"She is not ashire woman, surely? Her dialect is quite different."

"No; she is a Lowlander; our first acquaintanceship grew out of that. I found she knew my forbears, and could tell me long histories of the 'Auld Douglases.' She knows Cardenholm, too; but I think you never were there, Grace ?"

"No," said Grace. "I had been very little away from Glenruth until I went to Ashby. But you must know Cardenholmit is a fine place, is it not?"

Yes; it has fine timber and a beautiful glen; but it is a long time since I was there."

"Did you know the family?"

"I used to know them well-the elder ones that is-Basil and his sister. He and I

used to be playfellows. She is a good deal amiable

younger. Poor Basil! he is a a very

creature, and has a great deal of character,

though his appearance is so little in his

favour."

"Do you know," said Grace, "I liked his appearance better than his father's, though he is what would be called a handsome man. There was something so courteous about Mr. Livingstone-so unmistakeably gentlemanlike I did not think of it at the time, but have often recalled since the impression he left with me, though our intercourse was so very brief."

"He is a thorough gentleman," said Magdalen, "and his courtesy is of the highest order, springing from the heart-in honour preferring others. Basil Livingstone is a true Christian, and has more real humility than almost any one I ever knew."

CHAPTER XIV.

Two years later, I again found myself at Invercarron (I generally paid an annual visit), and this time the house was full of company. Lord and Lady Daventry, Captain Clavering, Miss Ferrars, and divers others who came and went. George Livingstone also, was at home, as well as those already known to you, the elements of a very agreeable party; yet, somehow things appeared to be out of joint, and it was sometime before I discovered what was The result, however, of much ob

wrong.

servation from the chimney-corner was this: No, dearest reader, on second thoughts, I will not tell you in so many words, that were an insult to your understanding, as if you could not form your own conclusions upon what I heard and saw; so let that suffice.

John Livingstone was pale and wan, and ill at ease of course he was over head and ears in love with Grace - they had been snowed up together at Invercarron all the winter, and how could he escape; and she, there was at times a troubled expression in her usually calm eye, that I had not observed formerly, though it often was sad and tearful. Doubtless, I said to myself, these two are in love. I saw how it would be; but how are they to marry, poor dears, it is out of the question, and I shook my head despondingly. Katherine was, apparently, in very high spirits; but it was not

all gold that glittered there, I could see that. Magdalen's pale face looked graver than usual; but then she had a voyage to India in prospect, that involved parting with her children. This explained also, the deeper shadow on Lady Livingstone's face, for to lose sight of Francis was nearly as severe a trial as she could know. At her age such separations are hard to bear; it is only youth who can think of meeting again. Poor Francis, too, felt probably that he might not return, or returning, might miss her from her accustomed place. I thought I could read some such thoughts as these, as I watched his look of earnest affection fixed on her face. But this did not account for the depth of George Livingstone's despondency, still less for the uncomfortable restlessness of Lady Daventry, kind-hearted, sympathising little soul, as I knew her to be. Meanwhile we all tried