'Miss Helen, lovely! They've comed! Mrs. Todd see'd the carriage pass her shop last night, as they drove through the village; and she said there was sich a sight o' leddies in't." Such was Mrs. M'Nab's exclamation, as Helen entered the kitchen, on Saturday morning. "An' I believe the missis must be goin' up to the Cassel the day, to get a sight o' them; for she sent word to the Carrock Arms, that they'd to look out for horses for her gran' chariot, which is keepit there, ye ken; an' it's to come for her, i' the afternoon. Eh whow! to think o' the missis goin' sae far. Why she's niver been past the Kirk these mony years. Dear heart, though. There she's a-shoutin’ on ye. Likely she wants to speak to ye, anent takin' ye wi' her.”

Mrs. M'Nab was not mistaken, for as Helen entered the library, her grandmother said, "Sir George and Lady Carlaverock arrived at the Castle last night, with their family, and I have ordered the carriage to take me to call on them this afternoon. You will accompany me, of course."

"Shall I, though ?" thought Helen rebelliously to herself.

But she made no answer, an omission which Mrs. Carrock did not notice; for with the Burnstones household a word from its stately head needed only to be heard in order to be obeyed. But there are exceptions to every rule, and so it was with this law of the Medes and Persians. The afternoon came, and the lumbering old chariot of the Carrock dowagers arrived at the door, followed by an admiring crowd of village urchins.

The stately old lady descended the stairs arrayed in black velvet from head to foot, in spite of the June sun which was scorching down. Miss Carrock was sought for, high and low; all in vain, and her grandmother, though in high displeasure against the bold young lady who had dared to disobey her commands, was obliged perforce to ascend her chariot, and drive off at a dignified pace, minus the said young lady.

And where was Helen? Leaning against Sir Kenneth's Carrock, on the top of Hallow Fell, with Wolf couched at her feet, panting, and rolling out his red tongue, while his young mistress, her hat off, and the warm summer breeze playing with her hair, frowned half triumphantly at the red flag, which floated lazily from the grey keep of the old Castle, as if to assert that its lord was within the walls. So, Miss Helen, you have taken your liberty for once; but how long will you be able to keep it? Truth to tell, Helen was half frightened at

her own boldness, and it was with anything but a comfortable feeling, that she sat that evening at the open window of the drawing-room, awaiting her grandmother's return. For though our heroine had attained the magic age of twenty-one, she still stood in wholesome awe of her despotic relative, and had never before dared thus openly to disobey her.

At length the old chariot lumbered up to the door, Mrs. Carrock descended from it, and, entering the house, confronted her granddaughter, with a look worthy of Queen Elizabeth herself. She did not scold,—Mrs. Carrock never made such a vulgar display of her feelings, but she gave Helen such a lecture as never required to be repeated; finishing by telling her that Lady Carlaverock wished her to go up to the Castle on Monday, to stay all night, and make acquaintance with her daughters.

"But, grandmamma," faltered Helen, "I don't want to have anything to do with the Car-"

You will do as I wish, if you please," broke in Mrs. Carrock severely," the Carlaverocks are my relations, and yours too, have the goodness to recollect; and I choose you to know them."

From this sentence Helen knew there was no appeal; and, though chafing against it internally, she prudently returned to her allegiance. Sunday morning broke grey and drizzly, and Mrs. Carrock, who was suffering from the fatigue of her expedition of the day before, announced at breakfast that she intended staying at home that morning; graciously giving Helen the choice of going to Church or not, as she liked. Now our heroine, spite of her professed indifference about the Carlaverocks, felt a great curiosity to see these representatives of the feudal foes of her house, (as she persisted in considering them.) So donning her brown waterproof cloak, and drawing the hood over her bonnet, she sallied forth into the damp mist, which was shrouding everything out of doors.

The Church was very full that morning, notwithstanding the unpropitious weather; though probably the new-comers were rather the object of attraction to many of the congregation than the spiritual consolation and admonition afforded by the Rev. Samuel Dodds. Indeed I am afraid most there forgot that there is a higher object in going to Church than either of these, to judge from the direction in which numerous pairs of eyes were constantly wandering. This magnet was the large pew allotted to the Castle, above whose high sides the heads

of five people were visible. These heads belonged respectively to an elderly gentleman, with iron-grey hair and whiskers; to three young girls, in steps and stairs, and to a lady of a certain age; plainly, but well dressed, who appeared to be their governess. These five personages had been deposited at the church door, by the carriage from the Castle a few minutes before Helen's arrival. The service began, and our heroine's attention was immediately attracted by the curious, uncertain way in which the usually precise old clerk was making the responses. Indeed old David appeared in a most unaccountably flurried state, and made several mistakes, even while repeating the confession with the rest of the congregation, after Mr. Dodds. Whether his nervousness were occasioned by the presence of his new master, or by the state of anxiety and hurry he had been in during the last few weeks, Helen could not tell. But certain it is, that as the service proceeded, Davie's confused manner became more and more apparent. He kept thrusting his hand nervously into his pockets, and into the bosom of his snuff-coloured coat; missed out words in the responses, coughed, fidgeted with his big dog-eared Prayer Book, and finally, when the psalms began, and Mr. Dodds, having read his verse, waited for Davie to go on, the old man became suddenly dumb; his withered face actually grew scarlet, and he turned over the leaves of his Prayer Book more energetically than ever. Mr. Dodds paused a moment to give the old clerk time, then read the next verse and paused again. A dead silence reigned throughout the Church, broken only by the fluttering of the leaves, as old Davie's thumb went up to his mouth, and then dashed at the Prayer Book pages. "I can't find t' spot,' he muttered at intervals, in a hurried, deprecating tone, glancing imploringly at Helen, "Hech, sirs, I've left my specks on't kitchen table!"1

Seized by a sudden impulse, Helen ran out of Church, never thinking whether it were proper to do so or not, or what the people would think of her. She only saw old Davie's distress, and his appealing look towards her, and without considering further, rushed off full speed to the Castle, arrived at the back entrance, panting, and out of breath, and having inquired of the astonished servants for Mrs. Craig, received the spectacles from her hand, and without stopping to answer any questions, dashed back again down the hill. When she neared the Church, however, she was obliged to go a little slower, in order to

A fact.

regain her breath, and then the glaring impropriety which she had committed, forced itself upon her mind. What would her grandmother say! ? What would the Carlaverocks think of her? Poor Helen! the crimson dyed her cheeks at the thought of what she had done.

:

'Well, I must go on now," said she to herself, "old Davie must have his spectacles."

But she was not to have even the consolation of coming to her old friend's aid. The clerk was already supplied with a pair of glasses, and Helen could only creep into a dark seat near the church door, hoping that no one would observe her; and immediately the service was over, made the best of her way home, stopping to speak to nobody.

CHAPTER IX.

NEW FOLK IN THE OLD CASTLE.

"O this is no my ain house,

I ken by the biggin o't;

For bow-cail thrave at my door cheek,
And thristles on the riggin o't.

"A carle came wi' lack o' grace,
Wi' unco gear and unco face;
And sin' he claimed my daddy's place,
I downa mind the triggin o't.

*

"Say, was it foul, or was it fair,

To come a hunder mile and mair,

For to ding out my daddy's heir,

And dash him wi' the whiggin o't?"

Jacobite Song.

MONDAY evening found Helen seated in the old family coach, driving slowly up the hill on her way to the Castle. Poor Helen! she wished herself anywhere else than in her present position. Where were all her resolutions to have nothing to do with the Carlaverocks? her romantic notions of deadly feud? It ill suited her preconceived ideas of hostile attitude towards hereditary enemies, to be thus on her way to pay an amicable visit to them, in the very stronghold of the old Carrocks of days gone by, who would have died rather than allow a Carlaverock to take up his abode there. And such a prosaic thing as dining, and staying all night! Poor Helen! she felt it a sad downfall to many a castle in the air, in which she had imagined herself meeting

these very people, like some princess of the olden time, with haughty dignity and cold disdain. And now, how should she act towards them? She would be politely distant, she thought; she would entrench herself against any advances on their part behind a barrier of frigid reserve. But then that unfortunate affair on Sunday, how would that suit with her proposed role? The rattle of the carriage-wheels on the pavement, as it passed under the old entrance-gate, roused Helen from her reverie. The driver got down, and sounded a thundering summons on the oaken door, which awoke innumerable echoes throughout the old Castle, and brought a tall footman, in the Carlaverock livery of brown and scarlet, to the door. Helen thought she observed a slight smile on the man's face, as he assisted her from the queer, old-fashioned carriage, which, with its improvised coachman, the fat old landlord of the Carrock Arms, was enough to provoke the merriment of any smart London footman. But it only raised Helen's ire, and she followed him across the hall in no very amicable mood. The hall was not much changed; most of the old armour and banners remained on the walls, only those which were very much broken and tattered having been removed. One banner, however, Helen missed directly. It was that which had been taken from the Carlaverocks, and which the Carrocks, in the pride of victory, had hung up in the most conspicuous place in their Castle hall.

Mrs. Dorothy met Helen at the foot of the grand staircase, rustling in black silk, and fluttering with pink cap ribbons, and informed our heroine, with a manner even more full of importance than when they had last met, that the young ladies had not yet come in from walking; and that, as her ladyship felt tired and was lying down in her own apartment, she had left directions with her (Mrs. Dorothy) that Miss Carrock should be taken to the room which had been prepared for her, directly she arrived. Then ordering the footman to bring up Helen's box, the housekeeper proceeded to pioneer our heroine up the stairs, on which soft carpets had been laid down; and where the once dusty banisters, and dark wood carving which adorned them, now shone with all the lustre of bees'-wax. They passed along the gallery containing Prince Charlie's room, and Mrs. Dorothy, after showing Helen into a room near the end, departed, promising to send Antoinette, the young ladies' French maid, to help her to dress. It was a pretty room in which our heroine found herself, though furnished in a very antique style. The afternoon sun was pouring in through the oak-mullioned