eeling perhaps that he fell to her care the more that he was by birth
of her own class; for it was said in the castle, "the tutor makes no
pretence to being a gentleman." Whether he was the more or the less of
one on that account, I leave my reader to judge according to his
capability. Sometimes when his dinner was served, mistress Brookes
would herself appear, to ensure proper attention to him, and would sit
down and talk to him while he ate, ready to rise and serve him if
necessary. Their early days had had something in common, though she
came from the southern highlands of green hills and more sheep. She
gave him some rather needful information about the family; and he soon
perceived that there would have been less peace in the house but for
her good temper and good sense.

Lady Arctura was the daughter of the last lord Morven, and left sole
heir to the property; Forgue and his brother Davie were the sons of the
present earl. The present lord was the brother of the last, and had
lived with him for some years before he succeeded. He was a man of
peculiar and studious habits; nobody ever seemed to take to him; and
since his wife's death, his health had been precarious. Though a
strange man, he was a just if not generous master. His brother had
left him guardian to lady Arctura, and he had lived in the castle as
before. His wife was a very lovely, but delicate woman, and latterly
all but confined to her room. Since her death a great change had
passed upon her husband. Certainly his behaviour was sometimes hard to
understand.

"He never gangs to the kirk--no ance in a twalmonth!" said Mrs.
Brookes. "Fowk sud be dacent, an' wha ever h'ard o' dacent fowk 'at
didna gang to the kirk ance o' the Sabbath! I dinna haud wi' gaein'
twise mysel': ye hae na time to read yer ain chapters gien ye do that.
But the man's a weel behavet man, sae far as ye see, naither sayin' nor
doin' the thing he shouldna: what he may think, wha's to say! the mair
ten'er conscience coonts itsel' the waur sinner; an' I'm no gaein' to
think what I canna ken! There's some 'at says he led a gey lowse kin'
o' a life afore he cam to bide wi' the auld yerl; he was wi' the airmy
i' furreign pairts, they say; but aboot that I ken naething. The auld
yerl was something o' a sanct himsel', rist the banes o' 'im! We're no
the jeedges o' the leevin' ony mair nor o' the deid! But I maun awa'
to luik efter things; a minute's an hoor lost wi' thae fule