o
was fairly skilful, would get four or five in a day. There were
excursions to be made, and the air of the hills was in itself a treat
to both of them. Though Greystock was so often away at the castle,
Herriot did not find the time hang heavily on his hands, and was
sorry when his fortnight was over. "I think I shall stay a couple of
days longer," Frank said, when Herriot spoke of their return. "The
truth is I must see Lizzie again. She is bothered by business, and I
have to see her about a letter that came this morning. You needn't
pull such a long face. There's nothing of the kind you're thinking
of."

"I thought so much of what you once said to me about another girl
that I hope she at any rate may never be in trouble."

"I hope she never may,--on my account," said Frank. "And what
troubles she may have,--as life will be troublesome, I trust that I
may share and lessen."

On that evening Herriot went, and on the next morning Frank Greystock
again rode over to Portray Castle; but when he was alone after
Herriot's departure, he wrote a letter to Lucy Morris. He had
expressed a hope that he might never be a cause of trouble to Lucy
Morris, and he knew that his silence would trouble her. There could
be no human being less inclined to be suspicious than Lucy Morris. Of
that Frank was sure. But there had been an express stipulation with
Lady Fawn that she should be allowed to receive letters from him, and
she would naturally be vexed when he did not write to her. So he
wrote.

Portray Cottage, 3 Sept., 18--.

DEAREST LUCY,

We have been here for a fortnight, shooting grouse,
wandering about the mountains, and going to sleep on the
hill-sides. You will say that there never was a time so
fit for the writing of letters, but that will be because
you have not learned yet that the idler people are,
the more inclined they are to be idle. We hear of Lord
Chancellors writing letters to their mothers every day
of their lives; but men who have nothing on earth to do
cannot bring themselves to face a sheet of paper. I would
promise that when I am Lord Chancellor I would write to
you every day, were it not that when that time comes I
shall hope to be always with you.

And, in truth, I have had to pay constant visits to my
cousin, who lives in a big castle on the sea-side, ten
miles from here, over the mountains, and who is in a
peck of troubles;--in spite of her prosp