At the demise of the duke, instead of descending to his son and heir, it would pass into the possession of other parties, with whom it would remain as long the heir should live.
Thus, I say, by the sacrifice of the son the peace of the father might have been secured--for a time.

And all might have gone well at Lone but for one unlucky event which finally set the seal on the ruin of the ducal family.
And yet that event was intended as an honor, and considered as an honor.
In a word the Queen, the Prince Consort, and the royal family, were coming to the Highlands.

And the Duke of Hereward received an intimation that her majesty would stop on her royal progress and honor Lone with a visit of two days.

This was a distinction in no wise to be slighted by any subject under any circumstances, and certainly not by the duke of Hereward.
The Queen's visit would form the crowning glory of Lone.

The chambers occupied by majesty would henceforth be holy ground, and would be pointed out with reverence to the stranger in all succeeding generations.
In anticipation of this honor the "mad" Duke of Hereward launched out into his maddest extravagances.
He had but ten days in which to prepare for the royal visit, but he made the best use of his time.
The guest chambers at Lone, already fitted up in princely magnificence, had new splendors added to them.