for the following February. The Brodies were to return to
Hootawa after it was vacated by the American summer tenants. I was to
join them for Christmas on my return from America, where I was compelled
to go in order to settle my affairs. My father, Lorenzo Q. Sweat, of
Chicago, evinced great pleasure at my approaching union with an old
Scotch family; he promised me a handsome allowance considering his recent
losses in the meat packing swindle--I mean trade. I was able to dissuade
him from coming to Europe for the ceremony. After delivering two
successful lectures on Pietro Cavallini in the early fall at mothers'
soirees, I sailed for Liverpool.

There was deep snow on the ground when I arrived at Hootawa in the early
afternoon of a cold December day. The Colonel met me at the station in
the uniform of the 69th, attended by two gillies holding torches.

"There will just be enough light to glance at the pictures before tea,"
he said gaily, and in three-quarters of an hour I was embracing Flora and
saluting her mother, who were in the hall to greet me. For the most part
Hootawa was a typical old Scotch castle, with extinguisher turrets; an
incongruous Jacobean addition rather enhancing its picturesque ensemble.

"You'll see better pictures here than anything in Rome," remarked the
Colonel; but Flora giggled rather nervously.

In the smoking-room and library, I inspected, with assumed interest,
works by the little masters of Holland, and some more admirable examples
of the English Eighteenth Century School. Faithful to my promise, I
pronounced every one of them to be little gems, unsurpassed by anything
in the private collections of America or Europe. We passed into the
drawing-room and parlour with the same success. In the latter apartment
the Colonel, grasping my arm, said impressively: "Now you will see our
great treasure, the Brodie Vandyck, of which Flora has so often told you.
I have never lent it for exhibition, for, as you know, we are rather
superstitious about it. Sir Joshua Reynolds, in 1780, offered to paint
the portraits of the whole family in exchange for the picture. Dr.
Waagen describes it in his well-known work. Dr. Bode came from Berlin on
purpose to see it some years ago, when he left a certificate (which was
scarcely necessary) of its undoubted authenticity. I was so touched by
his genuine admiration, that I presented him with a small Dutch picture
which he admired in the smoking-room, a