eant to keep it for her daughter," suggested Blanche.
"Old-fashioned people used to do that. My mother didn't. She wore hers
when she went to parties, and then had it dyed and made into a
petticoat!"

"My mother was the only girl of the family who lived to grow up, and
grandmother died when she was a little girl, so of course nobody knew
about the dress being here."

Alan was more interested in the next find, which was a complete court
suit--silk stockings, buckled shoes, and all. Then came an old uniform,
moth-eaten long before Dame Alison's careful hands had folded it away.
Its gold lace was tarnished almost beyond recognition, and on it was a
label written in the same delicate handwriting, "Worn by General James
Hunter at the battle of Waterloo, June 18, 1815, where he was mortally
wounded."

"Isn't it ripping?" exclaimed Alan. "I should have liked to see the old
chap who wore this."

At the bottom of the chest were some fencing-sticks, a couple of old
pistols, a box with some tarnished medals once the pride of a soldier's
heart, a bundle of letters, and, last of all, a worn portfolio tied with
ribbon; and inside was written, in the handwriting of Alison Hunter,
Marjory's grandmother, "Chronicles of the Hunter family." She had
evidently meant to arrange them in book form some day. There were old
letters, newspaper cuttings, and a genealogical tree traced in the same
fine hand. Inside the sheet of paper containing this there was another
paper which appeared to have verses of some sort written on it. The
light was growing dim, and Marjory could hardly decipher the words,
"Copied from the County Records at Corrisdale Castle, through the
kindness of Sir Alexander Reid, being ancient prophecies concerning the
Hunter family."

Here indeed was a find. This piece of paper appealed more to Marjory's
imagination than did the dresses or even the uniform. What a pity it was
getting so dark! It must be near tea-time, and they must put away the
things. They did so very reluctantly, laying them all back as they had
found them, with the exception of the portfolio, which Marjory
determined to carry off to her bedroom, where she could read its
contents at her leisure. Alan showed her how to fix the lid of the box
on again, and exactly how to undo the nails in order to take it off.
Regretfully they left their treasure trove and went to tea.

Dr. Hunter did not appear until Mr. Forester came to fetch Blanche; but
when he did com