a wide desert
country, and across rivers and among wild beasts; but at every peril
the child held out the olive-branch, and we passed on safely. And when I
felt weary, and my feet were bleeding with the rough journey, the little
angel touched them with the olive, and I was strong again. At last we
reached a beautiful valley, and the child, said, 'You are quite safe
now.' I answered, 'And who is my beautiful comforting angel?' Then the
white wings fell off, and I only saw a sweet child's face, which bore
something of Angus's likeness and something of my own, and the little
one stretched out her hands and said, 'Mother!'"

While Mrs. Rothesay spoke, her thoughtless manner had once more softened
into deep feeling. Elspie watched her with wondering eagerness.

"It was nae dream; it was a vision. God send it true!" said the old
woman, solemnly.

"I know not. Angus always laughed at my dreams, but I have a strange
feeling whenever I think of this. Oh, Elspie, you can't tell how sweet
it was! And so I should like to call my baby Olive, for the sake of
the beautiful angel. It may be foolish--but 'tis a fancy of mine. Olive
Rothesay! It sounds well, and Olive Rothesay she shall be."

"Amen; and may she be an angel to ye a' her days. And ye'll mind o' the
blessed dream, and love her evermair. Oh, my sweet leddy, promise me
that ye will!" cried the nurse, approaching her mistress's chair, while
two great tears stole down her hard cheeks.

"Of course I shall love her dearly! What made you doubt it? Because I am
so young? Nay, I have a mother's heart, though I am only eighteen. Come,
Elspie, do let us be merry; send these drops away;" and she patted the
old withered face with her little hand. "Was it not you who told me the
saying, 'It's ill greeting ower a new-born wean'? There! don't I succeed
charmingly in your northern tongue?"

What a winning little creature she was, this young wife of Angus
Rothesay! A pity he had not seen her--the old Highland uncle, Miss
Flora's brother, who had disinherited his nephew and promised heir for
bringing him a _Sassenach_ niece.

"A charming scene of maternal felicity! I am quite sorry to intrude upon
it," said a bland voice at the door, as Dr. Johnson put in his shining
bald head.

Mrs. Rothesay welcomed him in her graceful, cordial way. She was so
ready to cling to every one who showed her kindness--and he had
been very kind; so kind that, with her usual quick impulses, she had
determ