the departed heroes of his clan, with dreams of war, and love, and battle, diablerie and faery; and with the Boadicea of his imagination, Nighean Donachd Ruadh. A lady who possessed such peculiar and independent notions of matrimonial ties as the chieftainess, and who had gone such lengths to preserve the blood of Raonull free from foreign taint,that is, Saxon intermixture,-was not likely to be easily satisfied with an English bride for her chief, and only son,-no, not even had that bride boasted the blood of Plantagenet. Though unfeminine in her tastes, haughty, violent, vengeful, and irascible in temper as the most fiery of her hot-blooded race, Nighean Donachd Ruadh was highly popular with her clan. Living in the midst of them, and acknowledging no interest but theirs,-bold, generous, and high-spirited, the daughter and the mother of their chiefs, on her person declined the inherited love and loyalty of untold ages. Her prejudices and her pride were also theirs,—her will was law, -her person sacred,—and, to obey her wildest and most arbitrary commands was, by her people, esteemed a duty and an honour. The selected instrument of her ambition or her vengeance, as either preponderated, was Donald of the Dirk. The highest-minded man of her tribe was the most devoted slave of her will. To do her hests was a distinction which he claimed and enjoyed as one of the dearest immunities of his birth and relationship. The chieftainess loved and was proud of her son, though her pride was not that of ordinary mothers. In his fine person she saw the manly strength and peculiar beauty for which the men of her ancient race were distinguished, and she trusted that Ranald would not show himself deficient in the spirit and bravery by which it had been even more illustrated. In manly and martial exercises he already owned no superior save his dark kinsman, Donald of the Dirk, who had been held up as his model, till the spoiled and petulant boy began to hate him. As the young chief grew up, he began to fancy that there might be a fitter model for a chief than a dreaming half-savage man of the woods, his head lost in the mists of poetry and tradition,—his hand red with other blood than that of the deer. At the earnest entreaty of a family friend and ally, who had served in the Low Countries under Mackay, and seen something of a world beyond the Grampians, an Irish priest was engaged as a tutor to the young Chief. An Aberdeen student of divinity was afterwards inducted into the same office; but he, after having ventured gently to chastise his pupil, fled from the valley the first week, in mortal terror of his life. A few months spent in Edinburgh completed Ranald's education. Such was his natural grace and tact, that a short time passed in good society did more in polishing his manners, than years might have effected in the case of a modest and clownish Saxon. Where an awkward, low-country youth, would have shrunk back, conscious of ignorance, and fearful of disgrace, Ranald dashed on, bearing all before him by the ease and charm of his manner, and the elegance of his person. There were people who called his high-bred manner by an uncourteous name, and imputed his success to mingled ignorance of his own defects, and the unconscious effrontery of a spoiled, but spirited and handsome lad. The recent discovery of the value of the oak-bark and timber of his wild territory, had not been without its effect, either on his own character, or his acceptance in society. The marriage of this youth had been an object of anxiety to his mother from and before the hour of his birth. In this anxiety many sympathized. Like the marriage of a sovereign prince, this was a public concern. The daughters of the proudest families in the north, were, one by one, inspected and deliberated upon. Highlanders have as boundless faith in the breed-in the transmission of peculiar qualities, whether mental or physical-as phrenologers. Recoiling from the guile of the Campbells, and the cunning imputed to the Lovat race-despising the cowardice of one family, the imbecility of another, the stunted stature of a third, and the wry noses of a fourth, Nighean Donachd Ruadh had almost resolved to choose and educate, as the bride of her son, the fairest and stateliest girl of his own tribe, provided she was the daughter of a duine-wasal. Yet state policy forbade elevating any particular family so far above their equals; and Ranald was twenty-two, and still unmarried. During her widowhood, and the long minority of her son, the affairs of the chieftainess had been managed by a lowland Bhalie, or factor, Daniel Hossack by name, a person detested as devoutly in the country of Raonull as his employer was beloved. For twenty years this honest man had lived in the glen, every night that he lay down expecting to have his throat cut before morning; but unable to leave the spot where his fold and his flocks increased, like those of Jacob during his servitude. Dread of the vengeance of Nighean Donachd Ruadh protected her minister of finance, whose influence over his lady was frankly imputed to witchcraft-a belief which the honest man rather encouraged as another lawful means of selfpreservation. His value with the chieftainess, who would have esteemed the meanest slave that shared the blood of Raonull beyond a thousand such as this "Saxon churl," arose solely from his power of transacting business with lowland graziers and the aforesaid York Building Company; for the schoolmaster had not yet been abroad in Ranald's glens. By opposing the imperial will of Nighean Donachd Ruadh to the no less sovereign pleasure of her impetuous son, the Bhalie had lately manoeuvred to send the young chief to London, to complete an affair which his sagacity foresaw would be of much benefit to the estate, and perhaps of some little advantage to the manager of the estate, namely, Bhalie Hossack. If Mac Mic Raonull found a wealthy English wife at the same time, here was another collateral good. As soon as the Bhalie heard of the chief visiting the family of that rich goldsmith who had bought most of the standing woods of Lochnaveen, he took especial care to remind him of the many bonds, encumbrances, and wadsets on the estate; and of its immense powers of production, were there only a little "ready capital" to lay out judiciously upon it. As the chief was at the distance of six hundred and more miles, the Bhalie, whose prudence and humanity might otherwise have induced their suppression, regularly transmitted to him certain threatening epistles, sent forth, at peril of his ears, by a certain Lauchlan Mackintosach, notary public, the last, probably, who practised in a philibeg, in the Friar's Vennel of the great northern capital of Inverness. Could the stout sons of Raonull have interpreted his insolent missives, the prokitor's ears would have been but a poor morsel to the huge stomach of their revenge. These letters produced their own sedative effect upon the Chief, even while he swore the loudest that the notary should eat them, ay, as his last mortal meal. The heart of Sarah, a young, ardent, and romantic girl, was no difficult conquest to the gallant and handsome Highlander. Her exalted imagination fought the battles of love, and she was probably, at first, more the dupe of her own fanciful illusions, than of her admirer's assiduities; yet was her young and warm heart finally given as hearts can be but once bestowed. The prejudices, or rather reasonable objections, of the father were composed of sterner stuff than the prepossessions of Sarah against some traits in Highland character. Deeply grieved to think that his daughter had sanctioned the application which the Chief proudly made to him, old Bradshaw decidedly and promptly refused to bestow her on this stranger, the head, at best, of a tribe of lawless barbarians, the inhabitant of a wild and distant region; and, as he greatly feared, not the man, either in principles or temper, that his daughter fondly imagined. The Chief retired from the con Lochnaveen's protracted stay in London was bringing him into closer contact with that new power in society which was ultimately to super-ference choking with rage, and vowing revenge. sede dirk and pistol. Was it better to swim at ease with the current, or exhaust his strength in vainly opposing the stream? Ranald was a man of quick, though limited observation, and, when he so chose, of ingratiating manners. His prejudices, though far from being eradicated, were considerably softened down; or, at least, tolerably well confined to his own bosom; and the nobler parts of his clan-faith, fostered by the enthusiasm of Sarah and Mr Hill, expanded into what Sarah delighted to term, "enlightened, active benevolence towards brave, faithful, devoted people, whom he was as much bound to improve as to protect and defend." In short, in a prolonged residence among the luxuries and blandishments of the south, Lochnaveen began to discover, that an infusion of the aurum potabile of England was needed to enrich that generous blood which had unquestionably flowed in his veins, unmixed with the red puddle of the Saxons, from the glorious days celebrated in the bardic rhymes of Donhuil nam Biodag. The northern Chief, after a few weeks spent in the capital, had been moved to indignant astonishment on finding that the higher nobility of England, who had never even heard of his illustrious name, nor yet of grouse or ptarmigan, since so much admired, did not throw open their doors to him, and court his presence within their saloons and drawing-rooms. Now, in the eyes of Mac Mic Raonull, looking down from his mountain height, the family of Bradshaw, the ancient rich goldsmiths, and the families of the inferior, new-created nobility, sprung from the bar or the counting-house, and the modern baronetage and gentry of England, appeared on much the same level; and the bitter draught of which, he began to think, would, were he doomed to swallow it, be less repulsive, if administered by the fair and gentle girl who had imbibed notions of the manners, usages, and scenery of his country which had been highly gratifying to his clannish pride and highland nationality; and who, with all her natural retiring delicacy and sensitiveness, had certainly showed no decided repugnance to his person and attentions. Sarah, submitting in silence to her father's will, though unable to conquer her own feelings, pined on in uncomplaining misery; and strove to be, or to seem, cheerful and resigned, even when the physician called in by her alarmed aunt, ordered her instantly to the Bristol Hot-Wells. Mr Bradshaw, prudently seconding his daughter's silent and magnanimous attempt to regain lost peace, in submission to his will and his wisdom, had neither openly noticed her noble effort, nor yet the failure of her health in the conflict of her feelings. The prophecies, remonstrances, and tears of the tenderhearted Mistress Bridget were still less regarded by Bradshaw. He knew that Sarah had good sense, high spirit, and strong affection for her own family: she would conquer or die. The latter alternative, he was told, appeared the more probable to the physicians. But not yet would Mr Bradshaw trust implicitly to the report of Mistress Bridget's favourite adviser, Dr Coddler; though a consultation of those gentlemen in whose professional skill he had the utmost confidence, sent the heart-broken father to his friend Mr Hill. "Aaron, few words may suffice between us. You can well guess the untold cause of my present distress. Am I to lay my child in an early grave in her own land, or give her to that scowling, haughty Scot, whose temper will as effectually send her thither, though many a bitter and sorrowing hour may first intervene?" Mr Hill was a kind and benevolent, though a sanguine man. He loved Sarah; that, indeed, was no wonder, for every one loved Sarah, that looked on her, or listened to her; he respected her father, and he had a considerable regard for the young Chief, whose character Mr Bradshaw understood, as he thought, very imperfectly. Lochnaveen's unquestionable admiration of Sarah Bradshaw, pleaded strongly in his favour with Aaron Hill. He was sure that Ranald's natural dispositions were all good. He had been spoiled by a strange cat-o'-mountain mother and a bad education Of his passion for Sarah, the proofs were quite edifying to the translator of Zaire; and Mr Bradshaw shook his head, but did not say, that even those proofs cited, looked as like the ardour of disappointed self-will, as romantic and disinterested devotion to a beloved mistress by a generous lover. "If you could only guess what it must have cost his proud heart to stoop to the daughter of a London citizen ?" and generally on the favourable side; but he had never fathomed the dark depths of clannish ignorance and pride, as they existed at the period of our narrative. He knew that many an English girl would have been miserable in the banishment of the rude Highlands; but, with the man she loved and adored, and the people she blessed, so would not the affectionate and imaginative Sarah Bradshaw. The character of the young Chief, manly and decided, and quite equal to the protection of his wife in all circumstances, was what, to Aaron's apprehension, in this alliance, most concerned Sarah. What signified the clan, or "I wish he had spared his proud heart that mortification," returned Mr Bradshaw, proudly. "If Sarah Bradshaw had not sense enough to resist the fine person, and the other even more absurd attributes and attractions of your Highland hero, she would at least have had sufficient spirit to forget the man that thought not of her." "I am convinced fortune is not his object," the mother, their fierceness, their wild pride, or said Hill. "Very good, Aaron; yet, as there is nothing your Chief needs more than fortune with a wife, you surely don't bring this in proof of his sense." "No, but surely of his disinterestedness." "Pshaw, man! a Highland Scot's disinterestedness in marrying Sarah Bradshaw!-It may, I hope it may be so ;-but don't mention it on 'Change, Aaron, if you would not be laughed at! You have lived in these glens, Mr Hill, till your older and stronger brain is as much excited as that of my poor girl. I trust I was not too proud of my daughter. God knows I never had less reason than now. Yet I fancied Sarah Bradshaw a match." The father's voice faltered; firmly compressing his lips, he was quite silent. "Sarah! your beautiful Sarah, whom I love as my own dearest child, is a match for a prince, Mr Bradshaw! and the bride of a prince she will be, as the wife of Lochnaveen, adored and worshipped as something above humanity. You have no notion of the adoration and reverence Highlanders show for their feudal superiors; nor can I help taking into account the blessing Sarah will prove that this English connexion might be made to the poor gallant people of Lochnaveen's wide grand country. That princely domain, Mr Bradshaw "Ah, Aaron! the poet will break out!" said Mr Bradshaw, shaking his head, and smiling, but mournfully. "I trust Sarah, and her wealth and kindness of heart, may prove a blessing to those wretched, idle, starving, half-naked serfs; but I had hoped my daughter might have proved a blessing to some honest man of her own country and rank, one with whom her own happiness would not have been imperilled, and who would not have quite estranged her from her father's home." Mr Bradshaw faltered and paused. "That was not to be," he rejoined, firmly. "But how is your mighty chief to be managed now, Mr Hill?-for, were he the Prince of Wales, instead of the greater man he conceits himself, the hand of Sarah Bradshaw must, as it is, be asked a second time to be obtained. A London citizen has his pride as well as a Highland laird." Mr Hill, naturally sanguine and speculative a poet; I had almost said, consequently a very kind-hearted man-was delighted with a match which was, partly indeed, of his own desiring and imagining, if not of his contrivance. He had seen the Highland character chiefly on the surface, their rooted prejudices! The world and the experience it gave, had already corrected some of the worst faults of character in Lochnaveen, and had considerably lowered and rectified his inordinate self-esteem. The influence of a creature so noble-minded, and yet so gentle and winning as Sarah, was of itself enough to regenerate any young and generous-hearted man who passionately loved her. Mr Hill had an excellent opinion of Sarah's understanding. Even had her judgment in the most important action of her life been in his estimation as erring as her father feared it was, Mr Hill would have good-naturedly imputed this temporary aberration to that bewildering passion which works the most strongly in the strongest minds, and to no real want of acuteness or energy of intellect. Her education, her cultivated talents, besides being a source of delight to herself in her northern solitude, must, he said, prove of infinite advantage to her husband; and to their children and dependents certainly would. In brief, in the ruminations of her sanguine friend Aaron, Sarah was to diffuse the bless|ings of religion and civilisation among savage clans and roving barbarians," Protestant faith, Whiggish politics, British literature, and English comfort. "What a blessing will that wild country receive in little Sarah Bradshaw!" was his 'concluding consolatory thought. "That I have in some degree been instrumental in sending forth this fair missionary, quits me of all obligations to those kind, generous, hospitable, lazy, thievish, faithful, treacherous, proud, beggarly, brave, goodfor-nothing people, whom I have so long loved and hated, despised and admired!” It was somewhat in this strain that Mr Hill wrote to his oak-wood correspondent the Bhalie, the only man in the glen who, when the Chief and the priest were absent, either wrote, read, or understood one word of English. Mr Hossack, who had the attachment of habit to his young master's person and interests, was secretly transported with the prospect of this rich alliance; but he had that within which made him deem it wiser to allow Nighean Donachd Ruadh, and Donald of the Dirk, the vice-regal guardian of the clan-dignities, to make the discovery for themselves. Even when a letter arrived from the Chief to his mother, announcing this intended marriage, the Bhalie prudently deferred mentioning its arrival till he hoped all was safe, and the knot tied. The composition of this letter had been no easy affair to Ranald. He dwelt rather discursively and at large on the surpassing beauty of his chosen bride considering the venerable years and stern character of the person he addressed. "Donald," he said, "would be charmed with the thrilling sweetness with which his beautiful Sarah sang Aridh nam badan,' and Mor' nighnean a Ghilbarlun, and with her admiration of Gaelic poetry. Her name was Sarah, her family exceed ingly respectable, and connected with Sir Robert Walpole, whose goddaughter she was." Lochnaveen felt his cheek tingle with proud shame when he had thus written to his mother. This information was, indeed, partly false, intended, at least, to convey a false impression; and he was conscious that it was wholly mean and paltry. He shrank from mentioning his intended fatherin-law's profession, and even passed over his name, merely noticing, in a few scarcely legible lines, that the Bhalie would be delighted to learn that his lovely Saxon bride chanced, at the same time, to be a very wealthy heiress; and that with her readymoney fortune they could now pay off President Duncan Forbes's cursed bonds; and, after clearing money scores with Master Tai M'Tai, notarypublic in the Black Vennel, throw his ears into the Beauly Frith, in passing through Inverness, and, if he grumbled, send himself to fish them up again. Finally, he wished a small party of followers, whose names he mentioned-the flower of the youth of his clan-to meet him and his lady in the Blair of Athole; and "if Donhuil nam Biodag would head them, he would have the pride of showing his young wife the handsomest, the truest, and the bravest of the race of Raonull; one whom, from description, she was already disposed to esteem and admire, as the model of a true kinsman and a devoted clansman. The worthy Bhalie would," he said, "do his best to equip the gillies handsomely, and to prepare all in and about the castle for the reception of a lady accustomed from her birth to the elegancies and luxuries of London, but willing to sacrifice them all for the clan of Raonull and its grateful Chief." This letter did some credit to the temper as well as to the address of Ranald. He did not, he durst not, insult his haughty and violent mother by soliciting a consent which he knew he never would obtain; but he wished to conciliate where he could not hope to satisfy. He knew that high ancestry-high, and brave, and Highland ancestry -" a noble strain," was, with her, the one thing indispensable in his bride. She could sleep on the heather couch, quench her thirst at the mountain spring, lace the rough deer-skin buskin on her foot, and live as hardily as the poorest of her vassals, for with them was she not the less Nighean Donachd Ruadh!-the daughter, the inheritor, the representative of chiefs and heroes, who had been terrible in fight, glorious in fame-who had never bent the neck to the Saxon, nor debased their blood by foreign admixture-the descendant of those who, in their own language, remained in their own place, as ancient and as free as the eagle on the rock, or the deer on the hill. When such ideas took possession of the mind of Ranald, he almost sickened to think of his wealthy matrimonial prospects. Was he, then, to be-or to be imagined sordid, greedy, a low-minded chief, a degenerate Gael,-was he to abide the withering indignation of Nighean Donachd Ruadh, or brook the contempt of Donhuil nam Biodag, of his whole clan, and the scorn of his fellow-chieftains, with nothing to place against this fierce scorn save the charms of his gentle wife, and the approbation of his prudent functionary, Bhalie Hossack? Ranald trembled and quailed at the thought of his first northern letters. The Bhalie prudently managed that none should arrive; and the beauty and fascinations of Sarah, to whom her suitor had been led back by Mr Hill, riveted the solemn engagement, to which he gave his whole heart, while his mind, his pride, still fluctuated in torturing irresolution. From the moment that the will of her father, and her own absurd notions of a daughter's obedience, as Ranald scrupled not to term Sarah's weeping refusal to elope with him, whom she confessed she loved, and must ever supremely love, though in hopeless anguish,-had made marriage with her appear unattainable, Ranald's passion had blazed forth with tenfold ardour. His selfwill, never before so thwarted and irritated, had never been half so much excited and solute. Friends, fortune, pride of birth, were alr, for a time, as nothing to the possession of this humble maiden. The judgment of Sarah had been startled by that violence of passion, even while its transports flattered her softer and truer tenderness. But now she had her father's permission to receive her lover's visits; and now again Ranald hesitated, wavered, and admitted doubts. Sarah's self-reproaches for bestowing her affections where her father's judgment and approbation could not follow, had been greatly soothed by Mr Hill's representations of the good which her marriage might give her the power of dispensing in a very wide sphere. Her pale cheek and wasted person, had told both her father and her lover a flattering tale of her devoted love and of her filial submission. Imperceptibly they drew somewhat closer together, until, as time passed, all appeared exulting happiness in the lover, sober satisfaction in the family of the citizen, and fluttering, subdued, and secret rapture in the bosom of the maiden. The order for Sarah's removal to Bristol was first delayed, and then, so rapid was her recovery, countermanded. She removed with her aunt to her father's villa at Richmond; and Ranald again, more in love than ever, gave all his time where all his thoughts hovered. He taught his Mistress to ride-a very necessary accomplishment in her future country-and to speak his language. Mr Hill was already charmed with the imagined fulfilment of his own prophecies. As their common friend, he often joined the lovers, and already remarked, that, under the influence of love and Sarah, the favourable points of the young Chief's character were daily strengthened and developed, and the darker qualities gradually shading off, It was already evident, that, when quite alone “Nighean Donachd Ruadh is not remarkable for patience any more than her son," said he at last; and his internal thought was—“ "But surely sweetness like thine, my Sarah, might soften a hyena, and teach a she-wolf gentleness." He looked at Sarah with melancholy interest—with tender pity, and almost remorse :-the hesitation at this alliance he had often felt for his own sake, he momentarily felt for hers. He kissed her forehead in silence, and with great tenderness. with his beautiful mistress, Lochnaveen-though far from being in general what is called a domestic character —was nevertheless, for the moment, the happiest of the happy. No doubt nor fear then darkened his mind nor damped his affectionate ardour. The enthusiasm and delight with which Sarah listened to his clan legends and ancestral traditions enhanced his pride and enjoyment in these wild and stirring tales. The very simplicity, eagerness, and childishness of her anxiety to acquire a correct knowledge of his native "Ah, Ranald!" breathed the unsuspecting girl, language and customs, and her sympathy in the with a sidelong, deprecating, bashful, gratified, "fierce wars and faithful loves" of the High- | and grateful glance. Touched and subdued, Lochlanders, would, of themselves, at this time have naveen would at that instant have told her his apmade the English girl an object of interest to Ran-prehensions for her future peace-of the impossiald, wrecked in the chill latitudes of London. There for as scornfully as he bore it-he often felt more of the chieftain's swelling and chafed pride than in those regions where his unquestioned claims were chartered on mountains, heaths, and battle-fields, and lived in "the light of song.' In any other circumstances than those in which he was placed, Ranald might soon have tired of playing the carpet-knight and the schoolmaster. But there is a system of tuition- -not precisely the Hamiltonian-which lightens even that "labour dire," and " weary wo"-and Ranald, with such a pupil as Sarah, was quite of the age and condition to discover it. The strangely-articulated uncouth gutturals which Sarah, refusing to lend her throat, churmed or lisped through her white teeth, or murdered with her delicate lips, might at least, on the twentieth mispronunciation, have tired her tutor, had not the means of punishing the error, and revenging his ancient and immortal language, been so tempting, and so like retributive justice; and Ranald was so much of a Highlander, and of a true man at any time, as to relish a taste of revenge far better than the full and fair, but simple quittance of justice in the bond. "I tire you with my blunders," said Sarah one day, smiling and blushing "rosy red," as she withdrew herself from the punishment her lips had incurred by their bad Gaelic, and shook her curls into better order, probably on hearing the highheeled patter of aunt Bridget's approaching velvetclad feet. "I shall give up the study of Celtic literature till I get Nighean Donachd Ruadh for my instructress, and Donald of the Dirk for my professor of poetry; but every lenau-beg and old caillach I meet in the glens will be my teacher then." Fortunately, Sarah was too much occupied in "smoothing the raven-down" of her tresses to notice the rapid change that flashed over the face of the Chief. His heart smote him. "Am I indeed about to peril, to wreck the happiness of this fair and trusting creature?" But he loved her, and he could and would protect her; and Ranald had that excellent and manful opinion of the high value of his own affection, which conceived any sacrifice that the woman blessed with his love made for him was no more than he was well entitled to expect and receivenone could be too great. Poor Sarah, though on somewhat different grounds, was precisely of the same opinion. bility of his abandoning his country usages and the claims of his clan, and of the likelihood that, from his kinsfolk, to whom her affectionate nature looked for kindness, she would meet with fierce contempt and proud scorn, from which even his I love could not always protect her. But Mistress Bridget entered. This good old lady, in the blooming recovered looks of Sarah, and the honourable courtship of her niece by so great a man as she understood the Chief to be, though she was somewhat perplexed about the exact nature of his dignity, appeared to live her early loves over again. Every evening that Mr Bradshaw came to Richmond, he heard the same story told; tender tears floating in the eyes of Mistress Bridget, which, however, drew no sympathetic drops to the harder orbs of her citizenbrother. "Abram, Mr Makmukrandluk is an angel of a young man, as I have always said; and our darling Sarah will be the happiest of women." Mr Bradshaw humphed, but he sighed too; and, as he had some relish of humour, rallied his sister on her sudden conversion to philibegs, and her discovery of angels in tartan plaids. "Mr Hill has explained all that properly, brother; and the diamond knee-buckles, my intended marriage present-and I trust they will be the handsomest Bradshaws and Bradshaw' ever sent from their workshop-is just the delicate hint an unmarried lady can well give on the subject, nor likely to be thrown away on my nephew that-isto-be, Locknaveen-who, Lady Betty Montacute assures me to-day 'was out of sight the handsomest man in the ring yesterday. Indeed, Abram, I must say, confidentially, you are not aware of half the advantages of this connexion. I am assured you may ride twenty miles over the estates of my nephew (that-is-to-be,) and not see a house." "Sarah must be delighted with that lively prospect." "There is, I am told, a bullock killed in Locknaveen's castle every second day-venison, lamb, and mutton, and game, unstinted, and the best of fish-salmon for the servants' hall-table every day of the week, both dinner and supper-which I own I consider extravagant." "Four ounces of beef any day will do for Sarah," said Mr Bradshaw peevishly. "It is surely not for beef she wanders so far from Leadenhall market." "La, no brother! surely not. And more men |