CHAPTER III.
"Stay, delightful Dream; Let him within his pleasant garden walk; Give him her arm--of blessings let them talk."-- CRABBE.
"There, Robert, there! now you can see the new stables.

By Jove, they are the completest thing in the three kingdoms!" "Quite a pile! But is that the house?
You lodge your horses more magnificently than yourself." "But is it not a beautiful cottage ?--to be sure, it owes everything to Catherine's taste.

Dear Catherine!" Mr.Robert Beaufort, for this colloquy took place between the brothers, as their britska rapidly descended the hill, at the foot of which lay Fernside Cottage and its miniature demesnes--Mr.Robert Beaufort pulled his travelling cap over his brows, and his countenance fell, whether at the name of Catherine, or the tone in which the name was uttered; and there was a pause, broken by a third occupant of the britska, a youth of about seventeen, who sat opposite the brothers.
"And who are those boys on the lawn, uncle ?" "Who are those boys ?" It was a simple question, but it grated on the ear of Mr.Robert Beaufort--it struck discord at his heart.

"Who were those boys ?" as they ran across the sward, eager to welcome their father home; the westering sun shining full on their joyous faces--their young forms so lithe and so graceful--their merry laughter ringing in the still air.
"Those boys," thought Mr.Robert Beaufort, "the sons of shame, rob mine of his inheritance." The elder brother turned round at his nephew's question, and saw the expression on Robert's face.

He bit his lip, and answered, gravely: "Arthur, they are my children." "I did not know you were married," replied Arthur, bending forward to take a better view of his cousins.
Mr.Robert Beaufort smiled bitterly, and Philip's brow grew crimson.
The carriage stopped at the little lodge.