ful drops. At school, at college,
and when we crossed the Alps together, ever sharing my bed and table, I
saw him in every different situation. Was his life one act of deceit,
and mine a long dream of credulity? When, in the fullness of my soul, I
told him he was more than worthy my sister's love, he answered that
though the noble blood of Devereux ran in his veins, it did not become
his humble fortunes to aspire to the Lady Eleanor. After my father's
death, he would no longer reside with me, but entered into the service
of his cousin, the Lord Essex, saying he would not quarter an expensive
retainer on the scanty portion of a younger brother, which needed good
husbandry, but that his heart still remained with me, and would be a
cheap sojourner. Was not this the language of a noble spirit? You look,
Williams, as if you had a mystery to unfold. Come, tell all your tale as
you would repeat it to gossips on a wassail night. The world is now
forgotten by me, and I am forgotten by the world."

"My noble Lord," Williams began--"Again," said Evellin, "after my strict
injunctions, do not insult me with empty titles. Have I not told you
that my patent of nobility is cancelled? I am Goodman Evellin of the
Fells, husband of the best of women, and father of two wanton prattlers,
who know not the misery of having fallen from an eminently glorious
station. Mark, Williams, the story of what I was shall die with me, or
only survive close shut in the treasured remembrance of my faithful
wife. I would not for the universe cloud the laughing features of these
happy babes, by awakening desires which I cannot gratify; therefore
forget my lapsed greatness."

"Even in our privacies?" inquired Williams.

"Certainly; and habit will make familiarity easy. Sit beside me on the
ground, and leave off putting your hand to your bonnet. Do we not look
like two smart woodmen, enjoying, over our evening repast, a tale of
other times?"

"I must turn my face from your honour," said Williams, "before I can
attempt to forget that you was Sir Allan, my old master's favourite son;
but it is in vain for you to try to pass for a country yeoman. They who
have spent their lives in these mountains, and never seen a noble
personage, rudely explain their notions of majesty and dignity by
describing you; and, by the grace of Heaven, they shall find they
guessed right, when they said the stranger from the south-country was a
man of another sort of a world."

"Le