Alan's favourite wine cool from out the cellar; he has
made me work him a pair of slippers from the size of a mouldy boot; and
if he hears of a new tobacco--much as he hates the smell of it--he will
go to the other end of London to get some for Alan. Now you know how
deaf he is; but if any one say, "Alan," even in the place outside the
door, he will make his courteous bow to the very highest visitor, and be
out there in a moment, and search the entire passage, and yet let no one
know it.'

'It is a piteous thing,' I said; for Lorna's eyes were full of tears.

'And he means me to marry him. It is the pet scheme of his life. I am
to grow more beautiful, and more highly taught, and graceful; until
it pleases Alan to come back, and demand me. Can you understand this
matter, John? Or do you think my uncle mad?'

'Lorna, I should be mad myself, to call any other man mad, for hoping.'

'Then will you tell me what to do? It makes me very sorrowful. For I
know that Alan Brandir lies below the sod in Doone-valley.'

'And if you tell his father,' I answered softly, but clearly, 'in a few
weeks he will lie below the sod in London; at least if there is any.'

'Perhaps you are right, John,' she replied: 'to lose hope must be a
dreadful thing, when one is turned of seventy. Therefore I will never
tell him.'

The other way in which I managed to help the good Earl Brandir was of
less true moment to him; but as he could not know of the first, this was
the one which moved him. And it happened pretty much as follows--though
I hardly like to tell, because it advanced me to such a height as I
myself was giddy at; and which all my friends resented greatly (save
those of my own family), and even now are sometimes bitter, in spite of
all my humility. Now this is a matter of history, because the King was
concerned in it; and being so strongly misunderstood, (especially in
my own neighbourhood, I will overcome so far as I can) my diffidence in
telling it.

The good Earl Brandir was a man of the noblest charity. True charity
begins at home, and so did his; and was afraid of losing the way, if it
went abroad. So this good nobleman kept his money in a handsome
pewter box, with his coat of arms upon it, and a double lid and locks.
Moreover, there was a heavy chain, fixed to a staple in the wall, so
that none might carry off the pewter with the gold inside of it. Lorna
told me the box was full, for she had seen him go to it, and she often
th