that by getting the correspondence into her own hands.

"Praise Providence for a' its mercies!" said Bishopriggs, getting on his
feet again. "I've got twa strings, as they say, to my boo. I trow the
woman's the canny string o' the twa--and we'll een try the twanging of
her."

He set forth on his road back again, to search among the company at the
lake for Mrs. Glenarm.

The dance had reached its climax of animation when Bishopriggs
reappeared on the scene of his duties; and the ranks of the company had
been recruited, in his absence, by the very person whom it was now his
foremost object to approach.

Receiving, with supple submission, a reprimand for his prolonged absence
from the chief of the servants, Bishopriggs--keeping his one observant
eye carefully on the look-out--busied himself in promoting the
circulation of ices and cool drinks.

While he was thus occupied, his attention was attracted by two persons
who, in very different ways, stood out prominently as marked characters
among the rank and file of the guests.

The first person was a vivacious, irascible old gentleman, who
persisted in treating the undeniable fact of his age on the footing of a
scandalous false report set afloat by Time. He was superbly strapped
and padded. His hair, his teeth, and his complexion were triumphs of
artificial youth. When he was not occupied among the youngest women
present--which was very seldom--he attached himself exclusively to the
youngest men. He insisted on joining every dance. Twice he measured his
length upon the grass, but nothing daunted him. He was waltzing again,
with another young woman, at the next dance, as if nothing had happened.
Inquiring who this effervescent old gentleman might be, Bishopriggs
discovered that he was a retired officer in the navy; commonly known
(among his inferiors) as "The Tartar;" more formally described in
society as Captain Newenden, the last male representative of one of the
oldest families in England.

The second person, who appeared to occupy a position of distinction at
the dance in the glade, was a lady.

To the eye of Bishopriggs, she was a miracle of beauty, with a small
fortune for a poor man carried about her in silk, lace, and jewelry. No
woman present was the object of such special attention among the men as
this fascinating and priceless creature. She sat fanning herself with
a matchless work of art (supposed to be a handkerchief) representing an
island of cambric in