id stiff ruff which referred
the date of his existence to the reign of Elizabeth,--a man with a bold
and noble countenance. On the corner was placed a faded coat of arms,
beneath which was inscribed, "Herbert De Caxton, Eq: Aur: AEtat: 35."

On the back of the canvas I observed, as I now replaced the picture
against the wall, a label in Roland's handwriting, though in a younger
and more running hand than he now wrote. The words were these "The best
and bravest of our line, He charged by Sidney's side on the field of
Zutphen; he fought in Drake's ship against the armament of Spain. If
ever I have a--" The rest of the label seemed to have been torn off.

I turned away, and felt a remorseful shame that I had so far gratified
my curiosity,--if by so harsh a name the powerful interest that
had absorbed me must be called. I looked round for Blanche; she had
retreated from my side to the door, and, with her hands before her eyes,
was weeping. As I stole towards her, my glance fell on a book that lay
on a chair near the casement and beside those relics of an infancy
once pure and serene. By the old-fashioned silver clasps I recognized
Roland's Bible. I felt as if I had been almost guilty of profanation
in my thoughtless intrusion. I drew away Blanche, and we descended the
stairs noiselessly; and not till we were on our favorite spot, amidst
a heap of ruins on the feudal justice-hill, did I seek to kiss away her
tears and ask the cause.

"My poor brother!" sobbed Blanche, "they must have been his,--and we
shall never, never see him again!--and poor papa's Bible, which he reads
when he is very, very sad! I did not weep enough when my brother died.
I know better what death is now! Poor papa! poor papa! Don't die, too,
Sisty!"

There was no running after butterflies that morning; and it was long
before I could soothe Blanche. Indeed, she bore the traces of dejection
in her soft looks for many, many days; and she often asked me,
sighingly, "Don't you think it was very wrong in me to take you there?"
Poor little Blanche, true daughter of Eve, she would not let me bear my
due share of the blame; she would have it all, in Adam's primitive
way of justice,--"The woman tempted me, and I did eat." And since then
Blanche has seemed more fond than ever of Roland, and comparatively
deserts me to nestle close to him, and closer, till he looks up and
says, "My child, you are pale; go and run after the butterflies;" and
she says now to him,