a clear legible hand, in her letter to Edward, requesting that it might not be given to her sister until she was able to read it herself. The note was promptly read, and answered too, but in straggling uneven characters, in which Kathleen could scarcely trace her sister's former hand-writing. Agnes was guarded in her expressions of satisfaction, reminding her sister that the discovery of her misunderstanding could make no change in their outward relations. So Kathleen had already told herself; but many a lesson which we have striven to engrave on our inmost hearts reads harshly from the lips of another. And no reasoning could prevent her thoughts from straying to Dalross, when the twelfth of August drew near.

The return home of the two academy boys, John and Sandy Irvine, caused some relaxation of school-room discipline, so that Kathleen had leisure enough to indulge in speculation. The girls, as well as Peter, were their willing slaves, and there was a continual incursion of one or other of the boys into the school-room, who came, with Mrs. Irvine's sanction, to claim their assistance at irregular hours in constructing water-works over the burn, carrying the game-bag, or thatching the new rabbit-hutch. So Kathleen had many lonely hours to range over the grassy hills, or to sit in the shelter of an over-hanging rock, dreamily musing, to the tune of the "long-heaving, violet sea."

The twelfth, so eagerly anticipated by the inmates of Ardcrae, dawned auspicious in brilliant sunshine, with air enough to favour the shooters, and not too much to frighten the birds, as Kathleen heard at the breakfasttable. The boys were to accompany Mr. Irvine to the moor, and their sisters appointed a trysting-place where

they might join them with the luncheon-basket later in the day. And when it appeared that Kathleen had never seen a grouse, pity for such benighted ignorance disposed the whole party to assent to Peter's suggestion, that she might have Rory, and come too.

Kathleen declined the invitation, however, resolved not to incur the imputation of having sought a meeting with Lord De Cressy. The offer was not repeated, and Sandy sauntered out of the room, desiring Peter to "come on," chiefly for the sake of imparting to him his contemptuous pity for the English governess's want of enterprise.

The shooting party did not return until the sun was low, and the girls came into the school-room with spirits unabated by fatigue, quite ready for the tea which had been prepared for them nearly two hours before. They were very communicative, giving Kathleen an account of every shot fired, of the behaviour of the dogs, and the nature of the ground over which they had walked. Then they ascended a scale higher in creation, from brutes to men, though these were, in their estimation, a far less interesting subject of discourse.

"We saw some of the Dalross people," Janet said. "Our tryst was just at the march-dyke, and while we were waiting for papa and the boys, the keeper and two gentlemen sat down in the shade on their side of the dyke. Robie had a greeting with the keeper, so papa thought it absurd not to introduce himself to Lord De Cressy and his friend, who is an Englishman too, but I did not catch his name. Lord De Cressy has much better manners than his uncle." For Janet, like most people who want manner themselves, was very critical on her neighbour's deficiencies on this point.

"Did

"His manners are only too good," said Helen. you see his disgust at having to eat his chicken with his fingers? And I almost went without bread, because he could not make up his mind to hand it to me with the same vulgar instruments."

"I did not mean those sort of manners," said Janet. "I am sure that Mr. De Cressy was particular enough about such absurd refinements. But he was not so contemptuous and disagreeable, and he seemed to admire the country exceedingly."

"I believe, however, that he is proud enough," said Helen, "only too proud to be rude. There is something in the shape of his eyebrows -"

"A man cannot help the shape of his eyebrows," Janet began; but Kathleen did not feel equal to this discussion of Lord De Cressy's character and features, and she interrupted it by inquiring whether the gentlemen had had luncheon with them?

"Yes," said Janet; "and a long while they took to eat it. They seemed to be quite tired already, especially that absurd little English friend, who was quite surprised to find that we did not speak Gaelic."

"Lord De Cressy was very respectably dressed," remarked Willie, "and in good serviceable shoes."

"You are bent on making that article of dress a test of nationality," said Kathleen, laughing; "and yet I believe that shooting shoes average the same thickness in all parts of the united kingdom."

"I know," said Willie, doggedly, "that Englishmen always wear light kid gloves." The inconsequence of the reply might again have provoked Kathleen's raillery, if she had not discovered that any point which involved

the honour of Scotland, even in the matter of shoeleather, was too tender a subject for ridicule.

Either on account of the thickness of his shoes, or for some other good qualities, Lord De Cressy was exempted from the censure passed upon his countrymen, and even admitted to the high praise of being "not at all English." Before the end of the week, Kathleen had heard much of his manners, habits, and appearance, and still without betraying how familiar the description was. The gentlemen exchanged visits: she was at home when he called, and the tones of his voice ascended to the open window of the school-room, where she sat. knew it not, and she was glad, or almost glad, it was for if the mere anticipation of such a discovery made her tremble and turn pale, how would it be if the recognition actually took place before the curious eyes of strangers?

But he

that so

CHAPTER XVI.

Hope of love, by Time's dark river,
No more watch and weep.

J. WESTWOOD.

THE bright sunshine was soon succeeded by the lowering clouds and constant showers more characteristic of the Ayrshire climate. The young Irvines asserted that the rain was of no consequence, but less ardent sportsmen were of a different opinion; and both at Dalross and Ardcrae the grouse enjoyed some respite from destruction.

Lord De Cressy found the days long, for his friend had left him, so that he was the only inmate of the shooting-lodge; and it was probably because he was tired of solitude, rather than from the pleasure which he took in the Irvines' society, that he resolved to end his ride at Ardcrae one Saturday afternoon.

He had been riding along the sands, and instead of returning to the high road, he attempted to gain admittance to the place by what was called the seagate, opening on a grass ride which led directly from the shore to the house. He was baffled by finding that the gate was locked, and he was about to retrace his steps, when he perceived a lady sitting below a shelving rock, not many yards off. "I dare say," he said to himself, "that