Well do I remember that fancy of my happy childhood, and still I wish it had been so, all idle as it seems--strange that ye never met." "Nay, save thyself, Mary, thy family resided more in England than in Scotland, and for the last seventeen years the territory of Buchan has been my only home, with little interruption to my solitude; yet I have heard much of late of the Earl of Carrick, and from whom thinkest thou ?--thou canst not guess--even from thy noble brother Nigel." "Nigel!" repeated Lady Mary, much surprised.
"Even so, sweet sister, learning dearer lore and lovelier tales than even Provence could instil; 'tis not the land, it is the _heart_ where poesie dwells," rejoined Nigel Bruce, gayly, advancing from the side of Agnes, where he had been lingering the greater part of the dialogue between his sister and the countess, and now joined them.

"Aye, Mary," he continued, tenderly, "my own land is dearer than the land of song." "And dear art thou to Scotland, Nigel; but I knew not thy fond dreams and wild visions could find resting amid the desert crags and barren plains of Buchan." "Yet have we not been idle.

Dearest Agnes, wilt thou not speak for me?
the viol hath not been mute, nor the fond harp unstrung; and deeper, dearer lessons have thy lips instilled, than could have flowed from fairest lips and sweetest songs of Provence.

Nay, blush not, dearest.
Mary, thou must love this gentle girl," he added, as he led her forward, and laid the hand of Agnes in his sister's.
"Is it so?
then may we indeed be united, though not as I in my girlhood dreamed, my Isabella," said Lady Campbell, kindly parting the clustering curls, and looking fondly on the maiden's blushing face.

She was about to speak again, when steps were heard along the corridor, and unannounced, unattended, save by the single page who drew aside the hangings, King Robert entered.