re a great fire was burning; but, beyond that,
everything, even to the trifles on his writing table, was just as
when last he left the house. His chair stood in its usual position
by the fire, and wine and biscuits were on a little table near.

"Very considerate!" he said to himself. "I trust the major does not
mean to keep me waiting, though. Deuced hard to have to leave a
place like this!"

Weary with his journey he fell into a doze, dreamed of his dead
wife, woke suddenly, and heard the door of the room open. There was
Major Culsalmon entering with outstretched hand! and there was a
lady--his wife doubtless! But how young the major was! he had
imagined him a man in middle age at least!--Bless his soul! was he
never to get rid of this impostor fellow! it was not the major! it
was the rascal calling himself Sir Gilbert Galbraith!--the
half-witted wretch his fool of a daughter insisted on marrying!
Here he was, ubiquitous as Satan! And--bless his soul again! there
was the minx, Jenny! looking as if the place was her own! The silly
tears in her eyes too!--It was all too absurd! He had just been
dreaming of his dead wife, and clearly that was it! he was not awake
yet!

He tried hard to wake, but the dream mastered him.

"Jenny!" he said, as the two stood for a moment regarding him, a
little doubtfully, but with smiles of welcome, "what is the meaning
of this? I did not know Major Culsalmon had invited you! And what
is this person doing here?"

"Papa," replied Ginevra, with a curious smile, half merry, half
tearful, "this person is my husband, Sir Gilbert Galbraith of
Glashruach; and you are at home in your own study again."

"Will you never have done masquerading, Jenny?" he returned. "Inform
Major Culsalmon that I request to see him immediately."

He turned towards the fire, and took up a newspaper. They thought
it better to leave him. As he sat, by degrees the truth grew plain
to him. But not one other word on the matter did the man utter to
the day of his death. When dinner was announced, he walked straight
from the dining-room door to his former place at the foot of the
table. But Robina Grant was equal to the occasion. She caught up
the dish before him, and set it at the side. There Gibbie seated
himself; and, after a moment's hesitation, Ginevra placed herself
opposite her husband.

The next day Gibbie provided him with something to do. He had the
chest of papers found in the