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It seemed that Katie was slightly inclined to dispute this proposition, for she twisted up the hem of her little blue linen apron, and held down her head and pouted-but she made no articulate reply.

"Where's little Katie ?" cried Lady Anne, entering the room with a haste and eagerness which gave some colour to her small pale face. "Katie, your mother's ben in the drawing-room, and she says you're to stay."

But Katie still pouted, and still made a roll of the hem of her apron.

"You're no ill-pleased to stay with me, Katie?" whispered Lady Anne, stealing her arm round her little playmate's neck.

"But I'll never see my mother," said Katie, gradually bursting into a little petulant fit of tears-" nor Bell, nor the burn. I dinna want to stay at the Castle. I want to gang hame."

"O, Katie, will ye no stay with me?" cried poor little Lady Anne, tightening her grasp, and joining in the tears.

But Katie, stoutly rebellious, struggled out of the grasp of her affectionate friend, and again demanded to go home.

"Hame, indeed! My certy, ye wad get plenty of hame if I had the guiding of ye," said Bauby Rodger. Gang hame!-just let her, Lady Anne to work stockings, and learn the Single Carritch, and sleep three in a bed. She was to have gotten the wee closet wi' the grand wee bed, and red curtains, and to have learned to dance and play the spinnet, and behave hersel, and see the first folk in the land. But let her gang hame. I wadna stop her. She'll never be a lady; she'll learn to milk the cow, and gather the tatties, and marry a weaver out of Arncreoch!"

Katie had been gradually drying her tears. "I'll no marry a weaver," exclaimed the child indignantly, with an angry flush on her face. "I'll no milk cows and work stockings. I will be a lady; and I dinna like ye, Bauby Rodger!"

"Weel, my woman, I'm no heeding," said Bauby with a laugh; "but though ye dinna like me, ye canna hinder me doing what my lady bids.

There's nae use fechting noo; for your face maun be washed, and ye maun gang in to Lady Betty's drawing-room and see your mother."

It was by no means an easy achievement, this washing of Katie's face; and the mild Lady Anne looked on in awe and wonder as her wilful playfellow struggled in those great hands of Bauby's, to which she was wont to resign herself as into the hands of a giant-for Bauby was nearly six feet high, and proportionably thick and strong, with immense red hands, and an arm nearly as thick as Katie's waist. At last, with this great arm passed round Katie's neck, securing the pretty head with unceremonious tightness, the goodhumoured Glumdalca overpowered her struggling charge, and the feat was accomplished.

Glowing from the fresh clear water, and with those soft rings of hair a little disordered on her white temples, this little face of Katie's contrasted very strangely with Lady Anne's, as they went together through the great stately gallery to Lady Betty's drawing-room. Lady Anne had the advantage of height, and promised to be tall; while Katie's little figure, plump and round as it already was, gave no indication of ever even reaching the middle stature;-but the small dark head of the Earl's daughter, with its thoughtful serious expression, looked only like the shadow beside the sunshine, in presence of the infant beauty whose hand she held. Neither of them were tastefully dressed the science was unknown then, so far as regarded children; but the quaint little old-woman garments pleased no less than amused you, when you saw the bright child's face of Katie, while they only added to the gravity and paleness of the quiet Lady Anne.

This long, gaunt, dreary galleryhow the little footsteps echo through it! There is a door standing ajar. Who has dared to open the door of the great drawing-room ?-but as it is open, quick, little Katie, look in.

Only once before has Katie had a glimpse of this magnificent apartment. It looks very cold - sadly dreary and deathlike, especially as you know that that little black speck just appearing at the corner window

28

Katie Stewart.

is the point of the mournful escut-
cheon put up there, not a very long
time ago, when Lady Kellie died;
and somehow the room looks, with
its dismal breathless atmosphere, as
if solemn assemblies took place in it
every night. Look at those couches,
with their corners inclined towards
each other, as if even now spectral
visitants bent over to whisper in
each other's ears; and here, beside
this great, stiff, high-backed chair, is
a little low one, with embroidered
covers, looking as if some fair antique
lady, in rustling silk and lace, had
drawn it close to a stately matron's
side, and was talking low and ear-
nestly, craving or receiving counsel.
Here some one, with heavy chair
drawn apart, has been looking at that
portrait. Has been looking! — one
feels with an involuntary thrill, that,
leaning back on these velvet cushions,
some presence to whom the fair
Erskine, whose pictured face he con-
templates upon the wall, was dear in
the old times, may be looking now,
though we see him not; and the fair
Erskine perchance leans on his shoul-
der too, and smiles to see her por-
trait. Close the door reverently,
children, and leave it to the dead.

In now through this matted pas-
sage to a room of much smaller
dimensions, with windows looking
over a fair green country to the far
away sea; and this is a living room,
cheerful to see after the awe of the
great drawing-room. At the side of
the great hearth, in which a bright
fire is burning, Lady Betty sits in a
large arm-chair. She is not much
above twenty, but seems to think it
necessary that she should look very
grave and composed in her capa-
city of head of the house-feminine
head of the house, for Lord Kellie
still lives and rules his household.
Lady Betty's dress is of dark silk,
not the newest, and over it she wears
a handkerchief of delicate white mus-
lin, with a narrow embroidered bor-
der. A white muslin apron, with
corresponding embroideries, covers
the front of her dress, which has deep
falling ruffles of lace at the elbows,
and a stiff stomacher which you
scarcely can see under those folds of
muslin. Over her arms are drawn
long black silk gloves without fingers,

and she wears a ring or two of some
Her head is like a tower
value.
with its waves of dark hair combed
up from the brow, and her stature
scarcely needs that addition, for all
the Erskines are tall. Little Katie is
really awed now, and feels that there
is something grand in sheltering under
the shadow of Lady Betty's wing.

Mrs Stewart stands before Lady
Betty engaged in earnest conversa-
Not because Mrs
tion with her.

Stewart is humble, and chooses this
attitude as the most suitable, but be-
cause Mrs Stewart is earnest, and
being in the habit of using the instru-
ment of gesture a good deal, has
risen to make it more forcible. One
of her hands is lifted up, and she
holds out the other, on which now
and then she taps with her substau-
tial fingers to emphasise her words.

"You see, my lady, we have nae occasion to be indebted to onybody for the upbringing of our bairns. My man, I am thankful to say, is a decent man, and a well-doing, and, if we're spared, we'll have something to leave to them that come after us; but I dinna dispute the advantage of being brought up at the Castle. The Castle's ae thing, the mill's anither; but I must have my conditions, or Katie Stewart must come hame."

"Well, Mrs Stewart, let me hear your conditions," said Lady Betty, graciously. "I have no doubt they are very sensible; let me them."

hear

"She mustna be learned to lightlie her ain friends-they're a creditable kindred, no to be thought shame of. She's no to think hersel better than Isabell and Janet, her ain sisters. She's to come to the mill aye when she can win, to keep her from pride she has nae right to. I'll not suffer the natural band to be broken, my lady; though she is to be brought up with Lady Anne, she's still just little Katie Stewart of Kellie Mill. That's my most special condition."

"Very right; no one could possibly object to it," said Lady Betty.

"And she's to get to the kirk. Your ladyship's maid could leave her at Arncreoch, and we'll meet her there on the road to Carnbee kirk, Lady Betty. She's at no hand to gang down to Pittenweem to the

English chapel. I couldna suffer that."

"I will not ask you, Mrs Stewart," said Lady Betty, gently.

"And she's to get nae questions but the right question-book. It's easy bending the minds of bairns, and I canna have her turned to the English way, my lady. I couldna do with that; but, granting a' thae conditions, and as lang as she's happy and keeps in her health, and behaves hersel, I've nae objection to her staying at the Castle."

"Eh, Mrs Stewart, I'm glad!" exclaimed Lady Anne.

"But ye dinna say a word yoursel, you monkey," said the mother. drawing Katie forward. "Are you no proud of being asked to stay wi' Lady Anne at the Castle?"

Katie made a long pause though the anxious questioning eyes of Anne were upon her, and her mother's imperative fingers were beginning to tighten on her shoulder; for Katie was wilful, and would neither be coaxed nor coerced. At last her mingled feelings gained utterance slowly.

"I would like to be a lady," said Katie, stoutly resisting her mother's endeavour to pull her a step forward; "but I like Bell, and I like the burnside-and you, mother."

Well for Katie that she added the last clause-it touched her mother's heart, and interrupted the anathema which she was about to launch at the unoffending burn.

"Bell will be better without ye ye did nothing but keep her idle; and the burnside winna rin away-ye can come and see it and me, Katie. We'll miss ye at hame, for a' the little mischief ye are."

There was a slight quaver in Mrs Stewart's voice; but now Lady Betty rose, with that magnificent rustling sound which to Katie seemed so

grand and awful, to offer, with her own hand, a very little glass of wine.

In a corner near one of the windows, at an elaborately-carved escritoire, sat another young lady, so very silent that it was some time before you became aware of her presence. Materials for some of the "fancy" works of the time lay on a little table beside her, but at present Lady Janet was writing, painfully copying some measured paragraphs out of one manuscript - book into another. Lady Betty, the young head and ruler of the house, was super-careful in "doing her duty" to her sisters; so Janet, now too old for writing copies, conscientiously spent an hour every day, under Lady Betty's own superintendence, in copying medicinal recipes to improve her hand.

One end of the room was filled with a great book-case of carved oak. On the other side stood a spinnet with fragile legs and ornaments of ivory. The middle of the apartment was carpeted, but round the sides you still saw the beautifully clear waxed floor, in which the light glimmered and unwary walkers slid. Great window-seats, with heavy soft cushions covered with dark velvet, lined the three windows at the other end, and an elaborate embroidered screen stood in the corner beside Lady Janet's escritoire. The walls were wainscoted, polished and glimmering like the floor, and some family portraits darkened rather than enlivened the sombre colouring of the room. But still it was a very grand room, and little Katie Stewart trembled, even when bidden, to draw that tremendous lumbering velvet footstool, which looked like a familycoach, to the fireside, and to sit down on it, with her pretty head almost touching Lady Betty's knee.

CHAPTER III.

In the west room, which opens off this long dim gallery, Lady Anne Erskine sits busied with some embroidery. This apartment, too, is wainscoted, and has a slippery waxed floor, only partially carpeted,

and the window is high up in the wall, and gives a singular prison-like aspect to the room. The light slants full on the dark head of Lady Anne, as she bends it very slightly over the embroidery frame, which has been

raised so high that she may have light enough to work without much stooping. Quite in shadow lies this space under the window; but, near the middle of the room, the sunshine, streaming in from the western sky, makes a strong daguerreotype of the heavy massive frame and little panes of the casement. In this shady place stands Katie Stewart, holding a book high up in both her hands to reach the light. She is fourteen now, and as tall as she will ever be, which is not saying much; but those blue sunny eyes, earnestly lifted to the elevated book, are as exuberant in light and mirth as ever, and are, indeed, such overflowing dancing eyes as one seldom sees in any other than an Irish face. Her hair has grown a little longer, and is no more permitted to stray about her white brow in golden rings, but is shed behind her ears, and put in ignoble thraldom. And, with all its infant beauty undiminished, the face has not lost the petulant wilful expression of its earlier childhood-the lips pout sometimes still, the soft forehead contracts but tall, awkward, good Lady Anne looks down from her high seat upon little Katie, and watches the pretty changeful features with the quick observation of love.

The dress of both is considerably improved, for Katie now wears a fine woollen stuff called crape, and Lady Anne's gown is silk. With a point before and a point behind, the dresses fit closely round the waist, and the sleeves are short, and terminate at the elbow with a cuff of fine snow-white linen. Lean and unhandsome are the arms of the quick-growing tall Lady Anne; but Katie's are as round and white as Anne's are angular, and look all the better for want of the long black lace gloves which her friend wears.

It is a very elaborate piece of embroidery this, over which Lady Anne bends, and has been the burden and oppression of four or five years bygone, for Lady Betty, who has had her full share in spoiling Katie Stewart, rigidly "does her duty" to her own young sister; and Anne has been forced to do her duty, and her embroidery too, many a fair hour, while Katie did little more than idle by her

side.

But now hold up higher still, that it may catch the receding, faintershining light, this precious quarto, little Katie. Not very many books are to be had in Kellie Castle which the young ladies much appreciateall the dearer is this Gentle Shepherd; and Lady Anne's embroidery goes on cheerfully as the sweet little voice at her side, with a considerable fragrance of Fife in its accent, reads aloud to her the kindly old-fashioned obsolete book. It was not oldfashioned then; for Lady Betty's own portrait, newly painted, represents her in the guise of a shepherdess, and little Katie sings songs about crooks and reeds, and Amintas and Chloes who "tend a few sheep," and the sentiment of the time sees poetry only in Arcadia. So the two girls read their Allan Ramsay, and fancy there never was a story like the Gentle Shepherd.

Now it darkens, and higher and higher little Katie holds her book; but that daguerreotype on the floor of the bright window-panes, and strong marked bars of their frame, fades and grows faint;-and now Lady Anne not unwillingly draws her needle for the last time through the canvass, and little Katie elevates herself on tiptoe, and contracts her sunny brows with earnest gazing on the great dim page. Softly steps the Lady Anne from her high seatsoftly, lest she should interrupt the reader, stirs the slumbering fire, till half-a-dozen dancing flames leap up and fill the room with ruddy, wavering light. So linger no longer to catch that dubious ray from the window, little Katie, but, with one light bound, throw yourself by the side of this bright hearth, and slant your great Allan Ramsay in the close embrace of your soft arms; while the good Lady Anne draws a low chair to the other side of the fire, and, clasping her hands in her lap, peacefully listens, and looks at the reader and the book.

You need no curtain for that high window-and now the strong bars of the casement mark themselves out against the clear frosty blue of the March sky, and stars begin to shine in the panes. A strange aspect the room has with those dark glimmering

walls, and this uncurtained window. Deep gloomy corners shadow it all round, into which the fire sends fitful gleams, invading the darkness; and the centre of the room, between the hearth and the opposite wall, is ruddy and bright. Lady Anne, with her thin long arms crossed on her knee, sits almost motionless, reclining on her high-backed chair, and looking at Katie; while Katie, with one hand held up to shield her flushed face, embraces Allan Ramsay closely with the other, and reads. Neither of them, were they not absorbed in this wonderful book, would like to sit in the dark room alone with those mysterious shadowy corners, and that glimmering door slightly swaying to and fro with the draught from the windy gallery. But they are not here, these two girls; they are out among the summer glens and fields, beside the fragrant burnside with Peggie, or on the hill with the Gentle Shepherd.

But there is a heavy foot in the passage, pacing along towards the west room, and immediately the glimmering door is thrown open, and with a resounding step enters Bauby Rodger.

"Save us! are ye a' in the dark, my lady?" exclaimed Bauby; "never dune yet wi' that weary book; but I'll tell ye something to rouse ye, Lady Anne. I've laid out Lady Betty's wedding gown in the state cha'mer, and it's the grandest-looking thing ever ye saw. Lady Betty hersel is in the drawing-room wi' my lord. If ye want to see't afore it's on, ye maun gang now."

Lady Anne was docile, and rose at once. "Come, Katie," she said, holding out her hand as Bauby proceeded to light the lamp.

But Katie contracted her brows, and clung to her book. "I want to see about Peggie. Never mind Lady Betty's gown; we'll see it the morn, Lady Anne."

"Do what you're bidden, Miss Katie," advised Bauby Rodger in an imperative tone.

"What I'm bidden! I'm no Lady Anne's maid like you," retorted Katie. "Nobody means that; never mind Bauby," said Lady Anne entreatingly. "I would do anything you asked me, Katie; will you come now for me?"

Again the sunny brows contracted the little obstinate hand held fast by the book-and then Katie suddenly sprang to her feet. "I'll do what you want me, Lady Anne-I'll aye do what you want me for you never refuse me.'

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The lamp was lighted by this time, and fully revealed Katie's flushed face to the scrutiny of Bauby Rodger.

"Oh, Miss Katie, the like o' that!" exclaimed the careful guardian; "such a face wi' sitting on the fire! And what would Lady Betty say to me, think ye, if she saw it, for letting ye get sae muckle o' your ain way?

Katie made no answer; she only pulled, half in mirth, half in anger, a lock of very red hair which had escaped from under Bauby's close cap, and then, taking Lady Anne's hand, hurried her away at quite an undignified pace, singing as she went, "To daunton me, to daunton me," in defiance.

"Ane canna be angry at that bairn," said Bauby to herself, as she bundled up the stray tress unceremoniously under her cap; "she has mair spunk in her little finger than Lady Anne has in a' her buik, and she's a mischievous ill-deedy thing; but yet a body canna but like the little ane. Pity them that have the guiding o' her when she comes to years, for discreet years she'll never see."

Whereupon Bauby, to console herself, caught up the distant music which she heard passing through the long gallery; and being a desperate Jacobite, and traitor to the established government, sang with energy the concluding verse

"To see King James at Edinburgh cross
Wi' fifty thousand foot and horse,
And the usurper forced to flee,
Oh that is what maist would wanton me!"

In the chamber of state a lamp was burning, which revealed Lady Betty's wedding gown, radiant in its rich stiff folds, spread at full length upon the bed for the inspection of the new comers. But at the foot of the bed, leaning upon the heavy massy pillar which supported the faded splendour of its canopy, stood a figure very unlike the dress. It was Lady Janet Erskine, now a tall, pale, rather graceful young woman of two

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