Harry had spent his boyhood in public schools, and, when his education was completed, had defied all the Sandal traditions, and gone into the army.

At this time he was with his regiment,--the old Cameronian,--in Edinburgh.

And in other points, besides his choice of the military profession, Harry had asserted his will against his father's will.

But the squire's daughters gave him nothing but delight.
He was proud of their beauty, proud of Charlotte's love of out-door pleasures, proud of Sophia's love of books; and he was immeasurably happy in their affection and obedience.
If Sandal had been really a wise man he would have been content with his good fortune; and like the happy Corinthian have only prayed, "O goddess, let the days of my prosperity continue!" But he had the self-sufficiency and impatience of a man who is without peer in his own small arena.

He believed himself to be as capable of ordering his daughters' lives as of directing his sheep "walks," or the change of crops in his valley and upland meadows.
Suddenly it had been revealed to him, that Stephen Latrigg had found his way into a life he thought wholly his own.