the dance, she handed her the missing bracelet, saying, "It is such a curious and unusual one, dear, that we wondered to whom it belonged. Br

and two bright emeralds for the eyes. The mouth could be opened, and within was a small cavity where a photo or any tiny object could be concealed. Where her mother had picked it up she could not tell

ull of the success of the previous night's entertainment. Lady Murie's husband h

had gone abroad. He had been in London reading for the Bar, but had spent a good deal of his time up in Perthshire, or at least all he possibly could. At such times they were inseparable;

wonder if you will forgive me if I put a question to you. I-I know I ought not to ask it," he st

with some surprise, though turning just a tri

s Flockart," was his

you want to know about him? You know all that I know. We w

house in London two years ago, soon after you came bac

t not to have said that," she exclaimed hurriedly.

to-day to tell me honestly and frankly whether your opinion of him has i

, and her eyes stared blankly out of the window. "No, I repea

yourself suspe

ve been filled with regret ever since. I had no right to make

lding her hand, and looking fixedly into those clear-blue, fathomless eye

new," she cried, "he would avenge

ittle one?" he asked, surpris

l except dear old dad, who is so terribly helpless, misled,

d the young man. "I kn

nding, he kissed her

wondered. Was she still his, as she had

ain facts which she was hiding from the world, vainly believing them to

demonstrative. He never wore his heart upon his sleeve, but deep within him was that true affection which caused him to worship her as his idol. To him she was peerless among women, and her beauty was unequalled. Her piquant mischievousness amused him. As a girl, she had always been fond of tantalising him, and did so now. Yet he knew her fine character; how deeply devoted she was to her afflicted father, and how full of discomfort was her dull life, now that she had exchanged her school for the same roof which cover

him-was whether she still loved him, or whether the discovery he had made was the actual and painful truth. Tall and good-looking, clean-

h her mother had arranged for the followin

t," he responded. "But if I may I'll come over to-morro

h, "I shan't. I shall be in the glen by the first br

But why should we meet in secret like thi

son," she replied in a stra

enly shy, afraid o

Walter," was her quick response. "Dad is very fond of you, as y

eason you wish to meet

turned the conversation into a different channel, a

ccurred. That was vividly appa

all her ideals, that he could not bring himself to believe ill of her. He tried to fight down those increasing doubts. He tried to put aside the naked truth whi

as no question. Even Lady Heyburn could not deny it when she di

e family papers having been burned in 1452, little remains of the early history beyond the names and succession of the possessors of Balinhard from about 1250 till 1350, which are stated in a charter of David II. now preserved in the British Museum. This charter records the grant made by William de Maule to John de Balinhard, filio et heredi quondam Joannis filii Christini filii Joannis de Balinhard,

r; therefore both Sir Henry Heyburn and his friend, Sir George Murie, had looked

had been daily in her thoughts, and his constant letters she had read and re-read dozens of times. She had, since she left school, met many eligible young men at houses to which her mother had grudgingly taken her-youn

his return, and she had inquired but little about his wanderings. Indeed, she had treated him with a studied indifference, as though his life concerned her but little. And yet if he only knew the truth, she thought; if h

and by every subterfuge, she must endeavour to hide. She loved him, and could, therefore, never bear to hear his bitter reproaches or to witne

d-like eyes which he was trying in vain to fathom. What would he have thought had he known the terrible truth: that she had calmly, and after lo