XVIII.

LEUCHA'S TERROR.

While Leucha was undergoing her heavy punishment, and while the
supposed ghostie was walking in the grounds of the Palace of the Kings,
a very different group had assembled at the dear old Garden. Mrs
Constable's school, her Annex, was filling fast with the bonniest boys
that England and Scotland could produce.

Mr Lennox kept a holiday for the great occasion, and on Saturday night
there were high jinks at The Garden. The only one of that happy party
who felt, in spite of herself, a little anxious, a little nervous, was
Jasmine, for she could not help being concerned about the defiant
expression in the bright eyes of Hollyhock. She thought of Holly
notwithstanding all the fun and the merriment, but the delight of
talking again to her dear brother-cousin Jasper dispelled her fears.
She had little time for serious thought. This was surely a right good
day, and she was soon enjoying it as fully as the rest. Of course, Mrs
Constable brought her strange laddies with her, as well as her own dear
boys, and many and gay were the songs they sang and the games they
played. Two of the songs they sang were the following, from the
beloved lips of Robert Burns:

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, and then for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I 'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

Had we never loved sae kindly!
Had we never loved sae blindly!
Never met--or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare-thee-weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure.

This pathetic song was immediately followed by the well-known strains
of 'Bonie Lesley:'

O saw ye bonie Lesley,
As she gaed o'er the Border!
She's gane, like Alexander,
To spread her conquests farther!

To see her is to love her,
And love but her for ever;
For Nature made her what she is,
And never made anither!

Return again, fair Lesley,
Return to Caledonie!
That we may brag we hae a lass
There's nane again sae bonie!

'Come, children,' said Mrs Constable, 'we 'll not have any more Scots
songs at present. Some of us are not Scots, remember. I now propose a
really good game of charades. Who is agreed?'

All went well, and better than well, and even Jasmine forgot her
undefined fears, until a little past ten o'clock, when a wild-loo