, and lovers of quaint old architecture. Queen's Chase had been originally built by good Queen Elizabeth of York, and was pe

o have been the great ambition of the architect who designed it to introduce as much carving as possible about it. Heads of fauns an

e had built for herself. It was there she first heard of and rejoiced in the betrothal of her fair young daughter Marguerite, to James IV. of Scotland. A few years afterward she died, a

arge windows; the taste of the days in which it was built, led more toward magnificence than cheerfulness. Some additions had been made; the western wing of the building had been enlarged; but the principal apartments had remained unaltered; the stately, gloomy rooms in which the fair

order of men: he had always been cold, silent, and reserved. He married a lady more proud, more silent, more reserved than himself-a narrow-minded, narrow-hearted woman

uld not change their nature; warm, sweet impulses never came to them. The mother k

and sentiment. He loved and honored his father and mother, but the rigid formality of home was terrible to him; it was almost like death i

at home, as his father had

en imagined. He married the pretty, delicate Clare Brandon. She was an orphan, not very rich-in fact had only a moderate fortune-but her b

and better bred than Clare Brandon. So the young captain married her and Sir Arthur made them a very handsome allowance. For one whole year they lived in

presentiment of the coming cloud. If the war had not been a dangerous one the young captain would most certainly have sold out; but to do so when every efficient soldier was required, would have been to show the white f

she declared, must be born at Queen's Chase: therefore her son's wife had better remain with her. Randall Vaughan thankfully accep

to her, "so that when I come back you will be strong and

arms around him and hid her

again, my darling," s

er merciful. She remembered nothing after those

He had been her life-the very sun and centre of her existence. How could she exist without him? Lady Vaughan, in her kind, formal w

at it resembled nothing so much as a budding flower, and after a flower, she said it must be named. They suggested Rose, Violet, Lily-none of them pleased her; but looking one day through the family reco