"It was indeed a household wreck," said Salome, with sigh of sincere
sympathy.

"Ye may say that, leddy, and mak' na mistake."

"What is that lofty mountain-top that I see on the edge of the horizon
away to the north, just fading in the twilight?" inquired Salome, partly
to divert the dame from her gloomy thoughts.

"Yon? Ay. Yon will be, Ben Lone. It will be twenty miles awa', gin it be
a furlong. Our young laird had a braw hunting lodge there, where in the
season he was wont to spend weeks thegither wi' his kinsman, Johnnie
Scott, for the young laird was unco' fond of deer stalking, and sic like
sport. I dinna ken wha owns the lodge now, or whether it went wi' the
lave of the estate," said Dame Girzie, with a deep sigh.

"It is growing quite chilly up here," said Salome, shivering, and drawing
her little red shawl more closely around her slight frame. "I think we
will go down now, Mrs. Ross. And if you will be so good as to come to me
after tea, this evening, I shall like to hear the story of this sorrowful
family wreck," she added, as she turned to leave the place.

That evening, as the heiress sat in the small drawing room appropriated
to her own use, the housekeeper rapped and was admitted.

And after seating herself at the bidding of her young mistress, Girzie
Ross opened her mouth and told the true story of the fall of Lone, as I
have already told to my readers.

"And this devoted son actually sacrificed all the prospects of his whole
future life, in order to give peace and prosperity to his father's
declining days," murmured Salome, with her eyes full of tears and her
usually pale cheeks, flushed with emotion.

"He did, young leddy, like the noble soul, he was," said Dame Girzie.

"I never heard of such an act of renunciation in my life," murmured
Salome.

"And the pity of it was, young leddy, that it was a' in vain," said the
housekeeper.

"Yes, I know. Where is he now?" inquired the young girl, in a subdued
voice.

"I dinna ken, leddy. Naebody kens," answered Girzie Ross, with a deep
sigh, which was unconsciously echoed by the listener.

Then Dame Ross not to trespass on her young mistress's indulgence, arose
and respectfully took her leave.

Salome fell into a deep reverie. From that hour she had something else to
think about, beside the convent and the vail.

The portrait haunted her imagination, the story filled her heart and
employed her thoughts. That night she dreamed of the self-exiled