state between the two lofty front windows of her favorite
sitting-room.

Among the servants at Lone, none received the bride elect with more
effusive love than the old housekeeper, Girzie Ross.

"Eh, me leddy! Heaven, sent ye to redeem Lone. My benison on ye, me
leddy! and my ban on yon hizzie, wha hae been makin' sic' an ado, ever
sin the report o' your betrothal has been noised about!" said the dame.

"But who are you talking about, my dear Mrs. Ross?" inquired Salome.

"Ou just that handsom hizzie, Rosy Cameron, wha will hae it that she, her
vera sel', is troth-plighted to our young laird--the jaud!" replied the
housekeeper.

"But, Mrs. Ross, surely that must be a mistake of yours. No girl could
have the impertinence to say such a false thing of Lord Arondelle,"
exclaimed Salome, in disgust and abhorrence of the very idea presented.

"Indeed, then, my young lady, _she_ ha' the impertinence to say just
that thing--not in a whisper and in a corner, but loudly in the vera
castle court, to whilk she cam yestreen, sae noisily that I was fain to
threaten her wi' the constable before I could get shet o' her," said the
housekeeper nodding her head.

"What can the girl mean by it? What excuse can she possibly have to
justify such a mad charge?" inquired Salome, in a painful anxiety that
she could neither conquer nor yet explain to herself. She did not doubt
the honor of her promised husband. She would have died rather than doubt
him. Why, then, should this sudden anguish wring her heart. "What excuse
can she have, Mrs. Ross?" repeated Salome.

"Eh, me leddy, wha kens? Boys will be boys. And whiles the best o' them
will be wild where a bonny lassie is concerned. No that's I'm saying sic
a thing anent our young laird. But ye ken he used to be unco fond o' the
sport o' deer stalking up by Ben Lone, where this handsome hizzie, Rose
Cameron, bides wi' her owld feyther. And I e'en think the young laird,
may whiles, hae putten a speak on the lass. Nae mair nor less than just
that," said the housekeeper as she left the room to look after some
important household work.

A few minutes after her exit, Sir Lemuel Levison entered.

Finding his daughter almost in tears, he naturally inquired:

"What on earth is the matter with you, my child?"

"Nothing, papa! At least nothing that should trouble me!"

"But what is it?"

"Well then, papa, dear, here has been a foolish girl--_very_
foolish, I think she must be, going about, i