e, so let's hope it's all for the best."

"For the best!" sobbed Jane McCray, wringing her hands. "Oh!
Alexander, dear husband! can't we stop it, for I foresee all sorts of
misery and unhappiness for them both in the days to come; and it's
cruel--cruel to force the poor child!"

"Nay, my lassie, but it is na force. She is only giving way to Sir
Mooray's wishes, and if my laird here were a proper man, I wad na say a
word. But there, he's gane to town for some days--till the wedding
time, noo--and the sooner its ower the better. Peter tells me that the
puir bairn met young Norton, when they were oot laist, and he tried to
speak to her, but she turned her head, and cantered on."

Jane groaned, and wrung her hands. "I wish I was in my grave, sooner
than see it all come to pass," she sobbed.

"Weel, it's perhaps a sair potion to swaller, Jenny; but be a woman.
What does the puir bairn say?"

"Say? Nothing; only goes about the place pale and wan, with her poor
heart breaking," said the housekeeper; "and when that creature--"

"Hoot, lassie! what creature?" said McCray.

"That popinjay lord," said Jane scornfully. "When--"

"Gude save us, lassie! dinna ye ken yer catechism: `order yersel' lowly
and reverently to a' yer betters;' and that's na ordering yersel' lowly
and reverently."

"When I've seen him take hold of her, as if she was his property that he
had bought, and stroke her hair and kiss her, the poor thing has
shuddered; and once she struggled from him, and came to me to take care
of her--for she only sees him with me in the room--and as soon as he'd
gone she sobbed, as if her heart would break."

"Puir bairn," said McCray; "but he's gane noo, and she'll ha'e a
respite."

"Respite, indeed!" said his wife angrily. "It puts me in mind of the
old time--over five-and-twenty years ago--when my poor dear lady was all
low and desponding because, at the wish of old Master and Mrs Elstree,
she had accepted Sir Murray; and there she was with her cousin, Mrs
Norton, you know, sobbing her poor eyes--I mean heart--away. I declare,
whether it's wrong or right, Alexander, that if that poor young man--no!
poor? nonsense: he's better off a deal than my fine lord, and as brave
as he's high--"

"That's a true word, lassie," said McCray, who was having his evening
pipe and tumbler of whisky and water, his day's duties being ended.

"If that Mr Norton came to me and asked me to help him to run away with
the child,