the disinterestedness of my lord's
attentions was a myth which I soon discarded: for in twelve months
subsequent to Mr. Thomas Erminstoun's decease, a letter from Treherne
Abbey was brought to Gabrielle, sealed with the armorial bearings of the
Trehernes, and signed by the present representative of that noble race.
We were seated at our fireside, busy with domestic needlework, and I saw
Gabrielle's hands tremble as she opened it, while that strange, wild
expression of triumph and pain, flitted more than once over her face as
she perused the missive. She silently gave it to me, and with amazement
I read its contents--such an idea had never once entered my simple
brain. Lord Treherne made Gabrielle an offer of his hand and heart,
signifying that if she would graciously incline her ear to his suit, a
brilliant destiny awaited her infant daughter--on whom, and on its
lovely mother, the most munificent settlements should be made. I laughed
heartily as I read his lordship's rhapsodies, becoming a young lover;
and I said, returning the epistle to Gabrielle, "What a pity, dearest,
that we can not have such a noble father for our little Ella!" the
possibility of Gabrielle's marrying a man of nearly seventy never
entered into my calculations for a moment. Therefore my astonishment was
overwhelming when she seriously answered,

"Why can not Lord Treherne be a father to my child, Ruth?"

"Because, dearest, you could not marry him--he is so old."

"But I mean to marry him, Ruth: could you doubt it? Could I have lived
on as I have done without prophetic hope to support me? Think you, if
Lord Treherne were double the age, I would refuse rank, wealth and
power? Oh, Ruth, were I alone, it might be different." She spoke in a
tone of suppressed anguish and passionate regret. "But look on her,"
pointing to the sleeping cherub, "for her sake I would _immolate myself
on any altar of sacrifice_. Her fate shall be a brighter one than her
mother's--if that mother has power to save and to bless! _She_ must not
be doomed to poverty or dependence. No, no! I give her a father who can
restore in her the ancient glories of our race; for my Ella is a
descendant of the chivalrous O'Briens and the noble De Courcys."

"And of the Erminstouns of Erminstoun Hall," I gently suggested, for
Gabrielle was greatly excited.

"Name them not, Ruth; name them not, if you love me. To change their
hated name, what would I not do?"

Alas! thought I, you are dece