placed it in his -breast-pocket. - -His tenderness seemed very true, but might be--nay, Mary thought, -must be--mere flirtation. He had said, 'Ere long I shall get another -to plead for me.' Who was that _other_; and to plead for _what_? - -It was all very mysterious, and for a moment or two Mary felt as one -in a dream. Under the old trees where they lingered were cool and -grateful shadows, and on the soft breeze from the gardens and -shrubberies came the perfume of roses and heliotrope, with the drowsy -hum of modulated voices and the music of the band. - -'Listen,' said he, touching her hand lightly, while his features -brightened; 'do you hear the sweet low air?' - -'It is "The Birks of Invermay."' - -'How it brings the words of the sweet song back to me-- - - "It wasna till the pale moonshine - Was glancing deep in Mary's e'e; - That with a smile she said 'I'm thine,' - And ever true to thee will be!" - -You see how it and the name have impressed me.' - -'Don't, please, Captain Colville,' said Mary, withdrawing her hand; -'you should not go on this way. It is not honourable in you, and is -annoying to me.' - -'What a puzzle you are!' said he, looking at her with undisguised -admiration, mingled with--to her annoyance--the slightest _soupçon_ -of amusement in his handsome eyes, as she proceeded slowly across the -lawn to rejoin the garden-party, from which Mary felt he had -purposely lured her. - -Meanwhile, he was closely scrutinising the soft and downcast face of -Mary--downcast because she was too conscious of the fervour of his -regard. - -With all her beauty, Mary Wellwood had not yet had a lover. No man -had addressed her in terms of admiration or love, and this fact, -together with the somewhat secluded life she led, made the (perhaps -passing) attentions of Colville of more importance than they would -have seemed to a young lady living in the world like Miss Galloway, -and, if the gallant Guardsman was only amusing himself, it was rather -cruel of him; so Mary's emotions were of a somewhat mixed nature. - -Could she but fashion her little tell-tale face for a brief period, -and make it stony as that of a sphinx! - -A curious sense of wrong, of deception--even probable sorrow and -affront, possessed her, mingled with that of a new and timid delight. - -The touch of his hand seemed to magnetise her, and yet she longed to -get away from the reach of his eyes, his subtle and detaining voice, -for were they not the property of Blanche Galloway! - -'Why should he wrong her and love me, as I actually think he does?' -surmised Mary. 'What can I be to him more than a flower perhaps by -his wayside of life, to be passed and forgotten when he goes back to -that gay world which is peculiarly his--the great whirling world of -"Society." Worthy of him; I so poor can never hope to be, and that -proud, imperious girl would soon teach him to forget me!' - -So thought and mused the girl--fondly, sadly, and bitterly--and -turning from the music of the band, and the gay groups that laughed -and chatted around her, she gazed down a vista of silver birches that -led towards the house, and saw their stems glittering like silver -columns in the flecks of sunshine. - -Blanche Galloway was not long in discovering that the little bouquet -her own hands had assorted for Colville was now in the breast of Mary -Wellwood's dress, and as she turned bluntly away from the latter, Dr. -Wodrow, who knew not the cause thereof, remarked to his better-half -that their young hostess had given Mary 'a dark look--such a look as -Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite, might have given.' - -Leslie Colville too ere long detected dark looks in the face of -Robert Wodrow, who abruptly took his departure; and the former felt -piqued and annoyed to find himself, as he believed, the rival of a -mere 'bumpkin,' all unaware that Ellinor was the cause of Robert's -wrath; and meanwhile where was that young lady? - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -IN THE CONSERVATORY. - -In an atmosphere of drooping acacias, little palms, curious ferns, -cacti, and other exotics in tubs and pots, where the light was -subdued by the greenery overhead and around, and where the plashing -of a beautiful bronze fountain alone broke the stillness, for in the -nook of that great conservatory to which Sir Redmond Sleath had -successfully drawn Ellinor alone, the music of the band and the merry -voices of the garden party were scarcely heard, they were seated -together on a blue velvet lounge; and he, having possessed himself of -her fan, was slowly fanning her, while he hung admiringly over her--a -process to which she submitted with a soft, dreamy smile in her -speaking hazel eyes; while with every motion of the fan the ripples -of her fine dark hair were blown slightly to and fro. - -Certainly a short intimacy had put these two on terms of familiarity, -for he said, as he ceased to fan her, and settled down on the lounge -by her side, with one arm, casually, as it were, thrown along the -back thereof, - -'I am not a stranger to you now.' - -His voice was pleasantly modulated as he stooped over her, and looked -down on her drooping eyelashes. - -'Oh, no--not now,' replied Ellinor. - -'I am so happy to hear you admit this.' - -'Why?' - -Ellinor felt her question to be foolish, as it was a leading one. - -'Can you ask me?' said Sir Redmond, in a still lower voice, and -venturing; to touch--just to pat--her hand; 'there are many persons -whom we may know for years, and yet find them somehow strangers, but -it is not so with you and I.' - -He now took her hand in his, and saw that it was delicately -white--for she had drawn a glove off--and felt soft as velvet; he -saw, too, that her white-veined eyelids with their long lashes -drooped under his earnest gaze, and that her red lips quivered. Was -he actually influencing her already? He could scarcely believe it, -even with all his unparalleled assurance. - -She glanced nervously round her. - -'Do not be alarmed, dear girl--darling Ellinor, let me say,' -whispered Sleath, in his most honeyed accents, for who was to call -him to account for his impertinence, if impertinence it really was? -'I shall be content to wait--to wait and win your love, if you will -but let me hope. Some day--say one day you will listen to me, and I -shall tell you more freely, more boldly how I love you--how I shall -make you my own!' - -Ellinor trembled as she listened to these stilted phrases that came -so glibly from his tongue--how often he had said them to others she -little knew; and--even Robert Wodrow apart--she had never played with -a man's heart as Sleath was now playing with hers. - -He said much more, running on in the same inflated style, feeling -quite a zest in the, to him, well-nigh worn-out game of love-making; -and Ellinor listened. She was far from being a fool, yet she failed -to realise that his tones were very second-hand indeed, and that the -real expression of his blue eyes, if triumphant, was also false. - -Her voice trembled so that she made no response, and the flowers in -the breast of her dress rose and fell with the quickened beating of -her fluttered and, we are sorry to say, happy heart. - -A conviction troubled her, nevertheless, and would not be put -aside--that he would master her and compel her to love him blindly by -the mere force of his--practised--will, and she strove to resist it. - -'You are over-confident, though flattering me, Sir Redmond,' said -she, a little defiantly at last. - -'And what does that prove?' - -'That you are not, perhaps, what you really profess to be--in love.' - -'With you?' - -'Yes,' she replied, in a breathless voice. - -'Have you ere this learned what love is?' - -'I know what it should be like--timid and diffident,' she replied, -uneasily, as her thoughts flashed sorrowfully to poor studious Robert -Wodrow. - -'You fear I do not love you?' he asked, reproachfully. - -'I do not fear it.' - -'Look into my eyes.' - -She did look, and her own lowered, for she saw that which so often -passes for love with the unthinking or unwary--deep and burning -passion; and again she glanced nervously around her, but felt -impelled to remain where she was. Sir Redmond detected the motion, -and, misconstruing it, said, with a contemptuous smile that was too -subtle for her to perceive, - -'You and that--a--Mr. Robert Wodrow were sweethearts, as it is -called, when you were children, I have heard.' - -'Indeed!' - -'Well?' - -'The very reason, if true, that we should wish to be no more to each -other,' replied Ellinor, with some annoyance, remembering certain -angry and bitter speeches of Robert's when last they met and parted, -and some of his dark looks within the last hour. - -Sir Redmond was radiant at this response. She drew on her gloves, -and was about to rise, when he detained her, and, drawing her -suddenly towards him, boldly kissed her, not once, but twice! - -She grew very pale, and drew back, and felt as if about to weep. - -'Why do you shrink from me, Ellinor?' he asked, with tenderness, -while detaining her hands. - -'I do not shrink; but--but all this has been so sudden.' - -'Listen to me, dearest--dearest Ellinor. With all your artistic -tastes, you must of course appreciate pretty things?' - -'I do,' she replied, tremblingly, not knowing what was coming next. - -'Do you admire this?' he asked, drawing from a pocket and unclasping -a scarlet morocco case, on the blue satin lining of which there -reposed a necklace of virgin gold, with a locket attached, studded -with coral and diamonds, both miracles of the jeweller's art. - -'It is lovely!' exclaimed the girl. - -'I am glad you like it, for it is yours.' - -'Mine!' said the girl, in a breathless voice, as she felt herself -grow pale, and recognised the costliness of the jewel, but scarcely -knowing what she did or what she said, while a curious mixture of -dumb joy in her new lover and remorse for the former one seized her. - -She heard hurried and passionate words poured into her ear; she felt -the firm, warm clasp of Sir Redmond's hands on hers as he begged -permission to clasp the necklet round her slender throat, while -yieldingly she turned towards him, and deftly--he was not unused to -episodes such as this--as he touched her soft, white skin, he clasped -it on, his eyes glowing with fire and animation as he bent over her -sweet little face. - -The latter was pale rather than flushed, and her mobile lips were -quivering as he pressed his to them, pursuing his advantage with all -the courage, skill, and tact his past rascally experience had given -him; while the force of his sudden love, if it scared, also delighted -Ellinor, though the upbraiding and set visage of Robert Wodrow seemed -to rise between them. - -'One day I shall see the family diamonds of the house of Sleath -sparkling on your brow and bosom, love,' said he, kissing her eyes, -as gravely as if the said house of Sleath had come in with the -European rabble of the Conqueror. 'And you promise to be mine, -Ellinor?' he added, pressing her close to him. - -'Yes,' she replied, in a scarcely audible whisper. - -'There are some men who can love several women in succession--or -imagine they do so. I am not one of these, believe me, darling! I -have never--could never have done that. You, Ellinor, are the first -love of my heart--my first and only one!' - -How he talked, this man who knew well what passion was, but never -loved, and the girl was too truthful generally herself to doubt; so -her heart throbbed as his honeyed words fell on her willing ear. - -'And so, love, we shall soon be made one now,' he whispered, with -another caress. - -After a time she said, timidly and blushingly, - -'You will tell--you will talk with Dr. Wodrow about all this, -Redmond?' - -'How delicious to hear my name on your lips! But--Dr. -Wodrow--why--is he a relation?' - -'Why then--what then?' - -'He is a kind of guardian; papa, on his deathbed, bequeathed Mary and -me to his care.' - -'Consult him--impossible!' said Sir Redmond, whose face darkened. -'Why should we condescend to consult that old pump with the -Sabbath-day face, when our own hearts agree? Besides, if my uncle, -from whom I have great expectations, knew that I had married a Scotch -girl--he has such curious prejudices----' - -'Your uncle?' queried Ellinor, timidly. - -'I have, unfortunately, an old and strangely-tempered relation in -that degree. He is dying under an incurable disease, and probably -cannot live out this winter--certainly not next spring. I am the -heir to all his estates, and it is his fancy that I should marry into -a family of title--' - -'Otherwise?' - -'I shall lose every shilling--every one!' - -'Poor man! If the end is so near, surely we can wait, Redmond--nay, -of course, we must wait,' she added, coyly and fondly. - -'I cannot wait, my love for you will not permit me, yet I am, though -well enough off, not so rich that I can afford to lose a great -inheritance. Could we--can we--but keep our marriage from his -knowledge? But we will talk of all this another time, darling. I am -too hasty, too impetuous, with you. People are coming this way. -Take my arm; let us go!' - -And he led her out into the sunlighted lawn in such a state of -bewilderment that but for the chain and locket, of which, to avoid -explanations, she divested herself, she would have deemed the whole -episode a dream. - -So 'the song was sung, the tale was told, and the heart was given -away.' - -Ellinor, on rejoining her friends, looked about her, and felt -somewhat of a relief that she could nowhere see Robert Wodrow, who, -as we have said, had abruptly taken his departure, and even amid the -splendour of Sir Redmond's proposal--for a splendid one it seemed to -poor Ellinor--an emotion of reproach for unloyalty to Robert Wodrow, -the first and early lover of her girlish life, rose up in her mind. - -While her soul was yet loaded with the memory of that, to her, most -naturally great episode in the conservatory, on which all her future -life was to turn, we may wonder what she would have thought had she -overheard a few bantering words that passed between Sir Redmond -Sleath and the Honourable Blanche Galloway as they were looking -towards her and evidently talking about her, while Mrs. Wodrow, who -was near, strained her ears to listen. - -'A wife, you say? No, my dear Miss Galloway; I can't afford such a -luxury in these times, and consequently cannot be a marrying man, -unless----' - -'Unless what?' - -'I found one facile enough to have me, and with the necessary amount -of acreage, coalpits, money in the Funds, or elsewhere.' - -'If so, why are you so attentive in that absurd quarter, where there -is no money certainly?' asked the lady, pointing to Ellinor with her -fan. - -'Why, indeed!' thought Mrs. Wodrow, exasperated about her son Robert. - -Sir Redmond paused. - -'Why?' asked the young lady again, categorically. - -'_Pour passer le temps_,' replied Sir Redmond, with one of his -insolent smiles, as he twirled out the ends of his tawny moustachios. - -Mrs. Wodrow did not hear his answer, though she saw the expression of -his face; and at this reply Miss Galloway smiled triumphantly and -disdainfully while slowly fanning herself. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -AFTER THOUGHTS. - -There are generally two distinct sets of people at every country -entertainment carrying out the principle of 'pig-iron that looks down -on tenpenny nails;' but Lady Dunkeld's garden-party was voted a -charming gathering. She had a special skill for assorting her -guests, and did so accordingly, though some of our _dramatis personæ_ -assorted themselves; and the result was so far harmony, -apparently--we say apparently, for it was not universal. - -Thus Blanche Galloway was displeased with the manner in which Leslie -Colville hovered about Mary Wellwood, while Colville, and more -especially Robert Wodrow, were both displeased by the conspicuous -absence of Sir Redmond and Ellinor. Robert knew not where they had -been, and somehow never thought of looking in the conservatories, and -probably would not have done so had the idea occurred to him. - -He had not been near her all day, and he was now, more than ever, -beginning to realise bitterly that the girl he had loved so well all -these years past, and who, he certainly thought, loved him, was going -out of his life as completely as if she had never existed. Yet he -could not relinquish her without another effort--another last appeal; -though he quitted the gaieties of Craigmhor early with a sore and -swollen heart. - -The evening was far advanced when the sisters returned to -Birkwoodbrae. - -There was a letter lying on the dining-room table addressed to -Ellinor in the familiar handwriting of Robert Wodrow. Why did he -write to her now when he lived so close by, as a hedge only separated -Birkwoodbrae from the glebe? unless to tell her what he dared not -trust his lips to do; and her heart foreboded this. - -The letter lay almost beneath her hand white and glaring in the last -flush of the sunset; but, until Elspat had retired and Mary had -followed on some household matter intent, she did not trust herself -to open it. - -Then when there was no one by to observe her, she slowly opened the -letter of the lover who too truly feared he had been supplanted by -another. - -Line after line--though it was brief--the words were loving and -tender, but ended in bitterness and upbraiding; passion made them -eloquent, and they burned into the heart of the girl as the eyes and -voice of Robert haunted her; but she felt besotted by this new and -showy admirer, he was so different from homely, honest, Robert -Wodrow--so different from any man she had ever met before; and why -should Robert, who was only her friend--her old playmate, she strove -to think, but with much sophistry, attempt to compete with him and -control her movements. - -'I must give you up, Robert,' she half whispered to herself; and then -the idea occurred to her, 'would she have done so had she never met -Sir Redmond Sleath?' - -The letter had a postscript:-- - -'My darling, the windows of your room face mine over the orchard -wall. If you have not cast me utterly out of your heart, for pity -sake give me some sign then to-morrow--place a vase of flowers upon -your window-sill, and I shall know the token.' - -But Robert Wodrow next day, from earliest dawn till morn was long -past, looked and watched in vain for the sign, but none was given to -him; for though the heart of Ellinor Wellwood was wrung within her, -she was too completely under a new and baleful influence now, and the -old love was fast being forgotten. - -To do her a little justice, we must admit that her first impulse had -been to accord the poor fellow the token for which his soul thirsted. - -A vase of flowers, sent to her but that morning from Sir Redmond by -the hands of his valet, was on the mantelpiece. She put her hands -towards it mechanically, as if she would have placed it on her window -sill in obedience to that pitiful letter; but strange to say the -flowers were all dead--already dead and withered! - -Why was this? - -Something superstitious crept over the girl's heart as she looked on -them; she turned away--and the token was not given. - -Robert, we have said, watched with aching heart and aching eyes in -vain. Had the postscript escaped her notice? It might be so; and to -this straw, like a drowning man, he clung. So the day passed on; and -Ellinor began to think she had done wisely in not raising hopes only -to crush them, and gave herself up to thoughts of Sir Redmond, and -the secret contemplation of his beautiful gift. - -Sir Redmond had poured into her ear much of love, of passion, of -admiration, and so forth, certainly; but even to Ellinor's -unsophisticated mind his proposal of marriage seemed a strange one. - -Each sister had ample food for her own thoughts. Mary was rehearsing -over and over again the cutting of the initials on the tree, and the -manner of Colville to herself. If he really was engaged to Blanche -Galloway (of which she had no positive proof), it was not flattering -to either of them; yet the expression of his eyes seemed ever sweet, -candid, and honest; and she gave fully her confidence to Ellinor. - -The latter, who had never a secret to keep from her sister before, -felt with shame and compunction that she had one now--one of vast -importance to them both; but Sir Redmond had bound her to secrecy for -a little time, and she could but trust; so fondly she thought over -that scene in the conservatory--his proposal, a dazzling one, for -would she not one day be Lady Sleath, proud, wealthy, and independent -of all the world? - -Even her parents, who were lying in their graves, with all their love -of her, had never in their proudest and most exultant moments -pictured for either of their children a future like this! - -So she seemed to live in an enchanted world, out of which the figure -of Robert Wodrow faded. 'Once in our lives,' says a writer, -'Paradise opens for all of us out of the dull earth, and moments, -golden with the light of romance, shine upon us with a radiance like -unto no other radiance of time, and we do not stay to count the cost -of the bitter desolation that follows. For Eve herself would -scarcely have surrendered one memory of Eden for all the joys to be -found upon earth.' - -Colville, when in the solitude of his own room, overlooking the woods -of Craigmhor, was full of his own thoughts, some of which were not -very pleasant, as he was dissatisfied with himself. He had a little -plan he wished to carry out, as we shall show in time, and he felt -perhaps that he was acting foolishly. He had come from London with -the Dunkeld family, who evidently expected more from him in regard to -Blanche than he had yet evinced, and the rumour of their engagement -was a false one. - -He had also come with his mind inspired with doubt, indifference, -even prejudice against some of those he had met, the Wellwood sisters -in particular; and, instead of finding them objectionable in any way, -they were far more refined than himself, the 'curled pet' of many a -Belgravian drawing-room. - -Many a fair face in these regions was forgotten now, and his thoughts -were all of Mary Wellwood--more than he dared acknowledge to himself. -Though he had seen so little of her, he felt--was it the result of -some magnetic affinity?--as if he had known her all his life; as if a -full knowledge of her character had suddenly crept into his heart, -and yet this was impossible just then. - -'Mary Wellwood!' he murmured to himself. - -He had heard of Colonel Wellwood's daughters in London more than -once, from one who should have befriended them, but always omitted to -do so, and whose views and opinions of two friendless girls were ever -slighting and hostile; and now that he met and knew them, Colville -despised himself for some of the thoughts in which he had first -indulged concerning them, and the more tenderly he thought of Mary -the more reproachful of himself he grew. - -He had made no declaration--no; he was neither so rash nor so foolish -as that yet, with all his romance, if the object of her regard was -Mr. Robert Wodrow. - -Of her feelings towards himself he could not form the slightest idea, -and her manner was a source of perplexity. One moment she was frank, -genial, and without restraint; but the next, if he became in the -least degree tender, she grew retiring, distant, and cold; and, -though he knew it not, this bearing was born of the rumours -concerning Blanche Galloway, and he was all unaware how local gossip -had mixed up his name with that of this young lady. - -On one occasion he suspected that Mary avoided him, and once she -seemed nearly to dislike him; thus he was pleased that he had not too -formally committed himself, and so, until he could put the matter 'to -the touch, to win or lose it all,' he would but torment himself with -doubts and fears in the way usual to all lovers; but ere the time -came, events were to occur which, though in some measure caused by -himself, the bitter issue of them he could never have foreseen. - -The two chief episodes of the garden-party were of course well known -to the two ladies at Craigmhor, as Mademoiselle Rosette had two -bright and sharp French eyes in her head, and knew perfectly well how -to use them. - -'I don't like the conduct of Sir Redmond, of course, Blanche,' said -Lady Dunkeld, 'and have no wish that he should involve himself with -an obscure girl whom he met in our house.' - -'I believe it to be all nothing more than a mere _coquetterie de -salon_,' said Lord Dunkeld. 'Sleath is not a marrying man.' - -'And Captain Colville's conduct with the other sister, wandering away -into remote parts of the ground; I suppose that was a _coquetterie de -salon_ too, mamma,' said Blanche, her eyes sparkling with anger, -while she shrugged her shoulders, and briskly used her dark blue and -bronzy green fan of peacocks' feathers. - -'What--how?' - -'They strolled away from everyone together, and were absent ever so -long.' - -'This is intolerable; but men will be men, you see, Blanche. If Miss -Wellwood had been a married lady it would not have mattered so much. -I think when a young man is attached to a married lady it keeps him -out of harm's way,' said Lady Dunkeld; 'however, we must take some -decided measures with Miss Wellwood, and with Captain Colville too.' - -'Dear mamma!' cooed Miss Blanche Galloway, and she laughed that -worldly little laugh of hers, which was so indicative of her -character. - -The result of all this was that, when Mary and Ellinor called -ceremoniously shortly after the garden-party, Lady Dunkeld, who was -seated at one of the drawing-room windows, on seeing them approach, -rose hastily and retired. - -'No one was at home.' - -Next day the sisters were scarcely noticed by Lady Dunkeld and her -daughter at church. - -Other persons were not slow to remark this, and the surmises -thereon--though the two girls knew nothing about them--were the -reverse of pleasant or flattering. - -Mary observed the absence of Captain Colville, who was not in the -Dunkeld pew; and on the following day she felt a keen pang on -learning that he was gone for a few days to shoot with Lord Dunkeld -in the Forest of Alyth. - -So he had gone without paying her a farewell visit, thought Mary. - -'He is to return in a fortnight,' said her informant, Mrs. Wodrow, -near whose chair Mary was seated on a tabourette in the cosy manse -parlour, making up a gala-cap for the old lady; and near her crouched -Jack, watching the process. - -The parlour was a pretty apartment, neither morning-room nor boudoir, -though somewhat of both, with many indications of a woman's presence. - -Rare old china was disposed in odd nooks, and china bowls with roses -freshly gathered from the garden; and the furniture, if -old-fashioned, and pertaining to the early days of Mrs. Wodrow's -homecoming to the manse as a young wedded wife, was all polished to -perfection. On a shelf was an imposing row of the 'Wodrow Society's' -religious publications, including 'The Last Words of My Lady -Coltness,' 'Of My Lady Anne Elcho,' the life of the gallant -Covenanter, Sergeant John Nisbet of Hardhill, and so forth. - -'_Apropos_ of Captain Colville,' said the old lady, looking down on -her young friend, 'I hope you have not lost your heart to him, Mary?' - -'I should think not,' replied Mary, stoutly, but colouring so deeply, -nevertheless, that Mrs. Wodrow could see how the crimson suffused -even her delicate neck. - -'That is well, Mary; mischief enough has been wrought among us -already,' resumed Mrs. Wodrow, her benign old face becoming cloudy. - -Mary knew to what she referred, but seemed, or affected to seem, -wholly intent on the cap; and Mrs. Wodrow looked admiringly and -affectionately down on her dimpled wrists and little white hands. - -'I do wish I had something nice and fresh for trimming!' she -exclaimed, as she twirled round the cap for inspection. 'I think -these rosebuds will do with this spray of ivy,' she added, searching -a flower-box, and putting her head meditatively on one side. - -'Then, Mrs. Wodrow,' she exclaimed, 'if I fail to please you, you -must be a dreadful coquette, you old dear!' - -'Thanks, pet Mary; when did you ever fail to please me?' said the old -lady, caressing the girl's head, and adding, anxiously, 'You do not -look well, Mary; where were you this morning? Not in the clachan, I -hope, as I hear there is scarlatina there.' - -'I have no fear; I took a kind message from Robert about a sick baby. -I fear it is dying, and God pity the poor mother, the only light of -whose life is likely to go out in darkness.' - -'You have a tender heart, Mary. Robert, poor Robert; you know he has -failed to pass, Mary?' - -'Yes; I am so sorry, and so is Ellinor.' - -'Ellinor may well be,' said Mrs. Wodrow, with some asperity. - -'Why?' asked Mary, her colour deepening again. - -'Because her fair face has come between him and his wits, poor -fellow, and I shouldn't wonder if we lose him altogether.' - -'Lose him!' repeated Mary, in a breathless voice; 'how?' - -'He seems desperate and says that rather than slave for another -session at college he will go for a soldier.' - -'Oh, never, never think of such a thing!' - -'He and Ellinor seem to have quarrelled.' - -'Quarrelled--surely not! About what or who?' - -'That man Sir Redmond Sleath, and his attentions to her.' - -'They will make up this quarrel as they have made up others long -ago,' said poor Mary, cheerfully, as she little knew to what a crisis -the baronet's admiration for her sister was coming--nay, had come. -She knew nothing of the scene in the conservatory and other minor -scenes, of the present of jewellery, of utterances and promises. She -believed the whole affair was only a lovers' quarrel, stimulated by -jealousy on Robert's part, and vanity on that of Ellinor; and -meantime she sympathised with Mrs. Wodrow, and would have done so -with Robert had he been there, but he was fully and painfully -occupied elsewhere at that precise time. - -'As children--as boy and girl, they may have quarrelled, Mary; but -this affair will be a serious one for both, for Robert especially. -His studies are neglected, his appetite is gone, and he looks the -ghost of himself.' - -Mary knew not what more to urge, as she had seen, with some anxiety, -Sir Redmond's admiration of her sister, and said, after a pause, - -'I wonder what manner of man Sir Redmond is?' - -'Judging by the little I saw of him at the garden-party--where the -mischief seems to have been done--not a good man, Mary dear--not a -good man, though a handsome one in his way, and to a young girl, I -doubt not, fascinating. Yet I would rather see my daughter dead, if -I had one, than married to a man with eyes so cold, so cruel and -shifty.' - -'But _who_ is thinking of marriage?' said Mary, with a slight laugh, -little knowing that it was a contingency as remote from the thoughts -of Sir Redmond as her own. - -'And I don't think that Captain Colville--for all that Dr. Wodrow -seems to like him so much--can be good in every way if he has such a -friend or companion as Sir Redmond Sleath,' said the old lady, -shaking her head. - -These provoking words haunted Mary for weeks after, as the tormenting -fragment of a song or air will haunt us--not because we like it, -though it will recur again and again. Then he had gone without the -formality of a farewell visit. Had the Dunkeld ladies aught to do -with that? Mary's heart foreboded that they had. - -Mrs. Wodrow was full of indignation at the worry and humiliation -undergone by her son, and even the doctor was not disinclined to -inveigh against garden-parties and such-like gatherings, as his -ancestor did against theatres--'those seminaries of idleness, -looseness, and sin,' as he termed them in _Analecta Scotica_. - -The peaceful current of the sisters' life--the life they led at -bonnie Birkwoodbrae, was soon to be roughly disturbed now, and events -were to occur which they could never have foreseen. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -THE LAST APPEAL. - -Robert Wodrow, on the afternoon referred to in our last chapter, was, -we have said, engaged elsewhere than at the manse, and yet he was not -very far away. - -Incidents trivial at the time had now recurred with convincing and -accumulating force to his feverish mind on one hand; on the other, he -feared that he might have been too hasty in his condemnation, and too -summary in his suspicions, in quitting the party at Craigmhor as he -had done; yet where were these two all the time he had missed them, -and what was the subject of their discourse while he had been -lingering amid the gay groups in the sunshine, and was grotesquely -tortured by the music of the band? - -And the token he had prayed for had not been accorded! How he -loathed the little world in which he lived; how he longed to eschew -everyone there, and get far away from the Birks of Invermay, for to -see Ellinor among these with another, and that other 'the slimy -Sleath,' as he thought, would drive him mad. - -To think of Ellinor--to meet and hang about her; to anticipate her -every wish and want, so far as lay in his humble power, had been for -years--in the intervals of his hard studies--the daily occupation of -Robert Wodrow's life; and now all this was at an end; his -'occupation,' like Othello's, seemed gone. - -Knowing that Mary was at the manse, he thought he would find Ellinor -at home alone, and he was right, so he ventured near Birkwoodbrae to -make a 'last appeal;' and yet even in this he had been, to a certain -extent, interfered with by his rival. - -The latter, well aware of the time when Mary Wellwood was generally -abroad among her poor people, or otherwise employed, had sent his -valet, John Gaiters--a well-trained rascal--with a beautiful bouquet -and a perfumed note to Ellinor. - -In the note he urged her by every means in her power to preserve -secrecy close as the grave concerning the terms on which they were, -lest his expectations might be destroyed, and with them her own; and -then he pressed her to meet him at a certain point near the Linn on -the May, at a given time, when he would tell her more. - -This missive was curiously and most warily worded to be the -production of one who professed to be such an ardent lover. It did -not bear even his signature, but only his initials mysteriously -twisted into a species of monogram. To one more worldly wise or less -foolish than Ellinor, some doubts would have been inspired by its -tenor alone, but she had none, and simply felt joy and tumult in her -breast. - -She clasped the golden locket round her neck, and with brightness -spreading over her sweet face, contemplated herself in a hand mirror, -while indulging in daydreams of her future as Lady Sleath, being -driven in a splendid carriage to Buckingham Palace, or down St. -James's Street, with bare shoulders in broad daylight, with a train -some yards long and diamonds in profusion, to be presented at the -drawing-room in the gloomy old palace of the Tudors, surrounded by -handsome fellows in snowy uniforms, who murmured compliments about -her beauty. - -Had 'dear Redmond' not described to her, too, something of the life -they would lead together? Returning from Tyburnian and Belgravian -balls at 6 a.m., breakfasting at mid-day, and then going for 'a spin' -in the Row, where cavaliers would surround her, or canter by her side -and beg for waltzes at Lady A.'s and the Countess of B.'s. Then -dress again for a flower _fête_ at the Botanical Gardens; for -pigeon-shooting at Hurlingham (wherever that was--poor Ellinor had -not the ghost of an idea!) Sunday at the Zoo, and a dinner at the -'Star and Garter,' or it might be at the 'Trafalgar' in Greenwich, -which she supposed to be one of H.M. ships. - -Suddenly, amid visions such as these, unheard or unannounced, Robert -Wodrow stood before her, hat in hand, and in his eyes, keen and dark -grey, a brooding light that boded evil to some one! - -He was pale almost to ghastliness, and her eyes drooped, as if a -weight oppressed their full white lids when they met his fixed gaze. -However, he took her proffered hand mechanically, and then she tried -to talk gaily, not knowing what she said; but the talk proved a -miserable failure. - -How he longed to take her in his arms once again; to kiss her glossy -brown hair, her damask cheek, her rosy lips; to implore her to love -him still and share his humble future! But no; it would be more -cowardly to take any advantage then of any passing remorse she might -feel; and better was it, perhaps, that she should marry this other -man, if he really loved her, and forget--if she could--that there was -such a poor fellow as Robert Wodrow in the secluded world she would -leave behind her; and he said something of this to her in faltering -accents, and for a time the heart of Ellinor faltered too--but for a -time only. - -The new vision was too bright to fade quickly away! - -'I am eating my heart out with sorrow and uncertainty--I am sick of -suspense, Ellinor,' he said, after a pause; 'our happy meetings, our -walks, our talks, our plans for the future--are they all as nothing -to you now, Ellinor?' - -'That is it, Robert,' she said, making a prodigious effort to be calm -and cool; 'you see, Robert, we have been so much together.' - -'All our days, Ellinor!' - -'Too much so--yes, all our days; so it never struck me that--that----' - -'What, darling?' - -'You cared for me in _that_ way.' - -'Indeed! Your doubts come too late.' - -'Or I might have learned to care too,' she said, with confusion. - -'You did love me, and care for me too, before that fellow Sleath came -among us,' said Robert, gloomily; for it seemed hard indeed that, -after the happiness of their boyhood and girlhood, after all the -budding hopes of riper years, under this man's new and hateful -influence, she made light of him and his love--mocked him, it seemed, -laughed at him for being so foolish to care for her 'in that way,' as -she phrased it. - -'Robert,' said she, after a pause, 'why be so angry about a little -flirtation?' - -She spoke deprecatingly, and her face wore a sickly smile. - -'To flirt was never your wont, and I have read that the essence of -flirting is that it is a stolen pleasure, the future results of which -cannot be foreseen.' - -'It would be tame between such old friends as you and I, Robert.' - -'Tame indeed--and unnatural,' said he, huskily. - -His eyes, which hitherto had been fixed upon her colourless face, now -fell upon the ornament she was wearing--an ornament he had never seen -before; and from its apparent value his heart too surely foreboded -who the donor was; yet he disdained to refer to it, though he said, -upbraidingly, - -'Oh, Ellinor, how I have loved, and still love you, is known only to -Heaven and myself; yet never again shall my hand touch yours; never -again my arm go round you; never more shall my lips touch yours, -though yearning--oh, God only knows how intensely--longing to do so -once again--only once again!' - -She evinced no sign of a truce in this position, and was devoutly -hoping that Robert Wodrow would adopt some other _rôle_ than that of -lover. - -'Robert,' she said, nervously, 'are we not friends?' - -'No.' - -'Can we not be friends again?' - -'_Friends!_ How can you ask me? It was, you well know, always -understood,' he continued, making an effort to be calm, 'that when I -could afford to marry, you, Ellinor, would be my wife. Why take all -my love and give me back not an atom now?' - -She accorded no answer. - -'You have ceased to be true to me. I have known and felt it for -weeks past,' he continued, 'and yet I cannot regain my freedom of -heart.' - -Her head was weary, but her heart was beating wildly and painfully; -and Robert's eyes, as he surveyed her with all their sadness of -expression, were expressive of the fondest love. - -Never before had these two spoken or confronted each other with -bitterness of heart until now, and each felt that for the other all -was over, and that the tender past, 'the grace of a day that was -dead,' would never come again. - -'Robert, I have always hated the idea of being poor,' urged Ellinor, -as if to extenuate herself, 'and with you, a young, struggling, -country practitioner, supposing the summit of your ambition won, I -should never be otherwise. Pardon me,' she added, recalling the -Alnaschar visions his visit had interrupted, 'if I speak unkindly.' - -'Say, rather, cruelly, and you will be nearer the truth, Ellinor -Wellwood; yet I am sorry for you.' - -'Be not so, Robert. I repeat that I would never be happy poor--now,' -she added, involuntarily. - -'You have made that discovery since this interloper came!' - -She was silent, but her silence was assent, and he took it as such. - -'Not happy even at dear old Birkwoodbrae or the home I meant to -provide close by it?' he said, reproachfully. - -'Be reasonable, Robert; happen what may, we can always be dear -friends.' - -'Friends--again!' he exclaimed, sternly; 'you and I, Ellinor?' - -Then his manner changed, for the greatness of his love made him very -humble, and he said, - -'Do you know what you are doing--do you fully think of it even? You -cannot love this man, Ellinor, whom, I suppose, you are going to -marry, as you loved me.' - -'Marriage, Robert!' said she, blushing deeply now; 'how fast your -thoughts run.' - -'How?' - -'If that is to be, it is in the future, of course--but just now----' - -She paused with some confusion, as she thought of the injunctions -laid by Sleath upon her. - -'You cannot love him?' - -'Perhaps not quite exactly yet, Robert,' replied Ellinor, not knowing -really what to say, and feeling some shame at the part she was -acting; 'but think of his position, and the place he can give me--a -poor, almost penniless, girl--in society.' - -'And in that place you expect to be happy?' - -'I shall have substantial grounds for happiness, and I think, Robert -dear, you wish me well.' - -'Heaven knows I do, though you are learning fast to forget. Search -your heart, Ellinor,' he continued, piteously; 'think over our past, -darling--of our mutually anticipated future, in which each seemed to -see only the other. Against reason, hope, and all I hear I cannot -forget, and hence I love you--love you still, Ellinor.' - -He stretched out his hands to her, and his eyes grew very dim. - -For a moment she was tempted to throw herself upon his loving breast, -and there sob out her remorse and seek his forgiveness; but the -demons of pride and ambition ruled her heart too strongly now, and -she withheld or crushed the emotions of pity and generosity that so -fleetly inspired her. - -When that emotion came again they were far apart, and it came too -late--too late! - -How this last meeting _might_ have ended it is difficult to say; but -Robert Wodrow, thinking it was useless to protract the agony he felt, -pressed his tremulous lips to her right hand, and, without trusting -himself to look again in her face, swiftly withdrew, and quitted the -house. - -Poor Robert! She was indeed sorry for him--sorry that the old -friendly relations, as she strove to deem them now, should be broken -up. 'They had been such chums'--Robert, more justly, deemed it -'lovers'--in the dear past time that would never--could never--come -again! - -Better a thousand times, if it was to be, that they parted now, and -that it was over--all over and done with, thought Ellinor, after a -time. - -Amid all this there was a strange and conflicting--a mysterious -foreboding in her mind, that by casting off the honest love of Robert -Wodrow she might be entailing future misery on herself. - -The last appeal had been made, and, though in vain, young Wodrow did -not regret that he had made it, but he feared that Ellinor might be -following a shadow and missing the substance. So true it is that -'the golden moments in the stream of life rush past us, and we see -nothing but sand; that angels come to visit us, and we only know them -when they are gone.' - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -GRETCHEN AND FAUST. - -'And you have quarrelled with poor Robert?' said Mary, somewhat -reproachfully, to her sister. - -'Nay--not quarrelled, exactly,' replied Ellinor. - -'What, then?' - -'Agreed to part.' - -'After--_all_; oh, Ellinor!' - -'All what?' - -'Well, you know what I mean.' - -'We have always been in the habit of calling each other by our -Christian names, and by pet names, too, such as Robbie and Ellie--a -bad system--and--and--in fact, you know, Mary, we regarded each other -rather as brother and sister than as--as----' - -'Lovers--and in this new view of the situation you are no doubt -influenced by Sir Redmond Sleath?' - -'Perhaps,' replied Ellinor, doggedly, as she watched the hands of the -clock. - -'If he means honourably--and he dare not mean otherwise--you are -perhaps worldly-wise. But poor Robert!' - -The exclamation, though uttered low, found an echo in the heart of -Ellinor. Yet she was inexorably intent on keeping her invited -appointment, of which Mary had not, of course, the least suspicion. - -'I do not like Sir Redmond,' said Mary, with a tone of decision. - -'Why?' asked Ellinor, changing colour. - -'He never looks me straight in the face, and at times, with all his -insouciance, he can do nothing but tug out his moustache, as if to -show off his white, useless hands. He certainly has hung about you, -Ellinor, more than I--considering our friendless and lonely -position--have quite relished.' - -'Not perhaps more than Captain Colville has hung about you, Mary,' -retorted Ellinor, softly; 'and I may as well admit that Sir Redmond -always speaks to me of his love, and has asked me to love him in -return.' - -'He has done this?' exclaimed Mary, growing pale. - -'Yes,' replied Ellinor, kissing her sister, perhaps to hide her own -face. - -'Has he asked you to be his wife?' - -The look of unrest--sorrowful unrest--she had detected more than once -in Ellinor's face crept over it now. The latter cast her sweet eyes -down and made no reply, as in this important matter she was as yet -tongue-tied. - -'Be wary--be wary, pet Ellinor, for it has been truly said that -common-sense and honesty bear so small a proportion to folly and -knavery that human life at least is but a paltry province.' - -'Is this out of one of Dr. Wodrow's sermons?' asked Ellinor, with -some annoyance. 'Surely I am the best judge of what is for my own -happiness.' - -'Perhaps; but remember the proverb,' said Mary, thinking of the -absent Colville and fading hopes. 'Happiness is like an echo which -answers to the call, but does not come.' - -'What an old croaker it is!' said Ellinor, as she laughingly kissed -her sister again and slipped away from her. - -She re-read Sir Redmond Sleath's letter--the first love-letter she -had ever received, if we except the sorrowful and upbraiding epistle -from Robert Wodrow. It seemed orthodox enough, as it began 'My -darling,' but had no genuine signature, and there was very little -devotion expressed in it, and was brief and curt. - -Perhaps Sir Redmond disliked letter-writing--most men do; but there -seemed something wanting in this letter--something she could not -define, and the lack of which she felt and sighed over. Were Mary's -words of warning affecting her? It almost seemed so; but she put the -document carefully away in the most secret recess of her desk, and -hastened to hold the meeting it solicited--and like the Gretchen of -Goethe hastening to meet Faust, took her way to the trysting-place -near the Linn, and long after in Ellinor's mind was the sound of the -May, as it poured over the steep cascade, associated with this -meeting and all the pain it caused her. - -When she arrived, Sir Redmond was not there, and was ungallantly late -in keeping his appointment; but he and Lord Dunkeld had lately -betaken themselves to wiling away the evenings at écarté, though the -baronet had a way of turning a king that would have made the fortune -of anyone compelled to pluck wealthy pigeons. He came just when -Ellinor was very much disposed to pout, and framed the most humble of -apologies, as he was resolved to lose no time in carrying out his -nefarious plans in absence of the Guardsman, who seemed to have--he -knew not why, unless for evil schemes of his own--a mysterious -interest in these two girls, of one of whom he stood somehow rather -in awe. - -Pressing Ellinor close to his heart, with her face nestled in his -neck, he told her why he had asked for this meeting, and what he had -now to propose for their own happiness, and that to deceive his -wealthy uncle, from whom their marriage must be kept a secret--there -could be no public ceremony--no notice in the newspapers, more than -all! - -'Dare you trust yourself to me, darling Ellinor, and marry me -privately; and then--then, before spring comes, assuredly--' - -'My heart recoils from such treachery to Mary--from all this secrecy; -is it--can it be necessary?' asked the girl, weeping. - -'Most necessary for our future, if it is to be a brilliant one, as I -have no doubt you wish,' he continued, caressing her, and then added, -with a sophistry that would have been plain to anyone less simple or -less easily deluded than Ellinor, 'I am quite prepared to acknowledge -our marriage to all the world, provided it does not, as it must not, -reach my uncle's ears.' - -'I have heard that trusting to Providence in the shape of elderly -relations is often fatal,' said Ellinor, with a sickly smile. - -'I shall get a special licence, if that will satisfy you, Ellinor -darling!' he urged, ignorant of the fact that in Scotland such a -document was unknown, and that there the Archbishop of Canterbury had -no more power than 'General Booth.' - -He left nothing unsaid to play upon her weakness, but it was long -before he could obtain a half silent consent from her, and, ere he -did so, more than once an ugly gleam came into his eyes. - -Though not unhandsome, the face of Sir Redmond was not always a -pleasant one to look upon. A certain force about it there was, and -those who watched it felt that its owner was not a man to be trifled -with in anything that touched his self-interest or his evil purposes; -that he was a man ready for emergencies and heedless of obstacles if -he had an end in view. - -Like a character recently described by a novelist, 'his great weapon -was his inflexible will, aided by the reputation he had achieved of -never allowing himself to be defeated. I need not say that he held -women in the most supreme contempt, and openly expressed his opinion -that every woman had her price. The only merit he assumed was in -knowing the exact article of barter each had set her heart on.' - -Such was the pleasant personage who had supplanted Robert Wodrow, and -even while he was softly caressing the girl and subjecting her to his -endearments, he was thinking of the time to come--the time when she -would find herself separated from her loving sister, her only tie on -earth--alone in the world, penniless and in his power, her character -and position utterly lost, and when none would believe her most -solemn protestations of innocence; then would be his hour of supreme -triumph, when, like a bruised and wounded bird, she would come -fluttering to him for succour and protection, and when he might be -generous, and make her over to 'that yahoo, Robert Wodrow.' - -'I shall have a splendid house in which to enshrine you when the time -comes and I am free,' continued the tempter; 'you, my darling, have -known no home but this sequestered one--apart from all the world--a -world of which you know nothing.' - -'And poor Mary--how can I leave her?' - -'Nor need you do so--once we are away and have been made one we shall -send for her; it will only be the matter of a post or two. I shall -so love and cherish you both,' urged Sleath, half laughing in his -mind at the conviction that she would never see Mary again -until--well, until he was tired of her. 'Courage, little one, and -you will be Lady Sleath--it is a second edition of the miller's -lovely daughter.' - -'I am not quite so humble as she was,' said Ellinor, making a little -_moue_. - -'Nor I so exalted as the "gracious Duncan." To-morrow night, then, -dearest Ellinor, at this hour--nine o'clock, I shall await you with a -hired carriage at the corner of the lane below Birkwoodbrae, and a -short drive will take us to the station, where we shall get the up -train for London and the south!' - -Ellinor answered only by her tears, and the silently-accorded kiss -that gave consent, and went shudderingly back to her home, feeling as -if she was hovering on the verge of an abyss. - -And she was so in more ways than one! - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -HOW FAUST SUCCEEDED. - -The day, an eventful one, indeed, to Ellinor--wore on; the 'to-morrow -night' of Sir Redmond's arrangements had become 'to-night,' and the -hour of nine seemed to be approaching swiftly. - -Mary's warnings to Ellinor to 'be wary' recurred to the latter -persistently and reproachfully, yet she never wavered or swerved from -her purpose, though with reference to marriage there came to her -memory the words of a writer who says it _is_ a solemn thing when you -come to think of it, that if you make a mistake in the matter you are -in for it, and nothing can pull you out again. - -Ellinor's ambition was, as we have shown, dazzled on one hand, while -love and novelty lured her on the other. Her heart was wrung by the -duplicity with which she was treating her sister, and the -contemplation of what that sister's emotions would be when she was -missed; but Sleath's brilliant promises and visions of the future -that was before them, deadened the sense of the present for a time. - -She wrote a farewell letter to Mary, which the latter would in time -find on her toilet table. - -'The first step is taken now, I cannot retrace it,' thought Ellinor, -as she closed this letter, a very incoherent and blurred one; 'and -now to begone--to steal away without seeing darling Mary, whom I -could not look in the face.' - -Nervously and hurriedly she went through her drawers and -repositories, selecting and thrusting into a hand-bag those articles -which she thought were necessary for her journey or flight. Now and -then something turned up which reminded her of happy past hours, of -Mary's love, and their parents' memory; she gazed with tear-blinded -eyes on some faded photographs, and kissed them passionately as if -she could neither look on them long enough nor part with them. - -At last her assortment was made, and, fearful of meeting Mary, she -threw on her hat and cloak, grasped her bag, slipped softly from the -house by a back way, and passing through the old doorway with the -date and legend on its lintel, went quickly towards the place of -meeting, with her heart beating wildly, painfully, and all her pulses -tingling. - -The anxiety--the craving that had possessed her at times to get away -from the reproachful eyes of Robert Wodrow and the upbraiding -speeches of his mother, was about to be relieved now; for under the -mal-influence of Sleath the girl's nature seemed to have been -changed, but the last words Mrs. Wodrow had said to her were in her -memory then:-- - -'You took the love of my boy--the one deep love of his life it seemed -to be--made a plaything of his heart, and then cast it aside to break -and wither, it may be to die!' - -Anyone who saw Ellinor at this juncture would have found a curious -rigidity in the usually soft outline of her sweet face, and a -perplexed and troubled expression in her hazel eyes as she walked -onward, feeling it was not yet too late to return. - -But she had passed her word, plighted her troth, given her promise to -this man, and why should she not redeem her pledge? She was leaving -a homely and dull, a grey and sequestered, if perfectly peaceful -life, for the new and brilliant one to be shared with him, who loved -her so well, and she would fulfil her contract. - -Some--no doubt many--there would be who might have no pity for the -rash imprudence of a motherless girl yielding to the temptation given -her and eloping thus; and her name, her story, and her transgression, -in many a false version, might be bandied from lip to lip, a -conviction that galled and fretted her naturally proud spirit; but -the consciousness of all this was inferior to a sense of what she -knew Mary would feel, on finding herself deceived thus and left -alone--alone to face the scandal, gossip, _esclandre_, and -reprehension to which her act would give rise; and the knowledge gave -Ellinor acute mental agony. - -She had been that morning at the churchyard, as if to bid her parents -farewell in spirit, and saw the last chaplets that she and Mary had -woven lying on their graves, all withered now, and she had marvelled -when flowers from her hands would be laid there again. - -All was still around her now; she could hear, however, the voice of -Mary's tame owl in its nest in the garden wall, and the rush of the -May over its rocky bed. - -When might she hear that familiar sound in the sweet moonlight again? -Ay, Ellinor, when? - -Perfectly cool and audacious Sir Redmond Sleath was at the appointed -place betimes, and though an intrigue or adventure of this kind was -nothing new to him, his heart was certainly beating faster than usual -under his well-cut coat as he quitted the hired brougham at the end -of the lane which diverged from the highway towards Birkwoodbrae. - -The moon, a sickly and slender one, was waning, and the chill, pale -light of its crescent cast the shadows of the tall silver birches -across the pathway as he picked his way forward to where the outline -of the house at Birkwoodbrae came before him, with its grey walls and -windows half covered by masses of monthly roses and Virginia -creepers. The house and all around it seemed still as the grave. He -had come betimes, we say, and was thus at his post a little before -Ellinor came forth to meet him. - -He heard no sound and saw no sign, and to him seconds seemed like -minutes--minutes hours. Could anything have happened? Had Mary -baffled the plans of Ellinor, or had the courage of the latter failed -her at the last moment? He had known of such things; and there was a -curious suppressed gleam--a latent glitter in his cold blue eyes that -would not have been pleasant to see. - -He heard the house clock strike the hour of nine, and just as the -last stroke sounded he saw the waving of a dress and of a white -skirt, the wearer of which turned into the lane, and he smiled as -such men smile over the triumph of their own selfishness and -heartlessness; but now Ellinor, for she it was, paused in her -approach, for something between a yell and a hoarse oath escaped Sir -Redmond, blended with fierce growling, and he felt as if his right -leg had been caught in the sharpest of mantraps. - -True to the instincts of hate and vengeance for more than one kick -administered by Sleath, Jack, the bull terrier, who had been upon the -prowl, had caught the baronet by the calf of the leg and held him -fast! - -Now, whether it was a dog, a cat, a hare, or a rabbit on which Jack -fastened, he never relaxed his hold while life remained in his -victim; and so, after tearing Sir Redmond's trousers from heel to -waistband, Jack's sharp teeth were closed nigh to meeting in the -muscles of his enemy's right leg. - -And well might Ellinor pause in wonder and affright as she shrank -under the shadow of a hedge, for to the fierce imprecations of Sir -Redmond, and the angry snarling of the dog, were added the swearing -of the valet, John Gaiters, and the shouts of the brougham driver. - -By the time the dog let go and trotted leisurely to the house, there -was nothing left for Sir Redmond and his two attendants but an -ignominious retreat, and they drove off accordingly. - -To Sleath it was a matter for the fiercest exasperation that his -carefully matured and well-laid scheme to entrap a beautiful and -well-nigh friendless girl--a scheme on the very verge of its -fruition--had been baffled, and baffled so absurdly, so grotesquely, -and with so much physical agony, by 'an accursed cur which he would -yet shoot like a rat,' as he hissed through his clenched teeth. - -And Sleath was, strange to say, the more furious because he had -meditated a perfidy towards Ellinor. - -Terror of the dog's bite and probable hydrophobia made her would-be -lover nearly beside himself. He came no more near Birkwoodbrae, so, -for the present, she was safe from him. His pedestrianism was -effectually marred for several days, and even had he been able to -concoct any fresh nefarious scheme, events were about to occur at -Birkwoodbrae beyond the conception of all. - -However, on the day of the projected elopement, he had made all his -arrangements for leaving Craigmhor, and, having formally bade adieu -to Lord Dunkeld's household, he could not return, and had to carry -out his plans for travelling south without the fair companion whom he -intended should accompany him. In the snug comfort of a Pullman car -he gave loose to the rage and mortification naturally inspired by his -most humiliating and grotesque defeat. He drank heavily, and there -was a fiendish expression of determination in his face that terrified -even his usually stolid valet, Mr. John Gaiters. - -Though she heard the shrill voice of Elspat crying, - -'Oh, Miss Wellwood, Jack's been up to mischief--fighting with -something; his jaws are all over with blood!' - -Ellinor knew not precisely what had happened: she only felt that all -was over, how or why she knew not; but a revulsion of feeling took -possession of her, a flood of tears relieved her, and on her knees by -her bedside she thanked Heaven for her escape! - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -EVIL TIDINGS. - -That night before retiring to rest, when seated near Mary, and -affecting to read to Ellinor quietly by the light of a pleasantly -shaded lamp, all the stirring and startling events of the recent hour -or two seemed a kind of dream--an unreality--though the illusion was -apt to be dispelled by Mary's wondering surmises as to what Jack had -been fighting with, and who made all the noise prior to the dog's -return with somewhat ensanguined teeth and jaws! - -Ellinor, as she looked furtively from time to time at Mary's sweet -and placid face, with its downcast looks and soft, yet firm -expression, felt inclined to cast herself on her breast and confess -all the story of the late escape. But her heart failed her; it was -too full of shame for her duplicity, with doubt, bewilderment, and a -strange kind of hope in the future. - -Her day-dreams, as we have described them, were too bright and too -recent to be quite dispelled or abandoned yet. - -And both sisters were quite unaware that they owed the fact of their -being placidly seated as usual together at that time to Jack the -terrier, who lay asleep with his head resting on Mary's feet, yet -snarling from time to time and showing his teeth; for he was -dreaming--as dogs will dream--of his late encounter and revenge. For -though Jack had snarled fiercely when assailed by Gaiter's foot and -the driver's whip, he had made his first attack 'with that savage and -insidious silence' which, as Bell in his British quadrupeds says, -indicate the character of the bull-dog; and, though called a -fox-terrier, the gallant Jack had a strong cross of the bull in him. - -Betimes next morning Ellinor sought the spot where she was to have -met Sir Redmond. There the wayside grass was bruised, torn, and -spotted with blood, which the dew of the August night had failed to -wash away, and there lay a half-smoked cigar and a gentleman's kid -glove. On the latter, Jack, who accompanied her, with cocked ears -and tail, and with his bandy legs looking more impudent and confident -than usual, pounced with a snort of triumph, and tore it to shreds -with his teeth and paws, thus giving Ellinor the first light she had -on last night's mystery. - -There were marks close by where horses' hoofs had been planted, and -the deep ruts of carriage wheels--a carriage brought for her; all -silent witnesses that Sir Redmond had been there! - -And all this had happened but last night--exactly twelve hours ago; -yet it looked as if a score of years had passed since she stole -silently from her room and approached the shaded lane! - -Troubles and hopes always look brighter by day than by night, in -sunshine than under clouds and rain; so Ellinor began to consider the -whole affair with more composure. - -To her it had seemed that, 'although love in a cottage is a very fine -thing, love in a Belgravian mansion was decidedly preferable;' but -all that just then seemed to be over and done with, when, during the -day, she heard incidentally through old Elspat of Sir Redmond's -sudden departure from Craigmhor--the departure in which she was to -have shared! - -She loved Sir Redmond with her head only, and not with her heart; and -though Robert Wodrow might not have quite divined the difference, yet -a difference in such love there is. - -And Ellinor as she reflected, vowed to herself that never again would -she risk the loss of position as Colonel Wellwood's daughter (even to -be a baronet's wife), or place herself so foolishly in a comparative -stranger's power, till he was free to claim and wed her, despite -relations and wealth. - -Little did the simple Ellinor know the reality of the escape she had -so narrowly made from the pitfall prepared for her. '_Væ victis!_ is -the watchword of civilisation,' says a writer; 'a trustful, loving -girl succumbs to the artifices of a scoundrel, and society punishes -her by averting the light of its countenance from her, while the man -who has committed a crime only next to murder in atrocity is let off -scot-free. And so the world wags, my venerable masters! and it is a -jolly one, take it at its worst aspect.' - -Ignorant of the baffled elopement, of course, and perhaps of Sir -Redmond's departure from the neighbourhood of Invermay, Robert -Wodrow, intent on plans of his own, came near Ellinor no more, and -seemed to ignore her existence. - -And, strange to say, ere long she became indignant that he made no -sign or advance; while rumour said he was perhaps going away, no one -knew whither. There has seldom been a woman who liked to see a once -avowed lover slip from her grasp; and Robert Wodrow certainly had -been Ellinor's lover till the serpent entered her paradise in the -shape of rank and ambition. - -But we are somewhat anticipating the events of the day subsequent to -her intended flight. - -Mary, after evening fell, and having been round among some of her -poor people, was seated somewhat thoughtfully alone, and seemed to -have lost most of her usual buoyancy of spirit. Was it a prevision -of coming evil, she thought, or the result of the weather? The sun -had sunk like a red, glowing ball behind the hills, and there was in -the air an extraordinary stillness which produced a depressing effect -upon her spirits. - -The recent visits of Captain Colville and Sir Redmond Sleath, on the -one hand, and the cold and haughty demeanour of Lady Dunkeld and her -daughter, on the other, had begun to impress upon her the necessity -for making a change in their little household, and having some -pleasant, motherly, and elderly lady to reside with them as a -chaperone; and her mind was full of thought on this matter when Dr. -Wodrow was announced. She welcomed him with pleasure, as usual, all -unaware that he was the bearer of tidings that would render all her -plans for the future unavailing! - -He noticed the cloud on Mary's face through her smile of welcome, -and, taking her hand kindly in his own, he said, - -'Mary dear, is there anything you particularly dread?' - -'How strange that you should ask me this,' replied Mary, 'for I am -rather ashamed to say that I feel as if something of evil were about -to happen--but the emotion is vague and undefined.' - -'Then you believe in presentiments?' - -'I do--sometimes--do not you, Dr. Wodrow?' - -'I am afraid I do,' said he, with increasing kindness and gravity of -manner. 'So Robert and Ellinor have completely quarrelled?' - -'I fear so.' - -'George Eliot says that "Every man who is not a monster, a -mathematician, or a moral philosopher is the slave of some woman or -other." But I came not to speak of Robert, poor fellow, but of -something concerning yourself.' - -'Of me!' said Mary, startled by the growing gravity of his manner. - -'Yourself and Ellinor! I have wanted much to see you all day, my -dear.' - -'Why?' - -'I have news for you.' - -'Good news or bad?' - -'Bad, I grieve to say, my dear bairn,' said he, as he paused again -with something pitiful in his handsome old face, while Mary's colour -changed, and her heart began to beat quicker with pain and -apprehension. - -'Have you had a letter from a Mr. Luke Sharpe?' - -'No--who is he?' - -'A lawyer--a writer to the signet in Edinburgh--who is the legal -agent of your cousin Wellwood.' - -'What is all this to me--to us?' - -'Your uncle is dead. Your cousin is the next male heir--heir of -entail--so Birkwoodbrae, and everything else of which your uncle died -possessed that is entailed, goes to him, and you and Ellinor can -reside here no longer--so Mr. Sharpe has written me.' - -He evidently said this with an effort--with manifest difficulty, and -as if he dreaded to look in the face of Mary, who for some moments -felt as if stunned, and gazed at the lawyer's letter, which he placed -before her, as she would at a serpent, and scarcely taking in its -meaning. - -'Understand me, child. Your father's elder brother, who permitted -you to live unmolested here--as Birkwoodbrae was but a moiety of the -entailed property--is dead, and young Wellwood, the guardsman of whom -Captain Colville spoke so often, claims all.' - -'And we must go away?' said Mary, in a low, strange, wailing voice, -all unlike her own. - -'Away--yes--but where?' - -'God only knows!' - -And as she spoke the girl wrung her slender interlaced fingers, while -the old minister kindly patted her head, as he had often done in her -childhood. After a pause, Mary said, in a voice broken more than -once by a hard dry sob, - -'Our uncle in Australia would seem to have died months ago according -to this letter, yet we only hear of the event now.' - -'Yes.' - -'And we have been living here in another person's house, though we -deemed it our own--another person's, and not thinking of rent?' she -added, bitterly. - -'Yes.' - -Mary thought the doctor took the matter somewhat placidly, and felt -indignation mingle with her grief. - -'And for the roof that covered us, Ellinor and I have actually been -indebted for months to our cousin Wellwood, the cold-blooded son of a -cold-blooded father, who died at feud with ours, and amid the whirl -of London life never troubled himself about our existence, even when -we were left as orphan girls upon the world. So we have been living -here in dear, dear Birkwoodbrae in a fool's paradise, after -all--after all!' continued Mary, with growing bitterness of tone and -heart. - -'"The paradise of fools--to few unknown," as Milton has it,' said the -doctor, sententiously. - -'To turn us out of Birkwoodbrae is nothing less than the most cruel -injustice!' resumed Mary, with anger. - -'But legal. It is the law of entail.' - -'Birkwoodbrae is twice as valuable now as it was when poor papa -settled here, some twenty years ago, and he and we have made it so. -It is hard, it is bitter, our home--our dear home--we have known no -other; and so near where they lie--papa and mamma--so near this house -in which I closed their eyes.' - -'I doubt not that if your cousin Wellwood were properly appealed -to----' - -'We should die rather than appeal to him!' interrupted Mary, -impetuously, while stamping her little foot upon the floor. 'To do -so would be enough to make papa turn in his grave. Though -Birkwoodbrae is inexpressibly dear to Ellinor and to me. Papa used -to say of cousin Wellwood as a boy, though he never saw him, that he -was a puzzle to the whole family.' - -'How, Mary?' - -'Well, as--as--like a treacherous cuckoo's egg that is dropped into a -sparrow's nest and becomes a puzzle to the poor sparrow, which -wonders and compares it with her own little brood.' - -'What an odd simile, my dear,' said Dr. Wodrow, his face actually -rippling over with a smile brighter than Mary relished under the -circumstances, and recalled the aphorism of that unpleasant fellow, -J. J. Rousseau, that many people feel an internal satisfaction at the -troubles of even their best friends. - -'Then you will not trust a little to humanity and to Wellwood?' - -'Death were preferable, I repeat!' exclaimed Mary, though her tears -were falling fast now. - -'Consider--blood is thicker than water, among us in Scotland -particularly.' - -'Ellinor and I will never stoop so low,' replied Mary, alternately -interlacing her fingers in her lap, and mechanically caressing the -head of Jack, who had placed his nose on her knee, and regarded her -wistfully with his great black eyes, as if he knew instinctively that -something distressed his mistress by the expression of her face. - -'Well, what will be, will be!' said Dr. Wodrow, from his fatalist or -Presbyterian point of view, as he cast his eye upward to the ceiling. - -Mary heard his voice as one hears in a dream. The flies buzzed in -the window curtains, the last of the birds still twittered about -among the climbing creepers at the open sash, the roses sent forth -their fragrance still, and the drooping foliage of the silver birches -was gently stirred by the soft evening breeze. - -The old clock ticked loudly on the mantelpiece--unnaturally so--as -Mary thought it seemed to do 'when mamma and papa died;' but when the -minister urged again that she should attempt to temporise, - -'No,' she exclaimed, emphatically, 'we shall not accept a farthing or -a farthing's worth of what belonged to our common ancestors. It -would ill become Colonel Wellwood's daughters to do so now.' - -'Lady Dunkeld, I doubt not, has great influence with your cousin -Wellwood.' - -'She knows him, then?' - -'Yes; people in "Society," as it is called, all know something of -each other.' - -'And you would have me seek his interest through her? Enough of -this, dear Dr. Wodrow. I think you should know me better,' said -Mary, covering her eyes with white and tremulous fingers, as if she -would thrust back her tears. - -'The recognition of the inevitable in human affairs often brings -composure when all else fails, we read somewhere,' said the minister. - -'Whatever _is_, is doubtless best, and this apparent stroke of evil -fortune may--nay, must be so,' said Mary; 'yet it is hard to bear -just now--hard to bear.' - -Dr. Wodrow regarded her bowed head with a soft, kind, and admiring -smile. - -'All will come right in the end, dear Mary,' said he, confidently, -and then added, almost laughingly, 'I am sure Captain Colville's -advice may prevail with you; and he will be back before I can return -from Edinburgh, whither I must go on the morrow morning early. - -Mary's pallor increased at the mention of Captain Colville's name; -but she said, firmly and doggedly, - -'He is the last man in the world whose advice I would seek.' - -But before the well-meaning old minister came back from his journey -the crisis in the sisters' affairs seemed ended and over. - -At last he was gone, and Mary sat for a time in the twilighted old -dining-room as one who was stunned or in a dream, while the beloved -and reverend figures of her dead parents seemed once again to occupy -in fancy their favourite places by the hearth. - -The good old honest furniture of the room was all of the 'old -school,' and had been familiar to her from her childhood; the vast -sofa with its wide arms and cosy cushions; the dark mahogany -sideboard that was like a mural monument, with two urn-like -knife-boxes thereon, and over which hung an old, old circular convex -mirror, surmounted by an eagle with a glass ball in its beak. The -horsehair chairs were ranged in rank and file along the wall; and all -these household features spoke to Mary's heart so much of the past -and of home that the details of the room gave her a sensation of -acute agony, as she caught them at a glance and covered her face with -her hands. - -She tried to realise the new life--the homeless life--that must lie -before her and Ellinor now, and the rocks, the shoals, and pitfalls -that too probably would be ahead. - -Her first emotion of relief--if it could be called so--came when she -shared her grief with the startled Ellinor; and far into the August -night sat the two crushed creatures talking over the storm-cloud that -had so suddenly enveloped them--a cloud that must have descended at -some time, though as yet they had not quite foreseen it. - -'I cannot believe it--I cannot realise it!' said they both, -conjunctly and severally, again and again, as they mingled their -tears and caresses together, each clinging to the other as if for -consolation and help. - -'What on earth will become of us!' exclaimed Ellinor, pushing back -the masses of dark brown hair from her forehead. - -'We shall go away, and at once, in search of a new home--a little -nest somewhere far away from all who know us, Ellinor; for the -condolence, the wonder, surmises, and pity of neighbours would prove -intolerable to me!' exclaimed Mary. 'We shall have to put our -shoulders to the wheel, as poor papa used to say when in money -straits. I must turn my French and music to account.' - -'And I my drawing,' said Ellinor. - -'Yes, dearest,' added Mary, kissing her, 'my few accomplishments will -require some brushing up, but your pencil is always a ready one; and -people never know what they can do till they try. But then, -Birkwoodbrae--dear, bonnie Birkwoodbrae--to think we shall never see -it more!' exclaimed Mary, relapsing into a storm of grief again; -after which she became more composed, and began resolutely to think -of the future that must be faced--the future which would necessarily -begin for them on the morrow; and as Mary was by nature independent -and self-reliant, as she thought on the pittance left them by their -father, she said that, by God's help, they might battle with the -world yet; and battle with it too in London. - -The human mind, it has been said, is naturally pliable, and, provided -it has the most slender hope to lean upon, adapts itself to the -exigencies of fortune, especially if the imagination be a gay and -luxuriant one. - -The dreary night of their new and great sorrow wore on till the small -hours of the morning came, and at last the sisters slept; and 'sleep -is a generous robber that gives in strength what it takes in time.' - -So the worthy old minister had gone to Edinburgh. - -Mary conceived not unnaturally that this visit to the Scottish -metropolis meant one to Mr. Luke Sharpe with reference to her cousin -Wellwood, and the monetary affairs of herself and Ellinor; but she -was determined on having no temporising, no patronage, or -half-measure from that quarter; and resolved to leave Birkwoodbrae -and to go forth to find another home in another land, and to this end -she began restlessly, but resolutely, to take the means at once. - -Strange to say, Ellinor, the romantic and volatile, did not seemed so -much cast down after a time. She had her own secret hopes, thoughts, -and ambition, in which Mary had no share, or of which she had no -exact knowledge as yet; but to the latter to leave Birkwoodbrae, to -see no more the kind old folks at the cosy manse; to see no more her -pensioners, her feathered pets, and flowers, the hills, the glen, the -rockbound stream, and the 'siller birks' that shaded it--to be far -away from all and everything that was dear--to lose, more than all, -the dawning love of her young heart--was indeed a catastrophe -hitherto unlooked for, and at times her soul seemed to die within -her. But she was more often in those moods to which the young are -said to be subject in time of trouble--'in which the existing alone -seems unendurable, and anything better than what is.' - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -MARY'S PREPARATIONS. - -Greatly to the chagrin of Lady Dunkeld, there seemed no chance of -extracting a proposal from Captain Colville, the rumour of whose -engagement to her daughter was simply provincial gossip, and as for -Sir Redmond Sleath, for certain cogent reasons of his own, perhaps he -dared not make one, even if dazzled by the fair Blanche Galloway. - -The invitation to Craigmhor seemed to be a failure as yet, so far as -the former was concerned, for after the shooting began on the 12th of -August, when not on the moors, he spent much of his time most -provokingly immersed in correspondence concerning the property to -which he had succeeded and his peerage claim--both circumstances that -greatly enhanced his value in the eyes of such a match-making mother -as my Lady Dunkeld. - -He was often found closeted in consultation with Doctor Wodrow, with -whom he seemed to stand high in favour, and it was noted that they -always separated in high good humour; so the supposition was, that -the latter was seeking the wealthy Guardsman's good offices for his -son Robert. What other matter could they have in hand? - -Lady Dunkeld was therefore not sorry when Captain Colville took his -temporary departure to shoot in the forest of Alyth, trusting to a -change on his return. - -If she had flattered herself that, amid the somewhat secluded life -all led at Craigmhor, any fancy Colville had for Blanche would -speedily manifest itself, she was doomed to disappointment--angry -disappointment, and worse; for, if the stories Mademoiselle Rosette -told were true, the captain had spent somewhat too much of his time -wandering, rod in hand, on the banks of the May, and tarrying for -afternoon tea at Birkwoodbrae. - -The result of all this was that Mary and Ellinor had become painfully -conscious that many who were their friends before had now begun to -view them coldly and distantly, why or wherefore, in their innocence, -they knew not, because they were ignorant of malevolent hints -regarding them dropped to chance visitors at Craigmhor, by elevation -of the eyebrows, shrugs of the shoulder, or the impatient wave of a -fan, if their names were mentioned; the ladies there--mother and -daughter--were leaving nothing undone to injure them in the -estimation of all, and even spoke of them as 'young women who were -above doing their duty in that state of life to which Providence had -called them.' - -A consciousness of all this added to their new mortification, and -increased their anxiety to be gone, and they worked away at their -arrangements in a species of suppressed excitement, and Dr. Wodrow -was still in Edinburgh. - -It was neither a Sacramental Fast-day nor a Sunday at Birkwoodbrae, -yet a strange stillness, as if death were there again, brooded over -all the place; the house with its roses and creepers, the garden with -its now untended flowers, the empty meadow, and the lovely silver -birches; and poor Robert Wodrow, as sadly he approached the house for -the last time, felt conscious of this as he passed, and with a bitter -sigh looked around him. - -Even Jack's bark was unheard; the scythe lay among the rich clover, -the gate that led to the highway stood wide open, and near it -lingered some cottar people, with mouths agape, old and young, with -grave and anxious faces, even with tears, for some of the young -girls' 'belongings' had already been sent away, the gazers knew not -where. - -Something strange they thought had come to pass, yet the sunshine of -the first of September lay golden on the woods, the pastures, the -cattle, and the flower-gardens, though beneath was a great shadow -like that of death over all, and Robert Wodrow, impressionable at all -times, felt it; for the sisters were on the eve of departure, and -another day or two--so quickly had Mary's preparations been -made--would see all ended. - -The bright sunshine of the autumn evening was touching, we have said, -with fiery light the smooth silver stems of the tall birch-trees, and -the birds still sang sweetly under the feather-like foliage that hung -gracefully downward, unstirred by the faintest breeze, when, looking -from an open window on the scene she loved so well, Mary Wellwood -paused in the bitter task of making up a list of their household -effects ere she left the roof of Birkwoodbrae for ever. After she -was fairly gone, a letter to Dr. Wodrow would inform him of all their -wishes, she was thinking, when suddenly Robert stood by her side, and -put an arm kindly round her. - -'Why, you will kill yourself with all this work and anxiety; dear -Mary, let me help you,' said he. - -'I am nearly done,' said she, wearily, and with a quivering lip; -'there are but a few relics, books and so forth, I wish to keep----' - -'Leave it with me; save you, Mary, and the old folks at the manse, I -have no one left to care for now.' - -'Poor Robert!' said she, kissing his cheek, for she knew his meaning -well. - -No one can 'minister to a mind diseased' like a mother, it has been -said; but Mrs. Wodrow, to her sorrow, had signally failed to so -minister to her son Robert. - -'And you have failed at the University, Robert?' said Mary, after a -pause. - -'Utterly!' - -'How--and why?' - -'I don't know--at the last moment, somehow,' said he, despondently, -looking down on the carpet. - -'Ellinor, no doubt, was the cause?' said Mary, softly. - -He smiled bitterly, but made no reply. - -'You will try again, Robert dear?' said Mary, patting his hand. - -'Never, Mary,' he replied, in a low, husky voice; 'God only knows how -I toiled and toiled, at botany, anatomy, and chemistry--Balfour and -Quain and Miller, and with _what_ object; but I have taken my last -shot, and shall grind no more.' - -'And what do you mean to do, Robert?' - -'Heaven knows--you will hear in time, Mary.' - -She eyed him wistfully and sorrowfully, and then said, - -'After your quarrel with Ellinor----' - -'Don't call it a quarrel, Mary--say coldness. Well?' - -'It is very kind of you to take the trouble to come here now.' - -'Kind--trouble; why, what has come to you, Mary, that you speak thus, -and to _me_? A farewell letter might have done, but I--I preferred -to come to the old place once again.' - -'Pardon me, Robert, but I am so crushed--so confused--that I scarcely -know what I say.' - -'But is the step you are about to take absolutely necessary, and in -such hot haste too?' - -'What step?' asked Mary, as if to delay the bitterness of the -admission. - -'Leaving Birkwoodbrae! I can't make out the mystery of it at all!' - -'Alas! we must go; this house was never ours--we dwelt here on -sufferance; and the place is another's now--another whom we know only -by name and in family feud.' - -'Can it be that God's world belongs only to rascals!' exclaimed young -Wodrow, bitterly. - -'Well, the rich and cruel seem to thrive best, for a time at least,' -said Mary, a little infected by his mood. - -'But to go away so far--so far as London?' he urged, with an air of -bewilderment. - -'The further the better now, Robert.' - -'But the idea of making your own livelihood in that awful human -wilderness, you and Ellinor, seems so strange--so perilous and -unnatural.' - -'Why so--don't thousands work?' - -'And starve and die of broken hearts!' - -'Robert, you are not encouraging.' - -'I would that I could be so.' - -'We must make the attempt as others do and have done. We are -well-nigh penniless now; without Birkwoodbrae and its accessories we -could not live alone on the pittance poor papa left us, and here we -could not add a penny to it. I don't think I am fit for much, -Robert,' continued Mary, sadly and humbly, with tears in her soft, -sweet eyes. 'No one will give me a high-class situation, my -education has been so very simple, and beyond a little music'--her -voice broke fairly now--'and Ellinor's pencil, she is very clever, -you know----' - -'I wish I could see this infernally grasping cousin of yours!' -surmised Robert, angrily and reflectively. - -'Don't think of it--I would not accept a favour from his father's -son; for that father was--through life--the enemy of mine!' - -'Why--and about what?' asked Robert. - -'Some quarrel about a lady in their youth, as subalterns, I believe.' - -'Oho--the old, old story!' said Robert, gnawing his nether lip, and -taking up his hat, but lingering still. - -'You will see Ellinor, Robert dear,' said Mary, timidly and -pleadingly. 'I can call her from her room--it will be for the last -time.' - -The cloud on young Wodrow's face deepened, as he said, in a low voice, - -'No, Mary--thank you--I dare not--would rather not see her again.' - -'Why?' asked Mary, taking his hands caressingly between her own. - -'All my love for her might--nay, would break out for her with renewed -force, for I am in some ways weak and unstable of purpose. Better -not--better not--never again--never again,' he muttered, huskily, and -Mary kissed him with her eyes full of tears, for just then her heart -was very sore indeed. - -'Besides, Mary, I have schooled myself for the future.' - -'And that _future_, Robert.' - -'You will learn in time. Curse that fellow,' he suddenly exclaimed, -his eyes flashing, as he referred to Sleath, 'what evil chance -brought him among us here? How I can recall his eyes, alternately -sleepy and shifty, and the air of would-be high-bred tolerance and -boredom with which he condescended to survey us all and everything -here!' - -In the gust of jealous anger that now possessed him, Mary knew that -it was useless to urge again that he should see Ellinor, and after -making her all offers of assistance and proffers of kindness, he -strode suddenly away, muttering to himself the lines of Edmondstoune -Aytoun. - - 'Woman's love is writ in water, - Woman's faith is traced in sand, - Backwards, backwards let me wander, - To the noble northern land.' - - -The little money that Mary could spare from what she had been able to -realise by the hasty sale of two pet cows and the stock of her -fowl-yard, she bestowed, as far as she could, upon Elspat and other -old servants, all of whom were bowed down with wonder, grief and -alarm at movements and changes so unexpected; and she felt that she -would be glad when the parting with all--the final wrench--was over. - -Between her and these subordinates there was a closer bond of -sympathy than usually exists between mistress and servant--even in -Scotland--now-a-days, and can scarcely be found south of the Tweed. -'My English readers,' says an English writer on this subject, 'will -probably ridicule such a feeling on the part of a servant, for the -majority of them are of the belief that money is the only connecting -link of a household. So long as wages are regularly paid and the -ordinary meals provided, a servant has only to do her duty properly, -and leaves it as utter a stranger as when she entered it. There is -no obligation on either side, and, if she goes, some one will be -found to take her place.' - -But it is not quite so yet in the kindly north country, especially -the further north we go; for the influences of the old feudal system, -and of the still older and dearer ties of clanship, linger among the -hills and glens, knitting all ranks and conditions of men together, -and long, long may they continue to do so. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -ON THE BRINK. - -Of a more nervous organisation than Mary, Ellinor, suffering from -reaction of spirits and a keen sense of all she had recently -undergone, was far from well, and, amid the bustle of preparation for -departure, remained much in the seclusion of her own room. - -It was September now, we have said. The autumnal weather and -autumnal tints had come somewhat early, and occasional showers -brought coolness and freshness to the birchen woods, and pleasant -odours came from them and even from the dusty highway and the parched -meadows, where the rich after-grass was ready for the scythe, and the -grouse on the Perthshire hills had become but too fatally familiar -with the crack and clatter of the breech-loader in the heathery glens. - -Mary Wellwood had of late worked hard, very hard, rising earlier and -going to bed later--so much so that her sweet face was beginning to -look thin and careworn, and old Elspat remonstrated that she did not -give herself time to take her meals, but 'was for ever think, think, -thinking and worrying over accounts and market-books.' - -She had neither Dr. Wodrow nor Robert to advise or assist her then. -The former was detained in Edinburgh on clerical or other business, -and the latter absented himself for obvious reasons; so Mary worked -alone, but no new or growing cares could change the sweet and grave -expression of her face or the calm steadfastness of her violet eyes, -yet a startled expression certainly came into them when one evening -Captain Colville was suddenly ushered in upon her, looking so -handsome, brown, and ruddy from exposure among the hills. - -There flashed upon Mary's mind the time, but a short space ago, when -she had been thinking of a chaperone for herself and Ellinor: but all -was changed since then, and there would be no need of one now. - -He had just returned that morning from shooting in the forest of -Alyths had heard a rumour of their approaching departure, which the -half-dismantled aspect of the drawing-room seemed to confirm. Why -was it so? - -He spoke so pleasantly and sympathetically as he seated himself near -her, and she felt all the glamour of his proximity, of his presence, -and her breast heaved tumultuously in spite of herself. She became -nervous, and her eyes suffused deeply. - -'Tears, Miss Wellwood?' said he, inquiringly. - -'We are going far away, Captain Colville--leaving this place for -ever.' - -'I have heard something of it; but why leave Birkwoodbrae?' he asked, -smilingly. - -Mary told him why. - -'And, on leaving, whither do you mean to go?' - -'London.' - -'Is that not a rash scheme?' - -'When the will is strong the heart is willing; and we never know what -a day may bring forth.' - -He gazed down upon her tenderly, admiringly, and, making a half -effort to take her hand, paused and said, - -'You surely did not mean to spend all your life in this old -tumbledown place, Miss Wellwood?' - -'Don't call it tumbledown, please,' said Mary. - -'I beg your pardon; but----' - -'It is very dear to me, as the place where they lived and died,' -interrupted Mary, with a little break in her voice. - -'They--who?' - -'Papa and mamma. It seems like yesterday when he died in the room -above us, and when he said in a low, weak voice--"Don't cry, Mary -darling--don't cry so; our separation is only for a time;" and then -added, "Is that the daybreak?" "No," said I. "It is--it is--and _so -bright_!" he exclaimed, and then died. Oh, Captain Colville, the -light he saw must have been that of the other world, for just as he -expired the clock struck midnight, and the lamp was burning very low.' - -'Poor old gentleman! But take courage,' said Colville, with a soft -smile, as he patted her shoulder; 'you have not yet left -Birkwoodbrae.' - -'What can he mean by this!' thought Mary, with a slight sense of -annoyance, as she woke up from her dark dreamland. - -'And your father, the colonel--he--he--pardon me, left you little -more than Birkwoodbrae when he died?' - -'His blessing was the best he had: Birkwoodbrae, I have said, was not -his to leave. We have lived here on sufferance--Ellinor and I.' - -Colville sat for a time silent, and Mary thought his question a very -strange one, unless he had a deeper interest in them both than she -thought he could possibly have; and, still pursuing a personal theme, -he said, - -'I have heard from Dr. Wodrow that his son Robert was your sister's -admirer, and that they have quarrelled. Is not this to be regretted?' - -'Regretted indeed!' - -'You always seemed interested in him.' - -'As Ellinor's lover--yes.' - -'I always thought he was _yours_.' - -'Mine--who said so?' - -'Miss Galloway, repeatedly.' - -'She had no authority for any such statement,' said Mary, upon whom a -kind of light was beginning to break, and Colville drew a little -nearer, as he seemed very much disposed to take up the thread of the -'old story' where he had left it off on the afternoon when he carved -their initials on the tree, carried off the bunch of berries, and -gave her in exchange the bouquet of Blanche Galloway, before he went -to Alyth. - -'Is it not strange, Captain Colville,' said Mary, 'that day after day -passes, and yet we hear nothing more of this new heir--this usurper -of our poor little home--or of any special notice to quit -Birkwoodbrae?' - -'Amid the world he lives in, he may forget.' - -'He and his father before forgot us always. But still, there is one -patrimony of which he cannot deprive us--one near the churchyard -wall!' said Mary, bitterly. 'However, things are at the worst with -us now, and they will be sure to mend.' - -He was observing the rare delicacy of her hand, as she caressed the -head of Jack resting on her knee. - -'How you must loathe that cousin!' said he. - -'Oh, no! Heaven forbid! He has never done us any active harm; yet -we Wellwoods are very unforgiving in our feuds.' - -'So it would seem.' - -'I must never, never see him, and am most anxious to get away before -he comes here, if he cares at all to visit so poor a place.' - -'He might fall in love with you--nay, would be sure to do so,' said -Colville, stooping nearer her, and lowering his voice. 'Love, with -cousinship, soon develops, and he might marry you.' - -'I would not marry him if there was not another man in the world!' -exclaimed Mary, reddening in positive anger, with a choking and half -smothered sob in her throat; and Colville laughed excessively at her -increased but momentary annoyance at his suggestion, which indeed was -far from being an unnatural one. - -'If he saw you, he would certainly leave you in undisturbed -possession of Birkwoodbrae.' - -'A speech meant to be gallant; but he shall not see me if I can help -it.' - -He laughed again, and Mary felt piqued. - -'From what I hear of all the matter,' he began, 'from what I know of -you----' - -'Of me, Captain Colville--what can you know of _me_?' asked Mary, -almost petulantly. - -'Shall I say, then, from what I know of your cousin Wellwood----' - -'Well--quick; from what you know of him?' - -'Which I do as well as one fellow can know another in the same -battalion, I am sure he would never dispossess so charming--two such -charming cousins.' - -'Indeed! you have said something like this already.' - -'Would you not write to him and ask--' - -'Emphatically--no!' - -'Allow me, then?' asked Colville, in his most persuasive tone. - -'Never! I--we shall be beholden to none! I thought, small as it is, -that Birkwoodbrae was almost our patrimony; it proves to be his, so -let him have it.' - -'And you----' - -'Have the world wide before me,' she replied, with a quiver of her -sweet upper lip; 'with us--Ellinor and me--it may be as in -_Strathallan's Lament_-- - - "Ruin's wheel has driven o'er us, - Not a hope may now attend; - The world wide is all before us, - But a world without a friend." - - -'Heaven! I hope not,' said he. - -'Why does he continue on this distasteful subject,' thought Mary, -'unless to prolong the conversation?' - -He now proceeded to pat Jack's head. and as he did so his hand came -more than once in contact with hers, and each touch sent a thrill to -his heart, while with that mysterious instinct which tells a girl of -the emotions with which she is inspiring an admirer, Mary, without -turning her head, knew that the fond gaze of Leslie Colville was bent -upon her. - -What did he mean? To desert Blanche Galloway, or was he simply -amusing himself with her, or with both? Her pride revolted at the -idea. However, their acquaintanceship would soon be at an end, as he -would be leaving like herself; and as if he divined her thoughts, he -said something of his approaching departure. - -'I hope you will have some pleasant memories to carry away with you?' -said Mary, and then she could have bitten her tongue for making the -surmise, and added, 'I shall have none but sad ones--though Invermay -is so lovely.' - -'Yes; but there are some memories of it that will ever be dear to -me--the hours I have spent here at Birkwoodbrae.' - -If he was betraying himself, he paused, and Mary could feel how her -heart was vibrating. - -For a moment her long dark lashes flickered as she glanced at him -timidly, and thought how happy his avowed love would make her was he -at liberty to do so; and she remembered that when he was away at -Alyth how she had felt a void in her heart, till adversity brought -her other things to think of. - -As Colville looked down on the ripples of the girl's golden hair and -on her saddened face, a great pity that was allied with something -warmer and dearer stirred his heart, and bending over her downcast -head, he lightly touched her hair with his lips. - -'Poor child!' said he, and Mary drew haughtily back. She saw there -was a smile on his face; it was a very fond one, but she misjudged -it, and felt assured that no lover would smile at such a time. Thus -his manner perplexed her, so she said, - -'Do not forget yourself, Captain Colville, and that you are engaged -to Miss Galloway.' - -'Engaged--to--Miss Galloway!' be repeated, with genuine surprise and -annoyance. 'Not at all. Who on earth put that into your little -head?' he added, with a laugh. - -'Mrs. Wodrow always told me so,' replied Mary, covered with -confusion, but feeling very happy nevertheless. - -'Silly, gossiping old woman! No, Miss Wellwood: I am, thank Heaven, -a free man--as yet.' - -Here was a revelation--if true. - -He was gazing on her now with eyes that were full of admiration and -ardour, while the clasp of his hand seemed to infuse through her -veins some of the force and love that inspired him. In the glance -they exchanged each read the other's secret, and he drew her towards -him and kissed her. 'There are moments in life,' it is said, 'when -joy makes us afraid: and this was one'--to Mary at least, and she -shrank back--all the more quickly and confusedly that a visitor was -approaching; and a half-suppressed malediction hovered on the lips of -Colville as the portly Mrs. Wodrow was ushered in--ushered in at that -moment! - -He rose with annoyance, and still retaining Mary's hand in his, said -hurriedly, and in a low tone, with a little laugh that was assumed to -cover her confusion, - -'Promise me that in the matter of leaving Birkwoodbrae you will do no -more till I see you again _to-morrow_.' - -'I promise,' replied Mary, trembling very much, and scarcely knowing -what she said; and, bowing to Mrs. Wodrow, Colville took his -departure, while the pressure of his hand seemed to linger on Mary's -heart. 'Who does not know,' says the authoress of 'Nadine,' 'the -magnetic thrill--the strange and subduing sense of soul-communion, -which sometimes lingers in a hand-clasp;' and with this thrill in her -veins Mary addressed herself to the task of talking commonplace to -old Mrs. Wodrow. - -He had been on the brink of a proposal without doubt, yet none had -been made. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX; - -THE DEPARTURE. - -To-morrow came, and the next day, and the next, but there was no sign -of, or letter from, Captain Colville, so Mary resumed her -arrangements all the more briskly and bitterly. - -Ellinor had heard of his interview with Mary, and felt much tender -interest and concern. Had he spoken of Sir Redmond Sleath, or his -movements, she marvelled sorely; but failed to ask. - -Meanwhile May's recent thoughts were of a very mingled and somewhat -painful kind. The memory of his great tenderness of manner, of the -kiss he had snatched, and the assertion that he was not the _fiancé_ -of Blanche Galloway were all ever before her in constant iteration, -with the consciousness that no distinct avowal had preceded, and no -proposal had followed the episode. - -A kiss! Their lips had met but once, yet the memory of such a -meeting often abides for ever. - -'How dared he kiss me! Why did I not prevent him?' she thought, -while her cheeks burned, and the conviction that he had been only -amusing himself with her grew hourly stronger in her heart. She -remembered, too, that he had laughed once or twice during the most -earnest parts of her conversation about her troubles, and she thought -that most people could hear of the misfortunes of others with -tolerable equanimity. - -Was he really engaged to Blanche Galloway after all? and was she the -means of preventing the promised visit on 'the morrow'--the visit -that never took place? - -His visit to Birkwoodbrae on the very day of his return from Alyth -was certainly duly reported to that young lady by Mademoiselle -Rosette, who had watched and followed him--and smiled brightly as she -did so--for where is the French soubrette to be found who does not -feel a malicious pleasure in knowing that her master or her mistress -is being deceived? - -The first day of Colville's absence after that thrilling visit -dragged wearily on, and, when evening came and the sun set, Mary -marvelled was it eight hours since she rose that morning. It looked -more like eight hundred, and still longer looked the days that -followed, till anger began to mingle with her depression, anxiety, -and sense of unmerited humiliation, all of which enhanced her desire -to be gone. - -How little could she conceive that, wounded in the right hand by the -explosion of a friend's fowling-piece when shooting, he was confined -at first to bed, and then to his room at Craigmhor; that he was thus -unable to write to or communicate with her; and that thus, too, -probably she would never see him again, for by the evening of the -third day the arrangements for the departure of Ellinor and herself -were finally completed. - -'Would that I could peep into our future, Mary,' said Ellinor, -tearfully, on their last evening in their old home. - -'Ah! the future is indeed a mystery to us,' said Mary; 'but blessed -be God for all His gifts!' she added, in a broken voice, as she -thought of the legend over the old doorway, through which they would -pass no more. - -Many relics were packed and sent to the manse, there to be kept till -better times came; everything else was left in care of the still -absent Dr. Wodrow, to be sold for their behoof; but, for reasons to -be given, strange to say, nothing was _sold_. - -Though the apparently strange conduct of Captain Colville in teaching -her to love him, and exciting brilliant hopes in her heart only to -let them fade, had so deeply mortified Mary that already his image -was passing out of her busy thoughts, or seemed as only something to -be forgotten as soon as possible, she was not without strong though -vague hope of the future for Ellinor and herself; but hope has often -been likened to the mirage of the desert, and as being often quite as -illusory. - -Ellinor, we have said, had thanked heaven for her escape from what -must have proved a great and perilous _esclandre_; yet by one of -those idiosyncracies of the female heart she also thanked heaven that -London was to be the place of their exile; Sir Redmond was there, no -doubt, and she felt assured that he loved her still. Mighty though -the modern Babylon was--and of that mightiness she had not the -slightest conception--they might meet again; and even, if not, it -would be pleasant to walk in the same streets where he walked or -rode; to breathe the same air that was breathed by him: to be in the -same place where _he_ was. - -So she had, to enliven the path before her, a little element of -romance that was unknown to, and denied to the poor but more -practical Mary; and to her, foolish girl, it seemed that perhaps the -dear old tale might conclude, after all, with wedding bells and vows -of wedded love. - -Why she should have indulged in these dreams it is difficult to say. -Days upon days had passed, and, like Colville, the impassioned -baronet, with whom she had been on the point of sharing her future, -gave no sign, and she could make none. But she was yet to learn -that; all the fine old Grandisonian notions of honour and delicacy -towards woman held by our grandfathers were exploded, or else deemed -absolutely antediluvian and absurd.' - -Now she longed to be gone--gone even from Birkwoodbrae. 'She wanted -to see life' (she thought), 'as poets and painters and young ladies -picture it--a sort of misty, delicious paradisiacal existence of -excitement, unfailing amusement, and perpetual delight.' - -The old peace of mind was gone; she wished to leave all connected -with it behind; and, poor girl, she little knew what was before -her--it might be of penury, struggle, and despair! - -Every movement, as the hour of departure approached, brought a fresh -pang to the tender heart of Mary. She had parted with her pets and -household cares. Her tame owl she had cast loose, and she watched -him as he winged his way back to his eyrie in the ruined tower, from -which Robert Wodrow in happier times had brought him. - -Wearily and sadly she had all the dear familiar spots, and the -cottars who dwelt among them, to visit for the last time--hard and -shrivelled hands to press and children to kiss. How should she ever -get through it all? - -She picked up a few daisies from the graves where her parents lay, -and placed them between the leaves of her Bible, and then it seemed -as if there was nothing more to do. - -The evening seemed painfully sweet and silent and still when the -sisters quitted their home for the last time, and to Mary it seemed -that even 'the grasshoppers were silent in the grass.' - -The keys were to be handed over by Elspat Gordon to a clerk of Mr. -Luke Sharpe's when he chose to come for them. Elspat received the -instructions drowned in tears, and as a spell against evil put in her -pocket some grains of wheat, as it is, or was, a superstition in -Scotland that in every grain there is the representation of a human -face, said to be that of the Saviour, and hence the efficacy of the -spell. - -In the railway-carriage Jack crouched at Mary's feet, and, looking up -in her eyes, whined and whimpered, for dogs have strange instincts. -All that was left to the sisters of Birkwoodbrae was the bunch of -freshly-gathered roses which each carried in her hand, and many times -did Mary bury her hot and tear-stained face among their cool and -fragrant leaves. - -'Good-bye!' she whispered in her heart to many an inanimate but -familiar object, as it seemed to fly past and vanish, till the -darkness of descending night shrouded all the scenery. Then Mary -closed her eyes, and strove to think, while the clanking train glided -swiftly and monotonously on. - -The past, the present, and the future, so far as Colville was -concerned, seemed to have melted into thinest air; or perhaps the -past alone, with its brief life and glow of love and hope, thrust -itself poignantly forward. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -THE HEIR OF ENTAIL. - -The sudden departure of the sisters from Birkwoodbrae, few knew -precisely for where, caused something like consternation--at least, a -great deal of commiseration--in the place they had left behind them. -Their sweet, soft, ladylike faces and presence were missed erelong -from the pew in which they had sat on Sundays from childhood; -countless acts of kindness, goodness, charity, and benevolence were -remembered now and rehearsed by cottage hearths and 'ingle-lums' -again and again, and all deplored that the places which knew them -once would know them no more! - -When, two days after their departure, Captain Colville, with a -magnificent diamond ring for Mary, and intent on taking up the story -of his love where he had left it off, rode over to Birkwoodbrae, he -went in hot haste to the manse for intelligence, and then he and Dr. -Wodrow looked blankly in each other's face. - -'Gone--what does it all mean?' impetuously asked the captain, whose -wounded hand was in a black silk sling, and who looked pale and thin. - -'It simply means that they have abruptly left us, and we may never -see them again,' replied Dr. Wodrow, with unconcealed grief and -irritation. - -'Gone--gone!' exclaimed Colville, changing colour, or losing it -rather; 'why did I not sooner tell them who I was--why act the part I -did, and lure you into doing so, too?' - -'Ay--why, indeed,' groaned the poor minister. 'You see what strength -of character they both possess--Mary, certainly, at least.' - -'And they have left no address--no clue?' - -'None.' - -'Mary wrote a farewell note to Mrs. Wodrow, saying she had not the -heart to bid her good-bye verbally. Her friends of the past, she -wrote, were no longer for her now--she had a new sphere of action to -enter upon, a new life to lead, and new duties to fulfil, with much -more to the same purpose, and that erelong she would write from -London.' - -'London!' exclaimed Colville, striking his right heel on the floor. - -It would be an insult, perhaps, to the intelligence of the reader to -assume that he or she has not already suspected that Leslie Colville -and the encroaching cousin Leslie Wellwood were one and the same -person. Apart from his entailed property, he had succeeded to other -possessions, requiring him with reference to his peerage claim to add -to his own the name of Colville, and hence the _incognito_ he -had--for reasons of his own--been enabled to assume to his cousins, -to Mrs. Wodrow, and others, including even that very acute party Sir -Redmond Sleath. In short, save the minister, no one knew the part he -wished to play. - -'The little drama from which you promised yourself so much interest, -generous and romantic pleasure has been thoroughly overdone,' said -Dr. Wodrow, somewhat reproachfully. - -'Overdone, indeed!' - -'And doubtless has caused, and is causing great pain.' - -'Poor girl! Could I have believed that Mary----' - -'Possessed so much individuality, decision, and independence of -character.' - -'Most true; the drama has been overdone, but can be quickly amended -by a pleasant epilogue. And it would have been so some days ago but -for this wretched accident to my right hand, which prevented me from -writing to Mary or to you. Prejudiced, as you know, by my father -against them, I wished to learn the real disposition and character of -these girls before befriending them, as I intended to do; and, even -while learning to love Mary, I carried my romantic schemes too far. -Why the devil did we make all this mystery!' - -'_We_. It was your own suggestion and wish--not mine,' said Dr. -Wodrow, testily; 'and now they have anticipated everything by going -forth into the wide waste of the world and leaving us no clue.' - -Colville bit his nether lip, twisted his moustache, and remained -silent and perplexed. So the minister spoke again. - -'Captain Colville, I feared you meant to go on for ever playing at -cross-purposes with the poor girls. How I wish I had interposed, as -it was my duty to have done, ere it was too late; but you bound me to -secresy, as you know, and now they have gone far away, and with sore, -sore hearts, you may be assured.' - -And this secret, of which the Dunkeld family knew nothing, may -explain the curious and laughing manner of Dr. Wodrow when speaking -of Mr. Luke Sharpe the lawyer, and announcing to Mary the existence -and intentions of the heir of entail. - -'Poor Mary--poor darling!' said Colville, in a low voice. 'Why did I -play with her feelings and my own so long! Fool that I was not to -declare my love and propose to her on the spot?' - -'Ay, fool indeed!' commented Dr. Wodrow, roughly. 'Think of all this -worry, mischief, pain, and separation!' - -'In studying her character I shall have deceived her as to my own.' - -'She always seemed to think you were engaged to Miss Galloway.' - -'I know that now. Why did you not undeceive her?' - -'I had not your permission to move or explain in the matter.' - -'And we have parted like strangers almost! What must Mary have -thought of me--what can she think of me still?' - -'That you were only amusing yourself with her.' - -'Hence the strangeness and coolness of her manner towards me at -times. Oh, Dr. Wodrow, I never knew how much I loved that girl till -now!' exclaimed Colville, as he now realised fully in that time of -pain and surprise that Mary Wellwood was the one woman in all the -world for him. - -About her there was an originality which struck him. She was unlike -any other girl he had seen; she had a freshness and depth of thought -which delighted as much as her beauty bewildered him; and he must -have loved her as a cousin if he had not loved her as something more. - -And now she and Ellinor had gone--fled, as it were--to London in a -kind of desperation and sorrow, brought about by his own folly and -mismanagement--to London, of all places in the world for girls -ignorant of it--beautiful, helpless, and poor! - -'But they will soon discover the trick we have played them, Dr. -Wodrow,' said Colville, looking up after a silent pause. - -'How?' - -'If they look in the Army List they will see that there is only one -Wellwood in the Guards--myself, Leslie Wellwood Colville.' - -'That is where they will never think of looking,' replied Dr. Wodrow; -and he was right--the sisters never did; besides, Army Lists were -seldom in their way. - -'Had that confounded old gossip, Mrs. Wodrow, not come in at the time -she did all would have been explained--I was on the point of telling -my darling all!' thought Colville, bitterly and angrily; 'all would -have been so different now, and I should have won the confidence, as -I had evidently won the love of Mary Wellwood. And now to follow and -to find her!' - -'Where?' asked Dr. Wodrow, pithily and sharply. - -'True--true; I must be patient, and wait for tidings through you,' -said Colville, with something like a groan. 'By the by, doctor, your -son seems cut up about the departure of my cousins.' - -'No wonder, poor fellow--since boyhood Miss Ellinor was the apple of -his eye.' - -'Ellinor?' - -'Yes--and they both seemed happy enough in their hope of each other -till Sir Redmond Sleath came hovering about her.' - -Colville's face grew very dark. - -'I did not like your friend's character,' said the minister. - -'Friend--he was no friend of mine!' said Colville, bluntly. - -'I saw through him soon after he first came here; I have had my -experience of evil faces, and I could read his like a book.' - -'And what were his views regarding Ellinor?' - -'Matrimony, on the death of an uncle, I have heard, from whom he has -great expectations.' - -'He has no uncle by male or female side. This was some specious -falsehood!' exclaimed Colville, with knitted brows. - -'How do you know this?' - -'As you may know it--by looking in the Baronetage.' - -In the days that succeeded the departure of Mary and Ellinor most -eagerly were letters looked for at the manse of Kirktoun-Mailler, but -none came from either, though both sisters had promised to write -whenever they had found a new home, however temporary, and -periodically the path through the fields, by which the postman always -came, was watched by anxious eyes. - -How was this?--what had happened? were the constant surmises of Dr. -and Mrs. Wodrow, as they looked gravely in each other's face, while -more than once each day Colville came to the manse in hope of having -tidings. Were both ill--stricken down by some sudden ailment and -among strangers--they so gentle, so tenderly nurtured, and so refined -in nature? - -The doubt and perplexity were intolerable! And the upbraiding, -almost despairing looks of Dr. Wodrow cut Colville to the heart. - -With their departure by railway all clue was lost, and as the days -ran on to weeks the anxiety that preyed on the minds of the good -people at the manse became sore indeed, and to Colville, who knew -what London is, doubt was simply maddening! From the heir of entail -Mr. Luke Sharpe received instructions that everything was to remain -intact and untouched at Birkwoodbrae till the sisters should come -back and once more sit by its hearthstone; and old Elspat, who had -been installed there in charge, held for a time a kind of daily levee -of humble neighbours, whose inquiries, comments, and regrets were -reiterated and ever recurrent. - -But days, we have said, passed on and became weeks and more, and no -tidings came of the lost ones, for so those among the Birks of -Invermay began to consider them. - -Captain Colville had rejoined his regiment in London; Sir Redmond -Sleath was no one knew precisely where, and Robert Wodrow, whose evil -genius he had been, abandoning his studies in a kind of despair, had -disappeared. Thus a great gloom reigned over the old manse, and the -worthy descendant of the author of 'Analecta Scotica' could not find -in any page thereof a passage to soothe him in his great sorrow. - -With Colville's return to London a slight hope had grown in the old -minister's heart that he might be the means of casting a little light -on this painful mystery, but ere long that hope died away too. - -September stole on, and October came, with its red, yellow, and -russet autumnal hues; the leaves were falling on the empty air; hardy -apples yet hung in the otherwise bare orchards for the coming frosts -to ripen; dark berries clustered on the elder-trees; long rushes -waved in the wind by the banks of the May, which careered the same as -ever through its bed of rock towards the Earn; the call of the -partridge and the few notes uttered by the remaining birds of the -season came on the low sighing breeze; winter was close at hand, and -yet there came no tidings of Mary Wellwood or her sister. - - - -END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. - - - -LONDON: PRINTED BY DUNCAN MACDONALD, BLENHEIM HOUSE. - - - - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLVILLE OF THE GUARDS, VOLUME I (OF -3) *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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