saw how well the child was cared for, she had to confess that, after all, her son had not acted in the matter so foolishly. Davie, also, she had to own, was "no sic an ill laddie, an' he might turn out weel," adding the old proverb, "It's no the noisiest cart that gangs quickest o'er the brae."

CHAPTER IV.

"The stately homes of England,
How beautiful they stand,
Amidst their tall ancestral trees

O'er all the pleasant land.

The deer across the greensward bound,

Through shade and sunny gleam;

And the swan glides past them with the sound
Of some rejoicing stream."

-F. HEMANS.

N the other side of the Den stood Briary
Park, an old rambling building built in

feudal times, and added to at different periods according to the taste or humour of the proprietor.

Over the ancient doorway frowned the arms of the family carved in freestone, while two massive round towers projecting from the extreme angles of the house gave it something of a castellated appearance. Behind rose a ledge of rocks, on the top of which grew cedars dark as midnight, and pines with needle-like leaves, making shadows into which the sun streamed and lighted up patches of the

yellow and brown moss at their feet. Over the rocks hung many a long wreath of curious creeping plants, while here and there a stray bush forced its roots into a crevice, where one would have thought it could scarcely find nourishment, yet it not only lived, but flourished there in beauty; and all this was varied by clumps of thyme and sprigs of the gentle-looking rock-rose, growing amidst beds of moss which covered the grey stones with a carpet rivalling in beauty the richest tapestry.

To the front was a lawn of deepest green, through the midst of which wound a carriage drive, shaded by an avenue of oaks, the oaks and old building corresponding well together, both having something in common of substantial grandeur. No gaudy flowers broke upon the uniformity of the scene; no gay-looking patches of blue and yellow, inspiring discontent with a feeling of displaced colour amidst an unpretending green. All was in harmony around Briary Park, and one could not approach it without feeling that surely some old Scottish family, proud of its long line of ancestry, resided there. The interior of the building agreed with the outward aspect. It was full of spiral staircases, covered with quaint carving; long galleries, with rooms branching off of various sizes; from the large old hall, hung round with family portraits of mailed warriors and richly-robed dames, to the small pigeon-hole apartments of the round towers.

The oak-panelled library, which opened from the public hall, was a large handsome room, but lighted dimly by small windows.

It was a cold day in spring; a fire burned brightly on the wide hearth at one end, while the other was filled by a heavily-carved bookcase. A table of dark oak occupied the middle of the floor; a thinlegged spinnet and some chairs with leather backs formed the other articles of furniture in the room. The rays of the sun, streaming in through the manypaned sashes, printed diagonal impressions upon the slippery waxed boards (for the floor was only partially carpeted), and lighted up the brown hair of a boy who sat by the table whistling a tune, while he prepared some fishing tackle. His rod and basket were lying beside him, as if he were just about to start for a day's sport.

The boy's complexion was fair, though not effeminately so, while his high forehead, with rings of brown hair clustering around it, harmonised well with the classical outline of face and head.

The short upper lip, and finely-chiselled nostril, told of pride and high birth; and his keen dark eye, though softened with its long lash, testified to a haughty, if not an overbearing, temper.

"Arthur, will you come with me to Grey Craigs?" asked Mrs. Harvey, his grandmama, as she netered the room equipped for a walk; and

then seeing how he was engaged, she said, "You can fish in the stream on our return home, for I see you are making preparations for that purpose."

Willingly, I'll go there, grandmama," answered the boy, "only, pray don't expect me to sympathise with all the people who have ‘sair hosts,' or are ill 'wi' the pains.' What a tiresome set of old croakers you look after, grandmama," added the boy mischievously.

"You will not be called upon to suffer in that way to-day," said his grandmama, "as I am not going to visit any sick person;" adding, "but I do wish, Arthur, I could see you more considerate of those who are less fortunate in life than yourself. Remember, my boy, true greatness consists in thinking little of one's-self, and much of others."

"Dear grandmama," answered Arthur, rising and slinging his basket over his shoulder, "you know what old James says when you tell him I am thoughtless and inconsiderate, 'The laddie is young yet, he'll get sense as he grows aulder; just wait a wee and ye'll see him wise and staid enough.'"

"I most heartily trust it may be so; and I am sure both James and you will allow there is room for improvement," answered Mrs. Harvey, smiling.

"Now, then, I'm ready!" exclaimed the boy, as he took his bonnet from the peg in the lobby; adding