he went
hunting, or stood by the roadside and lifted his bonnet as she and her
gay train swept by. Or he may have been despatched upon royal errands
through the subterranean passage which is said to exist all the way
between Cockhoolet Castle and Edinburgh--the private telegraph of
those days, when wires in the air or under the sea by which to send
messages would have cost the inventors their lives as guilty of
witchcraft. While shaking hands with this old woman and speaking to
her, you lost sight of her and the present time and felt the air of
the sixteenth century blow in your face. Mary came up before you in
moving habit as she lived--the young Mary who caught all hearts, not
heartless herself, and laid hold of mere straws to save herself as
she drifted desperately with circumstances; not the woman who has been
painted as an actor from first to last, as coming forth draped for
effect at the very closing scene,--not that woman, but the girlish
queen who laughed and called to the echo, and forgot the cares of a
kingdom while she could.

IV.

"They are a nice family, those Ormistons," said Mr. Parker to his wife
as they drove to the railway-station in the moonlight.

"Very," said Mrs. Parker; "and Mr. Forrester is a nice lad. I hope he
and Miss Ormiston will make it out: I did my best for them."

"They'll be quite able to do the best for themselves: it is always
better to let things of that kind alone."

"I don't know that," said Mrs. Parker: "if a little shove is all that
is needed, it is a pity not to give it."

"But what if your shove sends people separate? That's not what you
intended, I fancy?"

"No fear: people are not so easily separated as all that."

"Well, we have had an uncommonly pleasant visit: I only wish the heads
of the house had been at home."

Either the attachment of this pair must have been pretty evident to
ordinary capacities, or Mrs. Parker must have been of a matchmaking
turn of mind; probably the latter, for Bessie at least was sure that
no mortal guessed her secret; which was a great comfort to her, seeing
that Edwin was so indifferent. Alas! there is no rose without a thorn,
or if there is it is a scentless, useless thing, most likely incapable
of giving either pleasure or pain.

The Parkers had left early. When the young people went in-doors again
it was only seven o'clock: the girls proposed a game at hide-and-seek,
and Bessie seconded the proposal; for you see it would