ave to complain of Rothsay, his horrible and unexpected end
greatly shocked the noble lady, and she spent the greater part of the
night in indulging her grief and in devotional exercises.

On the next morning, which was that of the memorable Palm Sunday, she
ordered Catharine Glover and the minstrel into her presence. The spirits
of both the young women had been much sunk and shaken by the dreadful
scenes in which they had so lately been engaged; and the outward
appearance of the Duchess Marjory was, like that of her father, more
calculated to inspire awe than confidence. She spoke with kindness,
however, though apparently in deep affliction, and learned from them
all which they had to tell concerning the fate of her erring and
inconsiderate husband. She appeared grateful for the efforts which
Catharine and the glee maiden had made, at their own extreme peril, to
save Rothsay from his horrible fate. She invited them to join in her
devotions; and at the hour of dinner gave them her hand to kiss, and
dismissed them to their own refection, assuring both, and Catharine in
particular, of her efficient protection, which should include, she said,
her father's, and be a wall around them both, so long as she herself
lived.

They retired from the presence of the widowed Princess, and partook of
a repast with her duennas and ladies, all of whom, amid their profound
sorrow, showed a character of stateliness which chilled the light heart
of the Frenchwoman, and imposed restraint even on the more serious
character of Catharine Glover. The friends, for so we may now term them,
were fain, therefore, to escape from the society of these persons, all
of them born gentlewomen, who thought themselves but ill assorted with
a burgher's daughter and a strolling glee maiden, and saw them with
pleasure go out to walk in the neighbourhood of the convent. A little
garden, with its bushes and fruit trees, advanced on one side of the
convent, so as to skirt the precipice, from which it was only separated
by a parapet built on the ledge of the rock, so low that the eye might
easily measure the depth of the crag, and gaze on the conflicting waters
which foamed, struggled, and chafed over the reef below.

The Fair Maiden of Perth and her companion walked slowly on a path that
ran within this parapet, looked at the romantic prospect, and judged
what it must be when the advancing summer should clothe the grove with
leaves. They observed for some time a