ot under his arm?" said Brandon.

"I think it is a cocked hat or some kind of hat. I think they wore
cocked hats then in the navy; he was a lieutenant in the navy. You see
some sort of gold lace on it, and on the hilt of his sword."

"Did he die at sea?" asked Brandon.

"Yes. My great-grandfather left this place to his son, and as he died
unmarried it was to come to our eldest uncle, and then to grandmother,
as it did, you know."

"'Its name was Melcombe, and it came from the sea,'" Brandon repeated
inwardly, adding, "Well, the _ghost_ can have had nothing to do with
this mystery. I shall trouble myself no more about him."

"He was only about a year older than my oldest uncle," proceeded Laura,
"for grandmother married at seventeen."

Brandon looked again. Something in the two pictures reminded him of the
portraits of the Flambourgh family. They had evidently been done by the
same artist. Each youth had something under his left arm, each was
turning his face slightly, and they both looked the same way. Young
Daniel Mortimer was so placed that his quiet eyes seemed to be always
regarding the hearth, now empty of warmth. The other, hung on the same
wall, seemed to look out into the garden, and Laura said in a
sentimental way that, considering the evident love she had borne her
grandmother, was not at all out of place.

"There is a bed of lilies that dear grandmother used to love to watch,
and Amelia and I thought it interesting when we had had this picture put
up to observe that its eyes seemed to fall on the same place. They were
not friends, my grandmother and her brother, and no doubt after his
death my grandmother laid their frequent quarrels to heart, for she
could never bear to mention him, though she had a beautiful monument put
up to his memory. You must go and see it, Mr. Brandon. We have lately
had it cleaned, and dear grandmother's name added under his."

"I will," said Brandon.

CHAPTER XIII.

VENERABLE ANCIENTRY.

"Even as the sparrow findeth an house, and the swallow a nest for
herself where she may lay her young, so I seek thine altars, O Lord
of Hosts, my King and my God."--Psalm lxxxiv., Marginal Translation.

Rising early the next morning, Brandon found that he had an hour to
spare before breakfast, and sallied forth for an early walk. A delicate
hoarfrost still made white the shade, and sparkled all over the sombre
leaves of some fine yew-trees that grew outside the garde