here we oft saw the streams running red from the mountains;
But dark are our forms by our blue native fountains.

"For our fame melts away like the foam of the river,
Like the last yellow leaves on the oak-boughs that shiver:
The name is unknown of our fathers so gallant;
And our blood beats no more in the breasts of the valiant.

"The hunter of red deer now ceases to number
The lonely gray stones on the field of our slumber.--
Fly, stranger! and let not thine eye be reverted.
Why should'st thou see that our fame is departed?"

"Pray, do you play on the harp," asked the volatile lady, scarcely
waiting till the first stanza was ended; "and, _apropos,_ have you a
good harp here?"

"We've a very sweet spinnet," said Miss Jacky, "which, in my opinion, is
a far superior instrument: and Bella will give us a tune upon it. Bella,
my dear, let Lady Juliana hear how well you can play."

Bella, blushing like a peony rose, retired to a corner of the room,
where stood the spinnet; and with great, heavy, trembling hands, began
to belabour the unfortunate instrument, while the aunts beat time, and
encouraged her to proceed with exclamations of admiration and applause.

"You have done very well, Bella," said Mrs. Douglas, seeing her
preparing to _execute_ another piece, and pitying the poor girl, as well
as her auditors. Then whispering Miss Jacky that Lady Juliana looked
fatigued, they arose to quit the room.

"Give me your arm, love, to the drawing-room," said her Ladyship
languidly. "And now, pray, don't be long away," continued she, as he
placed her on the sofa, and returned to the gentlemen.

CHAPTER V.

"You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting,
With most admired disorder."

_Macbeth._

THE interval, which seemed of endless duration to the hapless Lady
Juliana, was passed by the aunts in giving sage counsel as to the course
of life to be pursued by married ladies. Worsted stockings and quilted
petticoats were insisted upon as indispensable articles of dress; while
it was plainly insinuated that it was utterly impossible any child could
be healthy whose mother had not confined her wishes to barley broth and
oatmeal porridge.

"Only look at thae young lambs," said Miss Grizzy, pointing to the five
great girls; "see what pickters of health they are! I'm sure I hope, my
dear niece, your children will be just the same--only boys, for we are