ay. "Pay more
attention to her; and, as for this man, if he will not take notice of
the letter I have sent him, horsewhip him--shoot him, if needs be; for
he is a cowardly hound, the son of a coward father!"

Sir Murray Gernon's eyes flashed, and his dark face grew darker, as he
angrily hissed the latter words, before turning with clenched teeth, and
walking up and down hastily.

"Think he is?" said the Viscount, in a low voice.

"Think!" echoed the baronet, with a world of scorn in his utterance of
that one word.

"I won't stand any more of his nonsense, then!" exclaimed his lordship,
nodding very fiercely. "It's quite time it was stopped, and I'll stop
it!"

Sir Murray gave him a short, sharp look--half assent, half contempt--and
then turned upon his heel, leaving his proposed son-in-law alone.

"What a savage bear he grows!" muttered his lordship, as soon as he was
alone; but the next instant his harsh opinion was softened down by the
recollection of Sir Murray's wealth; and he stood gazing for an instant
from the open window over the lake at the line stretch of park land,
with its noble timber, and recalled the last quiet conversation he had
had with the baronet, when he was requested--in words which told most
plainly of the owners intentions--not to cut down any of the timber, nor
yet to drain the lake.

Five minutes after, his lordship walked into the drawing-rooms, and went
through the whole suite, expecting every moment to see Isa reading on
some lounge; but she was not there. He then walked into the breakfast
and dining-rooms, the conservatory, and Lady Gernon's boudoir, ending by
taking a turn in the garden; but Isa was still invisible.

"Seen Miss Gernon?" he said at last to the major-domo, whom he
encountered in the hall.

"Me young lady went oot for her morning ride a gude half-hoor ago, my
lord," said McCray; when, taking a hunting-crop from a stand close by,
his lordship walked hurriedly away.

"Jenny, my gude lassie," said the old Scot, as he entered the
housekeeper's room some five minutes after, when returning from watching
his lordship across the lawn--"Jenny, my gude lassie, here's the auld
coorse of true love rinning rougher than iver, and our wee pet bairn, I
fear, going to be made unhappy. The ways of the world are very crooked,
and I canna help thinking it wondrous strange that young Norton should
be thrown in our darling's way as he is. I'm pitying him, too, lassie,
for he's a