's
Jock, whose depredations extended to the minutiae of Laverna's
sacrifices:--

"Baith hen and cock,
And reel and rock,
The laird's Jock
All with him takes."

She had early entertained the expectation that she would cure her
husband of his Border practices; and, though she had not as yet
succeeded in that hope, she had placed before him such a picture of
domestic bliss, in the working influences of all the finer and higher
sentiments, seen and heard in the acts and speech of every member of his
little family, that he became daily more reconciled to her views of the
happiness of life, at the same time that he could not resist the
heart-stirring stimulus of a raid, to give him, as he said with a smile,
a higher relish for his domestic enjoyments.

A fine family picture, preserved as a legend of the house of Henderland,
represents Cockburn and Marjory sitting beneath an immense elm, the only
tree of that kind near the castle, and rendered curious on another
account, with their three children beside them, engaged in swinging from
its branches, and other gambols of innocent childhood. The anxious wife
had, for a time, succeeded in her endeavours to keep her husband at
home; but, latterly, some indications, on the part of the chief's
retainers, having been caught by her vigilant eye, she dreaded another
outbreak of that daring spirit which she had not yet been able
effectually to quell.

"It will not conceal, Parys," said she, "that there are yet in this
bosom, where your Marjory's head has sought the refuge of love,
frightened by war, some embers of your old spirit ready to flame again.
Is it not so? Love hath sharp eyes. It is not for stag hunting that your
followers are stringing their bows. The love of your old pastime, like
that of an old concealed passion, will act in such a manner as defieth
all the art of concealment. I noticed, last night, as you spoke to
Scott's John, who was booming his bow to show the power of the cord,
that the sound went to your heart. Tushielaw oweth you a debt of
vengeance. Is it not so? Come, now, confess that it is not for nothing
that the old sword points have been risped on the sharping-stone on the
ballium?"

"Tush, Marjory!" replied Cockburn, "you alarm the ear of the watchful
Helen, who suspendeth her play to listen to her mother's fears. Such is
thy training, that our young Hector will lose Henderland before the sods
have grown together over his father's grave