y recalling these particulars--But go on,--and may
my present agony be accepted as additional penance for the involuntary
crime!"

"She had been absent some months," continued Elspeth, "when I was ae
night watching in my hut the return of my husband from fishing, and
shedding in private those bitter tears that my proud spirit wrung frae
me whenever I thought on my disgrace. The sneck was drawn, and the
Countess your mother entered my dwelling. I thought I had seen a
spectre, for even in the height of my favour, this was an honour she had
never done me, and she looked as pale and ghastly as if she had risen
from the grave. She sat down, and wrung the draps from her hair and
cloak,--for the night was drizzling, and her walk had been through the
plantations, that were a' loaded with dew. I only mention these things
that you may understand how weel that night lives in my memory,--and weel
it may. I was surprised to see her, but I durstna speak first, mair than
if I had seen a phantom-- Na, I durst not, my lord, I that hae seen mony
sights of terror, and never shook at them. Sae, after a silence, she
said, Elspeth Cheyne (for she always gave me my maiden name), are not ye
the daughter of that Reginald Cheyne who died to save his master, Lord
Glenallan, on the field of Sheriffmuir?' And I answered her as proudly
as hersell nearly--As sure as you are the daughter of that Earl of
Glenallan whom my father saved that day by his own death.'"

Here she made a deep pause.

"And what followed?--what followed?--For Heaven's sake, good woman--But why
should I use that word?--Yet, good or bad, I command you to tell me."

"And little I should value earthly command," answered Elspeth, "were
there not a voice that has spoken to me sleeping and waking, that drives
me forward to tell this sad tale. Aweel, my Lord--the Countess said to
me, My son loves Eveline Neville--they are agreed--they are plighted:
should they have a son, my right over Glenallan merges--I sink from
that moment from a Countess into a miserable stipendiary dowager, I
who brought lands and vassals, and high blood and ancient fame, to my
husband, I must cease to be mistress when my son has an heir-male. But
I care not for that--had he married any but one of the hated Nevilles,
I had been patient. But for them--that they and their descendants should
enjoy the right and honours of my ancestors, goes through my heart like
a two-edged dirk. And this girl--I detest her!'--And