nown that she is to attend
service at St. Giles the clubs are emptied and half the beaux of the
town may be found on their knees where they can have a view of her. The
greatest statesmen and lawyers of the day are her intimate friends, and
the crowds follow her in admiration when she drives through the
streets."

A good picture, but scant, for there is not a word in it of her heart,
the kindest and bravest that ever beat in woman's breast, nor her great
love and tenderness to all created things.

On the afternoon of this dinner I fixed my mind definitely upon a
matter upon which I had been pondering for some time. Coming in from
the bank about five, I called Nancy to me, and handed her the box I
carried.

"Is it a present for me?" she asked, her face aglow.

"A present for you, Little Flower, from the proudest father in the
world."

As I spoke she opened the casket and her eyes fell on the gems of which
I have already written--the ornaments of the ladies of Stair for
hundreds of years gone by--but for none, save one, so fair as she. I
would have sold Stair itself, if need be, to give her such joy. The
emerald necklace, which had been a year in the making, a brooch of the
same stones, with diamonds glittering in flower clusters, I found, were
the ones she liked the best, and she brought a mirror to sit beside me
as she tried them all, one by one, upon her hair, her neck, and arms,
demanding that Dame Dickenson and Huey be brought to look at her.

And a curious thing fell, that, as she was engaged with the jewels, a
note was brought from Mr. Pitcairn, which she read without interest,
saying after;

"Does he think I care anything about 'Lorimer _vs._ The Crown' with a
necklace like this?" and I fell to wondering, with some dismay, what
Hugh would think concerning her masculine mind if he had heard the
speech.

We were awaiting a summons to the meal that evening when Nancy entered;
a new Nancy, and one so wondrous to behold that Sandy and I started at
the sight of her. She wore a gown of yellow crepe embroidered in gold,
low and sleeveless, with a fold in the back, after the fashion of the
ladies of Watteau, and a long train falling far behind. Her hair was
gathered high and dressed with jewels which sparkled as well upon her
throat and hands. The thing that marked her most, an alluring
touchableness, was doubly present as she came toward us, laughing, with
a profound courtesy.

"My Lord Stair and Mr. Carmichae