“And that wad be a light har’st,” said Hobbie; “but, wi’ my young leddie’s leave, I wad fain take down Eishie’s skeps o’ bees, and set them in Grace’s bit flower yard at the Heugh-foot—­they shall ne’er be smeekit by ony o’ huz.  And the puir goat, she would be negleckit about a great toun like this; and she could feed bonnily on our lily lea by the burn side, and the hounds wad ken her in a day’s time, and never fash her, and Grace wad milk her ilka morning wi’ her ain hand, for Elshie’s sake; for though he was thrawn and cankered in his converse, he likeit dumb creatures weel.”

Hobbie’s requests were readily granted, not without some wonder at the natural delicacy of feeling which pointed out to him this mode of displaying his gratitude.  He was delighted when Ratcliffe informed him that his benefactor should not remain ignorant of the care which he took of his favourite.

“And mind be sure and tell him that grannie and the titties, and, abune a’, Grace and mysell, are weel and thriving, and that it’s a’ his doing—­that canna but please him, ane wad think.”

And Elliot and the family at Heugh-foot were, and continued to be, as fortunate and happy as his undaunted honesty, tenderness, and gallantry so well merited.

All bar between the marriage of Earnscliff and Isabella was now removed, and the settlements which Ratcliffe produced on the part of Sir Edward Mauley, might have satisfied the cupidity of Ellieslaw himself.  But Miss Vere and Ratcliffe thought it unnecessary to mention to Earnscliff that one great motive of Sir Edward, in thus loading the young pair with benefits, was to expiate his having, many years before, shed the blood of his father in a hasty brawl.  If it be true, as Ratcliffe asserted, that the Dwarf’s extreme misanthropy seemed to relax somewhat, under the consciousness of having diffused happiness among so many, the recollection of this circumstance might probably be one of his chief motives for refusing obstinately ever to witness their state of contentment.

Mareschal hunted, shot, and drank claret—­tired of the country, went abroad, served three campaigns, came home, and married Lucy Ilderton.

Years fled over the heads of Earnscliff and his wife, and found and left them contented and happy.  The scheming ambition of Sir Frederick Langley engaged him in the unfortunate insurrection of 1715.  He was made prisoner at Preston, in Lancashire, with the Earl of Derwentwater, and others.  His defence, and the dying speech which he made at his execution, may be found in the State Trials.  Mr. Vere, supplied by his daughter with an ample income, continued to reside abroad, engaged deeply in the affair of Law’s bank during the regency of the Duke of Orleans, and was at one time supposed to be immensely rich.  But, on the bursting of that famous bubble, he was so much chagrined at being again reduced to a moderate annuity (although he saw thousands of his companions in misfortune absolutely starving), that vexation of mind brought on a paralytic stroke, of which he died, after lingering under its effects a few weeks.