this fine work went first, and now
no one examining its remains could have imagined how wonderful it was,
and in its own way how beautiful. This ceiling was of wood, painted,
and semi-elliptical in form, and one wet day, when we knew not what
else to do, Kate and I counted more than three hundred panels. It was
an arduous labour for the neck, and the General refused to help us; but
I am sure that we did not make too many, for we worked time about,
while the General took note of the figures, and our plan was that each
finished his tale of work at some amazing beast, so that we could make
no mistake. Some of the panels were circles, and they were filled in
with coats-of-arms; some were squares and they contained a bestiary of
that day. It was hard indeed to decide whether the circles or the
squares were more interesting. The former had the arms of every family
in Scotland that had the remotest connection with the Carnegies, and
besides swept in a wider field, comprising David, King of Israel, who
was placed near Hector of Troy, and Arthur of Brittany not far from
Moses--all of whom had appropriate crests and mottoes. In the centre
were the arms of our Lord Christ as Emperor of Judea, and the chief
part of them was the Cross. But it came upon one with a curious shock,
to see this coat among the shields of Scottish nobles. There were
beasts that could be recognised at once, and these were sparingly
named; but others were astounding, and above them were inscribed titles
such as these: Shoe-lyon, Musket, Ostray; and one fearsome animal in
the centre was designated the Ram of Arabia. This display of heraldry
and natural history was reinforced by the cardinal virtues in
seventeenth century dress: Charitas as an elderly female of extremely
forbidding aspect, receiving two very imperfectly clad children; and
Temperantia as a furious-looking person--male on the whole rather than
female--pouring some liquor--surely water--from a jug into a cup, with
averted face, and leaving little to be desired. The afternoon sun
shining in through a western window and lingering among the black and
white tracery, so that the marking of a shield came into relief or a
beast suddenly glared down on one, had a weird, old-world effect.

"It's half an armoury and half a menagerie," said Kate, "and I think we
'll have tea in the library with the windows open to the Glen." And so
they sat together in quietness, with books of heraldry and sport a