A Daughter of Raasay

a plover cut the breaking day, the meadow larks piped clear above us in chorus with the trilling of the thrush,

enough to watch the colour come and go in her face, to hear the lilt of her voice, and to see the changing light in her eye. What though at times we were

lier of fashion, for on account of the hue and cry against me I had pocketed my pride and was travelling under an incognito. Nor did it comfort me one whit that Aileen also was furbished up in so

ll. Early I discovered that I had not appreciated fully her mental powers, on account of a habit she had of falling into a shy silence when several were present. She had a nimble wit, an alert fancy, and a zest for life as earnest as it was refresh

always inclined to be independent, of a romantical disposition, and herself young; as for Aileen, I doubt whether any thought of the conventions crossed her mind. Her people would be wearying to see her; her friend

dining-room. As I remember we were still uncommon merry, she showing herself very clever at odd quips and turns of expression. We found matter for jest in a large placard on the wall, with what purported to be a picture of me, the printed

d racy gossip to each other behind their fans. Famous beauties flitted hither and thither, beckoning languid fops with their alluring eyes. Wi

ould cry "Montagu!" when they clapped eyes on me. Here were Lord March, George Selwyn, Sir James Craven, Topham Beauclerc, and young Winton Westerleigh; Lady Di Davenport and the Countess Dowager of Rocksboro; the Hon. Isabel Stanford, Mistress Antoinette Westerleigh, and others as well known to me. They had taken us at unawares, and as Creagh would have put it in an Irish bul

of that confounded placard and began reading it aloud. Now I don't mind being described as "Tall, strong, well-built, and extremely good-looking; brown eyes and waving hair like ilk;

with himself," queried Beauc

March behind his hand. "I'll lay two to one i

hat he got safe across to France. Pity Volney didn't pink the fellow through the heart for his d--d im

a passover the Jews who hold his notes will n

up. His love for scandal and his facility for acquiring the latest tidbit made him the delig

n the best of authority and it comes direct, rot me if it doesn't! Sir Robert's man, Watkins, told Madame Bellevu

ssume it began with Adam and ended with a dam-with a descendant of his

'tis gospel truth,"

s to tell the truth for once he'll strangl

hen!" bullied

out-name of Gwynne and rich as Cr?sus-old enough to be a grandmother of either of 'em, begad! Volney had first claim and Montagu cut in; swore he'd marry her if she went o

r," agreed Lady Di coolly. "You'd better tell the sto

uture husband. Not I!" gigg

the Dowager Countess sharply. "'Tis

eauty. "'Twould seem that-it would appear-the story goes t

ratch with the bes

o other reason I tell it save to kill wors

knows that," agreed Crav

long day, but alack! the maid discovered, as maids will, that Sir Robert's intentions were-not of the best, and straightway the blushing rose becomes a frigid icicle. Well, this Northe

play. And what then?"

gh the streets for the cooling of his blood mayhap, much overheated by reason of deep play. He saw, he

ut in the Honourable Isabel, from be

attire to say the least,"

st make a better lover tha

ey. Both wounded, no graves needed. The girl nursed Montagu back t

he such a beauty?"

ust have points. No Scotch mawk

an the open speech. For myself, I did not value the talk of the cats at one jack straw, but for this young girl sitting so still beside me- By Heaven, I dared not look at her. Nor did I know what to do, how to stop them without making the matter wors

ite and chill, all the joy of life struck out of it. The gir

will be dying of shame. Let us be go

of them. Will you dare make the attempt? Sho

with me. And at all events a

and I dare say my aggressive bearing bewrayed me. In threading our way to the door I brushed accident

ne. I call you all to witness I have taken the desperate highwayman. 'Tall, strong, and extremely well-looking; carries him

e pink-white youth lounged forward to offer

That big body of yours is worth a hundred guine

nfortunately my business carries me

took you, and I want the reward," cries

neither to the right nor to the left, her head poised regally on

fine a piece as I have seen," said Craven to March in an audi

er fore and aft. My anger seethed, boiled over. Forward slid my foot behind his heel, my forearm under his chin. I threw my weight forward in a push. His head went back as though shot from a catapult, and next moment Sir James Craven measured his length on the ground. With the girl on my arm I pushed through the company

so? There are three hundred claymores would be leaping from the scabba

at leaped now from her eyes. Like a caged and wounded tigress she strode up and down the room,

h me because I had seen and heard. Apparently 'twas enough that I was of their race and class, for when during a pause I slipped in my word of soothing explanation the uncorked vials of her rage showered down

ce in the summer-house of the garden. In days past I had coquetted many an hour away with her. Indeed, years before we had been lovers in half-earnest boy and g

gave no sign. I was still angry at her for her share in what had just happened and I wa

here," I s

I take it as a great presumption that you dare to stay at the sam

ing ground in dismay at

rd I used, sir. Do

ir fight,"

challenged? Did you

, bu

after me. Do you think I can change lovers

, I pr

here to see me? Answer me that, sir

s Westerleigh

lander? Do

rapped out mighty short. "I have done with women and their folli

n!" laughed my mocking tormentor with so sudden a change of front that I was quite nonplussed. "And

osing to give her a large piece of my mind. Divining my intention, womanlike

y, and the alluring mouth was the sweetest Cupid's bow imaginable. Laughter rippled over her face like the wind in golden grain. Mayh

' bonny,

that, '

her better?" s

d her

ull a honeysuckle to pieces, pouting

. There was a challenge in her manner, and my blood

repeated, ove

the petals

he spoke so softly I h

housand years

d in eternity a thousand

egan to dim. On my soul the little witch contrived to let the dew of tears glisten there. Now a woman's tears are just the

te!" I chided, reso

ded to love your

t the worst heart neither. I am no Puritan, and youth has

r," I told her. "When the gods send their bes

enty years without learning that a young woman may be free of speech and yet discreet of action, that alluring eyes are oft mismated with prim maiden c

mocking face of hers. No longer I shilly-shallied. S

oesn't butter any bread," I cried ga

did, and the

ion, Adam?" quoth

h since the days of the first Garden. For this heaven of your lip

un to disengage herself. Her glance shot straight over my shoulder to the e

king at us with an acrid, scornful smi