r heart to him in
entreaties with the tears running down her lovely face. At first
he seemed much moved, and shifted himself in his chair most
uncomfortably, fairly squirming like a worm on a pin; but, to my
disappointment, I soon saw he was coming back to his usual humour,
even as she was entreating--"Oh, your Grace, your Grace, he is all
I have left in the world! I have been a motherless girl since I
can remember; I have been away from my father, at school for years;
and my brother whom I played with, the one person whom I have prayed
for more than all others, is now in danger of his life"--and she
ended in a burst of sobs.

[Illustration: "Oh, Your Grace, Your Grace, he is all I have
left in the world."]

For answer he merely yawned, and said, turning to me, "What did
you say your name was--eh?"

"Geraldine, your Grace."

"Oh! No particular family, I suppose?"

"No, your Grace, of no family in particular," I answered.

"He! he! he!" cackled his Grace. "Oh, I can see farther than I get
credit for! You, you, you'll remedy that some day--eh? Miss--Miss--
What did you say your name was?"

"Nairn, your Grace," answered poor Margaret, still sobbing, while
Lady Jane stood glowering behind her. My gorge rose at his
heartlessness.

"Nairn. Umph! That's an evil-smelling name these days for any such
petition," he grumbled.

Then suddenly turning to face me, "Now I suppose you had nothing
to do with this barelegged rebellion?" he went on, to my dismay,
but answered it himself with a self-satisfied chuckle: "But no, of
course not. You never would have come here if you had. No, no! No
man of sense would."

"I should think not!" snorted Lady Jane, fairly beside herself.

"Quite right, madam, quite right. You are a woman, of perspicacity,"
answered his lordship, without a ruffle. Then he turned to me
again:

"And pray what did bring you here, sir?"

"Your Grace, it was at my earnest recommendation these ladies were
moved to appear in person to lay their case before the most powerful
nobleman in the Three Kingdoms. They come here, your Grace, not to
plead, but to explain. Their explanation is now made, and they are
satisfied it is in the hands of one who is ever ready to listen to
the suit of innocence, whose whole life is a guarantee for the
exercise of justice, and whose finger need but be lifted to relieve
the unfortunate from unmerited disgrace."

To my surprise, he did not seem so taken with my effort as I h