In one of the two pictures of her at Slains, if I remember right, she is represented with the baton of her office, with which badge she also appeared at court before her marriage (after this it was borne by her husband in the character of her deputy).  Her husband was a commoner, a Mr. Falconer of Dalgaty, whose reported history in connection with her is curious and deserves to be told, though the old tradition is moulded into so many different forms that it is very difficult to disentangle the truth from its manifold embellishments.  Toward the beginning of the eighteenth century this intrepid and independent lady fell in love with Mr. Falconer, who at first did not seem eager to return or notice her affection.  High-strung and chivalric by nature, she did not droop and pine under her disappointment, but vowed to herself that she would bring him to her feet.  Mr. Falconer coner left the country after some time, and went to London.  The Countess Mary also traveled south the same year, and no news of her was heard at Slains for some time.  Meanwhile, she and Mr. Falconer met, but unknown to the latter, who about the same time became acquainted with a very dashing young cavalier, evidently a man of high birth and standing, but resolutely bent on mystifying his friends as to his origin.  The two saw each other frequently, and were linked by that desultory companionship of London life which sometimes indeed ripens into friendship, but as often ends in a sudden quarrel.  Such was the end of this acquaintance, and one day some trifling difference having occurred between the friends, a cartel reached Mr. Falconer couched in very haughty though perfectly courteous language.  These things were every-day matters in such times, and very nonchalantly the challenged went in the early morning to the appointed place to meet the challenger.  Here the versions of the story differ.  Some say that Mr. Falconer and his antagonist fought, but without witnesses; that the former got the worst of the encounter, and remained at the other’s mercy; that then, and not before, the Countess Mary made herself known to him and gave him his choice—­a thrust from her sword or a speedy marriage with herself.  Others say that it was before the duel that she astonished her lover by this discovery, and that the choice she gave him was between marriage and ridicule.[A]

The fact of her marriage, and that it proved a happy one, is certain.  Mr. Falconer dropped his own name to assume that of Hay.  The countess was a devoted Jacobite and an earnest churchwoman.  When Presbyterianism had got the upper hand in Scotland, and was repaying church persecutions with terrible interest, a Mr. Keith was appointed to the Anglican parish of Deer.  This was within the Erroll jurisdiction, and it was not long before the zealous Countess Mary came to the rescue of the congregation, who had assembled for some time in an old farmhouse.  In 1719 or ’20 she had the upper floor of a large granary