ofession that would have
suited him. He was sadly wanting in general capacity, though
accomplished much above the average, and with a fine knack in the
budding of roses.

I thought him the grandest gentleman that ever lived, and the
pleasantest of companions. His weak but lovable nature had strong
sympathy with children, I think. I ought to say, with a child; for he
would share the fancies and humours of one child companion for hours,
but was quite incapable of managing a larger number--as, indeed, he was
of any kind of domestic administration or control. Mrs. Vandaleur was
emphatically Elspeth's mistress, if she was also her friend; but in the
absence of "the mistress" Elspeth ruled "the master" with a rod of iron.

I quickly gained a degree of power over him myself. I discovered that if
I maintained certain outward forms of respect and courtesy, so as not to
shock my grandpapa's standard of good manners, I might make almost any
demands on his patience and good-nature. Children and pet animals make
such discoveries very quickly, and are apt to use their power somewhat
tyrannically. I fear I was no exception to the rule.

CHAPTER X.

THOMAS THE CAT--MY GREAT-GRANDFATHER'S SKETCHES--ADOLPHE IS MY
FRIEND--MY GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GRANDFATHER DISTURBS MY REST--I LEAVE THE
VINE.

My great-grandfather had, as I said, some skill in painting. He was
gifted with an intense sense of, and love for, colour. I am sure he saw
colours where other people did not. What to common eyes was a mass of
grey, or green, was to him a pleasant combination of many gay and
delicate hues. He distinguished severally the innumerable bright threads
in Nature's coat of many colours, and in simple truth I think that each
was a separate joy to him.

He had a white Persian cat of an artistic temperament, which followed
him in his walks, dozed on the back of his arm-chair, and condescended
to share his tea when it reached a certain moderate temperature. It
never was betrayed into excitement, except when there was fish for
dinner. My great-grandfather's fasts were feasts for Thomas the cat.

I can very clearly remember the sight of my great-grandfather pacing
slowly up and down the tiny garden at The Vine, his hands behind him,
and followed sedately by Thomas. Now and then he would stop to gaze,
with infinite contentment in his eyes, at the delicate blue-grey mist
behind the leafless trees (which in that spring sunshine were, no doubt,
of much