nd a hatchment hung in mournful gorgeousness
over the principal entrance between those two massive towers.

But farther than the flag could be seen, and swift as the wind that
stirred it, went the strange story that the beautiful Lady Hope had been
seized with a violent hemorrhage of the lungs while standing by the
death couch of the old countess, and had died before help could be
obtained.

After this, another wild rumor took wing. The young lady who had been
some weeks at the castle was only an adopted daughter of Lord Hope, and,
consequently could not become heiress of Houghton under the will or by
entail. The daughter and heiress was at the castle, stricken down with
grief at the double loss that had fallen upon her since her arrival from
abroad, where she had been educated. With a feeling of delicacy that did
her honor she had declined to appear as the acknowledged heiress at the
festival given to Lady Hope, feeling that it might interfere with her
grandmother's independent action with regard to the vast property at her
disposal, if she allowed herself to be proclaimed thus early as the
chosen heiress, which she now undoubtedly was. The will had been read,
and, with the exception of a considerable legacy to Caroline Brown, the
adopted daughter, and provisions for the servants, young Lady Carset
came in for everything.

Alderman Stacy took this story back to America, and described his
reception at Houghton Castle with such glowing colors--when the
assembled board were at supper one night, in a pleasant, social
way--that one of the fathers proposed forthwith to draw up a resolution
of thanks to young Lady Carset for the hospitality extended to their
illustrious compeer, and forward it, with "the liberty of the city,
under the great seal of New York." At the next meeting of the board this
resolution was carried unanimously--in fact, with acclamation.

Months went by, twelve or more, and then the trees around that grand old
stronghold blazed out with lights again. Two fountains shot their liquid
brightness over the stone terrace, at which the people from far and near
came to drink. One sent up crystal, and rained down diamonds, as it had
done that night when the old countess died. The other, being of wine,
shot up a column of luminous red into the air, and came down in a storm
of rubies.

The people, who caught the red drops on their lips, and dipped the
sparkling liquid up with silver ladles, knew that a double w