ave had a
peep unobserved, or we should not have broken in on the romp of the
children."

"I think your Royal Highness could make amends for that," said Macleod.

There was an inquiring glance.

"If your Royal Highness would ask some one to see that each of the
children has an orange, and a tart, and a shilling, it would be some
compensation to them for being kept up so late."

"I think that might be done," said the Prince, as he turned to leave.
"And I am glad to have made your acquaintance, although in--"

"In the character of a dancing-master," said Macleod, gravely.

After having once more visited Oscar, in the company of Phiobaire bhig,
Macleod went up again to the brilliantly lit hall; and here he found
that a further number of his friends had arrived. Among them was young
Ogilvie, in the tartan of the Ninety-third Highlanders; and very smart
indeed the boy-officer looked in his uniform. Mrs. Ross was here too and
she was busy in assisting to get up the Highland quadrille. When she
asked Macleod if he would join in it, he answered by asking her to be
his partner, as he would be ashamed to display his ignorance before an
absolute stranger. Mrs. Ross most kindly undertook to pilot him through
the not elaborate intricacies of the dance; and they were fortunate in
having the set made up entirely of their own friends.

Then the procession of the children took place; and the fantastically
dressed crowd formed a lane to let the homely-clad lads and lasses pass
along, with the six small pipers proudly playing a march at their head.

He stopped the last of the children for a second.

"Have you got a tart, and an orange, and a shilling?"

"No, sir."

"I have got the word of a prince for it," he said to himself, as he went
out of the room; "and they shall not go home with empty pockets."

As he was coming up the staircase again to the ball-room he was preceded
by two figures that were calculated to attract any one's notice by the
picturesqueness of their costume. The one stranger was apparently an old
man, who was dressed in a Florentine costume of the fourteenth
century--a cloak of sombre red, with a flat cap of black velvet, one
long tail of which was thrown over the left shoulder and hung down
behind. A silver collar hung from his neck across his breast: other
ornament there was none. His companion, however, drew all eyes toward
her as the two passed into the ball-room. She was dressed in imitation
of Gainsb