fortune for her, and she ought to thank
Heaven for it, as an alleviation of the fate awaiting her if he had not
interceded for her.

This letter was a lightning stroke for Mary: only, as she did not wish
to give her enemies the delight of seeing her suffer, she contained her
grief, and, turning to William Douglas--

"My lord," said she, "this letter contains news that you doubtless know
already, for although we are not children by the same mother, he who
writes to me is related to us in the same degree, and will not have
desired to write to his sister without writing to his brother at the
same time; besides, as a good son, he will have desired to acquaint his
mother with the unlooked-for greatness that has befallen him."

"Yes, madam," replied William, "we know since yesterday that, for the
welfare of Scotland, my brother has been named regent; and as he is a
son as respectful to his mother as he is devoted to his country, we hope
that he will repair the evil that for five years favourites of every
sort and kind have done to both."

"It is like a good son, and at the same time like a courteous host, to
go back no farther into the history of Scotland," replied Mary Stuart,
"and not to make the daughter blush for the father's errors; for I have
heard say that the evil which your lordship laments was prior to the
time to which you assign it, and that King James V. also had formerly
favourites, both male and female. It is true that they add that the ones
as ill rewarded his friendship as the others his love. In this, if
you are ignorant of it, my lord, you can be instructed, if he is still
living, by a certain. Porterfeld or Porterfield, I don't know which,
understanding these names of the lower classes too ill to retain and
pronounce them, but about which, in my stead, your noble mother could
give you information."

With these words, Mary Stuart rose, and, leaving William Douglas crimson
with rage, she returned into her bedroom, and bolted the door behind
her.

All that day Mary did not come down, remaining at her window, from which
she at least enjoyed a splendid view over the plains and village of
Kinross; but this vast extent only contracted her heart the more, when,
bringing her gaze back from the horizon to the castle, she beheld its
walls surrounded on all sides by the deep waters of the lake, on whose
wide surface a single boat, where Little Douglas was fishing, was
rocking like a speck. For some moments Mary