ar relation of Edmund, Earl of Cornwall. The triumphant capture
of the coronation chair and the Stone of Destiny and their removal from
Dunstaffnage to England, was contrasted with a terrible famine, which so
affected the vines in particular, that there was hardly wine enough left
for mass.

In the midst of these sharp contrasts of triumph and sorrow, Earl Edmund
returned to England, escorting his widowed cousin Queen Blanche, and
following the coffin of the Earl of Lancaster. They found the King
earnestly engaged in effecting a contract of marriage between the young
Prince Edward and a daughter of Guy, Count of Flanders, and binding
himself to march to Guy's assistance against the King of France.

Ah, had it been God's will that the wife destined for Edward the Second
should have been the pure, high-minded, heroic Philippine of Flanders,
instead of the she-wolf of France, what a different history he would
have had!

For among all the princesses of the thirteenth century one of the
fairest souls is this Flemish maiden, who literally laid down her life
in ransom for her father. It was not Prince Edward's fault that
Philippine was not Queen of England. It was the fault of the ambitious
policy alike of King Edward and the King of France, and perhaps still
more of his Navarrese Queen. They did not know that they were
sacrificing not only Philippine, but Edward. Would they have cared much
about it if they had done?

The regalia of Scotland were solemnly offered at the shrine of Saint
Edward on the 17th of June. Earl Edmund was present at the ceremony,
and after it, "weary with the storms of earth," he went home to court
repose at Berkhamsted.

It was the day after he came home, a soft, warm June day. Clarice and
Heliet were playing with Rosie, now a bright, lively little child of
five years old. In rushing away from Heliet, who was pretending to
catch her, Rosie, to the dismay of all parties, ran straight against her
father, who had just reached the top of the spiral staircase which led
to their own rooms. Vivian, never very amiable when his course was
impeded, either by a physical or a moral hindrance, impatiently pushed
the child on one side. It was the wrong side. Rosie struggled to
recover her balance for one moment, during which her father's hand
_might_ have grasped her, had he been quick to do it; her mother had not
time to reach her. Then, with an inarticulate cry for help, she went
down the well o