alone at the Hewan, hoping for nothing or I'll go myself, and see what's in the better than a story from old Jean Moffatt larder." to beguile the endless summer day. Her eyes lighted up with excitement and curiosity. "Oh, Val! if they find you what will they do to you?" she cried with awe; "and where will you go, and what will you play at?" she added, eager interest following close upon terror.

"That is best," said Val; "it's nice to be by ourselves, just you and me. Don't call Jean; she might tell the gamekeeper, and the gamekeeper would tell Harding, and somebody would be sent after me. You go to the larder, Vi; and I'll tell you when you come back what we'll do."

Violet ran, swift as her little feet could carry her, and came back laden with all the riches the larder contained, the chief

There was not a soul visible about the Hewan in the morning sunshine. Old Jean had gone away to her own quarters on the other side of the house, after put-article of which was a chicken pie, old ting Violet's breakfast upon the table in Mrs. Moffatt's state dish, which had been the little parlour · and was busy with prepared for the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. her beloved Grumphy, out of sight and Pringle, who were expected in the afterhearing. The innocent doors and win-noon. Vi either forgot, or did not know dows stood wide open; the child, in her the august purpose of this lordly dish: blue frock, musing on the dyke in child- and when were there ever bounds to a ish dreaminess, had forgotten all about child's hospitality when thus left free to her breakfast. Absolute solitude, abso-entertain an unexpected visitor? She lute stillness, infinitely more deep than had some of the pie herself, neglecting that of the forest, which indeed was full of chatter and movement, and inarticulate gay society, was about this silent sunny place. The bold brown boy, with his curls pushed off his forehead, his cheeks glowing, his dress stained with the moss and ferns and morning dew, and his young bosom panting with exertion, looked the very emblem of Adventure and outdoor enterprise- the young reiver born to carry peace and quiet away.

"I'm awfully hungry," was Val's only response. "Vi, have you had your breakfast? I think I could eat you."

her little eggs, in compliment to Valentine, who plunged into it, so to speak, body and soul; and they made the heartiest of meals together, with a genuine enjoyment which might have filled an epicure with envy.

"I'll tell you what we'll do," said Val, with his mouth full; "we'll go away down by the waterside as far as the linn?

were you ever as far as the linn? There's plenty of primroses there still, if you want them, and I might get you a bird's nest if you like, though the eggs are all over; and I'll take one of Sandy's rods, and perhaps we'll get some fish; "To be sure I had forgotten my break- and we can light a fire and roast potatoes: fast," said Violet, tranquilly;" you are you can't think how jolly it will be always so hungry, you boys. Come in, "We?" said Violet, her brown eyes there's sure to be plenty for both of us; "all one glow of brilliant wonder and deand she led the way in with a certain light; "do you mean me too?" bustle of hospitality. There was a little coffee and a great deal of fresh milk on the table (for old Jean by this time had attained in a kind of vicarious way to the summit of earthly delight, and had, if not her own, yet Mrs. Pringle's cow to care for, and made her butter, and dispensed the milk to the children with a lavish hand) with two little bantam's eggs in a white napkin, and fresh scones, and fresh butter, and jam and marmalade in abundance. Val made a very rueful face at the bantam's eggs.

"Is that the kind of things girls eat?" he said; "they're only a mouthful should like a dozen."

I

"Of course I mean you too — you are the best of them all," said Val, enthusiastic after his pie; you never sneak, nor whinge, nor say you are tired like other girls. Run and get your hat; two is far better fun than one though it's very jolly," he added, not to elate her too much "all by yourself among the woods. But stop a minute, let's think all we'll take; if we stay all day we'll get hungry, and you can't always catch fish when you want to. Where's a basket? — I think we'd better have the pie."

A cold shiver came over Violet as she asked herself what old Jean would say; but the virtue of hospitality was too strong in her small bosom to permit any objection to her guest's proposal. "After all, it's papa's and mamma's, not old Jean's it's not like stealing," Vi said

-

skirts and shoes. Here the true delight
of the truants began.
"Take off your

to herself. So the pie was put into the basket, and some cheese from the larder, and some scones, and biscuits, and oat- shoes and stockings, and I'll put them in cake the jam Vi objected to, tidiness the sun to dry," said Val, who, in his here outdoing even hospitality. "The rough way, took care of her; and Violet jam always upsets, and there's a mess," had never known any sensation so deshe said, with a little moue of disgust, lightful as the touch of the warm, mossy, remembering past experiences; therefore velvet grass upon her small bare feet, the jam was left behind. Valentine shoul- except the other sensation of feeling the dered the basket manfully when all was warm shallow water ripple over them, as packed. "You can bring it home full of Val helped her out by the stepping-stones primroses," he said, a suggestion which to the great boulders at the side of the filled up the silent transport in Violet's linn. The opposite bank was one waving mind. Had it really arrived to her, who mass of foliage, in all the tender tints of was only a girl, nothing more, to "play the early summer; whilst on that along truant" for a whole day in the woods? which the children had been strolling the the thought was almost too ecstatic for trees retired a little, to leave a lovely you see Violet in all her little life had grassy knoll, with an edge of golden sand never done anything very wicked before, and sparkling pebbles. Through this and her whole being thrilled with delight- green world the Esk ran, fretted by the ful expectation. Val put the basket down opposition of the rocks, foaming over upon the dyke, pausing for one last delib- them so close by Violet's side that, eration upon all the circumstances be- perched upon her boulder, she could put fore they made their start; while Violet, her hand into the foaming current, and scarcely able to fathom his great thoughts feel it rush in silken violence, warm and and advanced generalship, watched him strong, carrying away with lightning eagerly, divining each word before he said speed the flowers she dropped into itit, with her glowing eyes. till her own childish head grew giddy, and "We shan't go by the road," said Val, she felt all but whirled away herself, notmeditatively, for we might be seen. withstanding that she sat securely in an You don't mind the ferns being a little arm-chair of rock, where her guardian damp, do you, Vi? If you hold the bas- had placed her. Vi would have been ket till I get down I'll lift you over. But happy, beyond words to tell, thus seated look here, haven't you got a cloak or almost in the middle of the stream, with something? Run and fetch your cloak the water rushing and foaming, the leaves -look sharp; I'll wait here till you come shining and rustling, the whole universe back." full of nothing but melodious storms of Violet flew like the wind for her little soft sound-loud, yet soft, penetrating blue cloak, which, by good luck, was heart and soul—had it not been for the waterproof, before she plunged down with freaks of that wild guardian, who would her leader into the wet ferns. Poor little perch himself on the topmost point of the Vi! that first plunge was rather disheart-boulder on one foot, with the other exening after all her delightful anticipations. tended over the rushing linn; or jump The ferns were almost as tall as she was; the chasm back and forward with shouts and her little varnished shoes, her cotton | of joyous laughter, indifferent to all her stockings and frock, were small protec- remonstrances, which, indeed, he did not tion from the wet. Excitement kept her hear in the roar of the waterfall. But the up for some time; but when her com- fearful joy was sweet, though mixed with panion, far in advance of her, called panic indescribable. "Oh, Val, if you loudly to Vi to come on, I think nothing had fallen in!" she cried, half hysteribut the dread of being taunted with cow-cal with fright and pleasure, when they ardice ever after, and shut out from fur- got back in safety to the grassy bank. I ther participation in such expeditions, suspect Val was rather glad to be back too kept the child from breaking down. She in safety, though he could not restrain the held out valiantly, however, and after masculine impulse of showing his prowvarious adventures-one of which con-ess, and dazzling and frightening the sisted in a scramble up to Val's favourite small woman who furnished the most apseat among the high branches, whither he preciative audience Val had ever yet enhalf dragged half carried her, leaving the countered in his short life. basket at the foot of the tree they reached the bank on the side of the water where the sun shone, and dried her wet

I need not attempt to describe the consternation which filled all bosoms in the two houses from which the truants had

I see something among the trees yonder," cried Mrs. Pringle, running on. Lady Eskside was over sixty, but she ran too, lighter of foot than her younger companion, and inspired with fears impossible to the other. The sun had set by this time, but the light had not waned - it had only changed its character, as the light of a long summer twilight in Scotland changes, magically, into a something which is not day, but as clear as day, sweeter and paler — a visionary light in which spirits might walk abroad, and all sweet visions become possible. Hurrying

fled, when their absence was discovered. | rather dirty, and full of primroses. "They The Pringles arrived to find their chicken have been playing here," said the more pie gone, and their daughter, and Lady composed mother. "She has been here," Eskside white with terror, consulting with cried the old lady, "but oh, my boy! my old Jean Moffatt at the cottage door. Jean boy!" was not deeply alarmed, and could not restrain her sense of the joke, the ravaged larder, and the prudent provision of the runaways; but poor Lady Eskside did not see the joke. "How can we tell the children alone did it?" she cried, with terrible thoughts in her mind of some gipsy rescue - some wild attempt of the boy's mother to take him away again. She was ghastly with fear as she examined the marks on the dyke where the culprits had scrambled over. "No bairn ever did that," cried the old lady, infecting Mr. Pringle at least with her terrors. Lord Eskside and Harding and the gamekeep-through this tender, pale illumination of ers were dispersed over the woods in all the woodland world about them, the two directions, searching for the lost children, ladies came suddenly upon a scene which and the old lady was on her way to the neither of them, I think, ever forgot. It lower part of the stream, though all agreed was like a tender travesty, half touching it was almost impossible that little Vi half comic, of some maturer tale. Becould have walked so far as the linn, the tween two great trees lay a little glade of most dangerous spot on Esk. "Would the softest mossy grass, with all kinds of you like to come with me?" my lady said brown velvet touches of colour breaking with white lips to Mrs. Pringle, whose its soft green; vast beech-boughs stretchsteady bosom, accustomed to the vagaries ing over it like a canopy, and a gleam of of seven boys, took less alarm, but who the river just visible. Over the forewas sufficiently annoyed and anxious to ground were scattered the remains of a accept the offer. Mr. Pringle got over meal, the central point of which - the the dyke in the traces of the fugitives, to dish which had once been a pie caught follow their route to the same spot, and Mrs. Pringle's rueful gaze at once. A thus all was excitement and alarm in the mass of half faded primroses, mixed with peaceful place. "It is not the linn I fear the pretty though scentless blue violet it is those wild folk," cried poor Lady which grows along with them, lay dropped Eskside in the misery of her suspense, about in all directions, having apparently forgetting that it was her adversary's wife been crazily propped up as an ornament who was also her fellow-sufferer. But to the rustic dinner table. Against the good Mrs. Pringle was nobody's adversa- further tree were the little runaways ry, and had long ago given up all thought Violet huddled up in her blue cloak, with of the Eskside lordship. She received nothing of her visible but her little head this agitated confidence calmly. "They slightly thrown back, leaning half on the could have no reason to carry off my little tree, half on her companion, who, supVi," she said, with unanswerable good porting himself against the trunk, gave sense. The two ladies drove down the her a loyal shoulder to rest upon. other side of the hill to the water-side, a little girl had cried herself to sleep – little below the linn, and leaving the car- tears were still upon her long eyelashes, riage, walked up the stream-one of and the little pouting rose-mouth was them at least with such tortures of anxiety drawn down at the corners. But Valenin her breast, as the mother of an only tine was not sleeping. He was ponderchild alone can know. Mrs. Pringle was ing terrible thoughts under his knitted a little uneasy too, but her boys had been brows. How he was ever to get home — in so many scrapes, out of which they had how he was ever to get her home! The scrambled with perfect safety, that her boy was chilled and depressed and worn feelings were softened by long usage. out, and awful anticipations were in his At the linn some traces were visible, mind. What would happen if they had which still further consoled Violet's moth- to stay there all night through the mider, but did not affect Lady Eskside Vio- night darkness, among the stirrings of let's little handkerchief to wit, very wet, the mysterious woods? Val knew what

The

strange sounds the woods make when it is dark, and you are alone in them and a whole night! His mind was too much confused to hear the soft steps of the two ladies who stood behind the other big beech, looking, without a word, at this pretty scene Lady Eskside, for her part, too much overpowered by the sudden sense of relief to be able to speak. I am not sure that a momentary regret over her chicken pie did not make itself felt in Mrs. Pringle's soul; but she, too, paused with a little emotion to look at the unconscious baby-pair, leaning against each other in mutual support; the little woman overwhelmed with remorse and fatigue, the little man moody and penitent over the dregs of the feast, and the wild career of pleasure past. But just then there came a crash of branches, and louder steps resounding down the brae among the ferns, which made Val's face light up with hope and shame, and woke little Violet from her momentary oblivion. Lord Eskside's party of beaters, and Mr. Pringle, solitary but vigorous, all converged at the same moment upon this spot. "Here, my lord," said Willie Maitland's hearty voice, with laughter that made the woods ring-"here are your babes in the wood."

CHAPTER XII.

ways clean, whom it seemed a kind of desecration to introduce, all rustic and noisy, into the shadowy world of the Greek drama. Mr. Grinder, I am afraid, had looked with lenient eye upon his pupil's absence on that June day. He had not reported the truant, but reconciled himself easily to the want of him; and it was only when the day was almost over that he had taken fright at the boy's prolonged absence. Lady Eskside could not forgive him the panic he had caused her, and as soon as the most exquisite politeness and delicate pretences of regret made it possible, Mr. Grinder and his knick-knacks were got rid of; and a hard-working student from Edinburgh College, toiling mightily to make his way into the Scotch Church, and indifferent what labours he went through to attain this end, reigned in his stead. He was perhaps not so pleasant a person to have in the house, my lady allowed, but far better for the boy, which was the first object. The new man cared nothing about the sanctity of the Greek drama, and perhaps did not know very much, if the truth were told. He turned Valentine on to Homer, and marched him through battle and tempest with some rough sense of the poetry, but very little delicacy about the grammar. But he kept his eye upon his pupil, and got a certain amount of work out of him, and prevented all such runaway expeditions, relieving the old people from their anxieties for the moment; for Val was not an easy boy to manage. He had two natures in him, as Lady Eskside said, the one wild, adventurous, uncontrollable ; the other more than ordinarily adapted to social influences. But when a boy gets into his teens he is not so easily kept up to the pitch of drawing-room polish as is a dainty little gentleman of eight in velvet and lace. With the pe

THE exploit of the Babes in the Wood, as Willie Maitland called it, was one of the last freaks which Valentine played in his childhood by Eskside. Mr. Grinder, who was from Oxford, a cultured and dainty young Don, was recognized to be no fit tutor for a child who preferred the woods to the classics, and could not construe a bit of Greek decently to save his life. What agonies Mr. Grinder went through while his term of office lasted I will not attempt to describe. He was a young man of fine mind-one of the finest minds of his day, and that was riod of black jackets the histrionic powsaying a great deal. He loved pictures er begins to wane - temporarily at least: and fine furniture and dainty decorations and when Val at thirteen turned his back as well as Richard Ross did, though per-upon the Dowager Duchess, and fretted haps he was not quite so learned; and when he first saw the great green cabinets in the drawing-room, could barely say the common civilities to Lady Eskside before he went on his knees to adore the Vernis-Martin. It may be supposed how little this dainty personage had in common with the boy, always carrying an atmosphere of fresh air about him, his pockets bulged out with unknown implements, his boots often clogged with mud, and his hands not al

furiously against being taken to make calls, his terrified grandmother thought immediately, not of his age, but of the mother's blood, which made him clownish; and not only thought so herself, but was seized with a panic lest others should think so. It had made her proud to see how far her little Val surpassed in manners the Marquis of Hightowers; but it did not console her to think that Valen

tine now was no worse than his exalted neighbour. For alas! the mother of

Hightowers had as many quarterings on Jing that bewilders the young soul so her shield as his august father, and the much as to see it surging up through boy might be as great a lout as he liked the fair sunny matter-of-fact universe, without exciting any remark or suspicion; whereas poor Val could never be free of possible criticism on the score of his

mother's blood.

and through the world of dreams, disturbing and disarranging everything. This change befel Valentine early. I think it began from that day in the woods, which was full of so many experiences. Even then he had been faintly conscious of

dazzle Violet on the linn-conscious of deceiving her as to their safety when she began to cry with fatigue and loneliness

and he, upon whom all the responsibility of the escapade lay, had to think how she was to be got home. In the chaotic bit of existence which followed, when Oxford, worsted, left the field, and Edinburgh, dauntless, came in, Valentine had a tough fight with this Frankenstein of himself, this creature which already had lived two lives, and possessed a vague confusing world of memories half worn out, yet not altogether extinct, alongside of his actual existence. I do not mean to pretend that the boy was a prodigy of reflectiveness, and brooded over these thoughts night and day; but yet there were times when they would come into his mind, taking all his baby grace away from him, and all the security and power of unconsciousness. Lady Eskside did not know what had come over her boy. She discussed it eagerly with her old lord, who tried in vain to dismiss the subject. "He's at the uncouth age, that's all," said Lord Eskside. "Oh, I hope it is not his mother's blood!" said the old lady. And thus the delightful day of playing truant in the woods was the primary cause of a wonderful revolution in Val's affairs. The grandfather and grandmother made up their minds to deny themselves, and send him to school.

This troubled the serenity of his childhood, though Val himself did not know the reason why. His recollections of the himself-conscious of "showing off" to earlier period of his life had grown very vague in those years. Val had been well disposed to be communicative on the subject when he came to Eskside first. He had shown on many occasions a dangerous amount of interest and knowledge as to the economy of the travelling vans which sometimes passed through Lasswade with shows of various kinds, or basketmakers or tinkers; and once had followed one of them for miles along the road, and had been brought back again much disfigured with weeping, whimpering that his mammy must be there. But children are very quick to perceive when their recollections are not acceptable to the people about them, and still more easily led into other channels of thought; and as he had nothing near him to recall that chapter of his life to his mind, he gradually forgot it. There was still a vague light of familiarity and interest in his eyes if, by any chance, he came upon an encampment of gipsies, or the vans of a show, or even the travelling tramps upon the road. The boy, I think, came to be ashamed of this feeling of interest, and to divine that his early life was no credit to him, but rather something to be concealed, about the same time as he ceased to be the perfect little actor and social performer he had been in his first stage. He began to be conscious of himself, that most confusing and bewildering of experiences. This con- The incident of the Babes in the Wood sciousness comes later or earlier, accord- scarcely made less impression on the ing to the constitution of the individual; side of the other culprit. Mrs. Pringle but when it comes, it has always a con- took her little daughter home, not withfusing influence upon the young mind out some emotion for what mother cin and life. When one's self thrusts into resist the delighted look of absolute sesight, and insists upon filling up the fore-curity which comes to the face even of a ground of the scene, it changes all natu- naughty child, when, out of unimaginable ral rules of proportion and perspective. danger and tragic desolation, it suddenly The child or the youth has to review beholds the Deliverer appear, the parent everything around him over again to get in whom Providence and Power and Suit into keeping with this new phantom preme Capacity are conjoined? But she suddenly arisen, which does nothing but was half amused at the same time; and harass his mind, and puts him out in all indeed the whole household at the Hewan his calculations. Me- how much has regarded Vi's escapade with more amusebeen said about it, philosophies based ment than alarm. "Oh, Miss Violet, to upon it, the whole heaven and earth tak' the pie that was a' I had for your founded on this atom; but there is noth-papa's and mamma's dinner!" said old