sandalled slippers, her bonnie dark eyes looking
out at them from under the shade of a pink
satin hat and feathers, this delusion of theirs
was dispelled. Mary's exultation knew no
bounds, and Jamie said, " Can this fine lady be
my daughter?" nervously, and with tears in his
eyes. And Ailsie sat on a chair in the middle
of the floor she had swept so often, and cried,
and pulled off her fine hat, and threw it to the
furthest corner of the kitchen, vowing she would
never leave her father and mother to go and live
with Lady Betty. And Lady Betty, who was
present, was not a bit angry, although the
beautiful hat was spoiled; but began telling how
she would educate Ailsie, and take her to see
the distant world, and how she would dress her
like a princess, and marry her to some grand
gentleman, who should either bear the name of
MacQuillan, or adopt it.

But Ailsie only crying worse at this than
before, she threw a purse of gold into Mary's
lap, and began describing all the good things
she would do for Jamie and his wife if Ailsie
would only come with her; how she would
build them a pretty house; how they should have
servants to attend them, and horses and cows,
and money at command. And Ailsie, listening to
this, cried more violently than ever, with her
swollen eyes staring through the door, out to the
hill that led across to Hughie's. Then, when
Lady Betty had done, Mary the mother began.

Ailsie took her eyes from the open door, and
looked at her father. But Jamie, afraid to mar
his child's brilliant prospects, only hung his
head, and said never a word at all.

Then Ailsie's heart seemed to break with one
loud sob. " I'll go feth!" cried she, " an' may
God forgive ye all!" and rushed out of the
cottage and down the lonan, bareheaded and
weeping. Midway she stopped on the road, and,
pulling off one of her pretty shoes, she flung it
from her with all her might till it struck the
trunk of a far tree growing on the hill that led
to Hughie's.

"That's the slipper to you, for good luck,
Hughie Devnish!" she said; "an' if ever I
forget you to marry a fine gentleman, may the
Lord turn my gran' gowns into rags again, an'
the bit that I ate into sand in my mouth!"

So Ailsie said good-by to home. The next
day Lady Betty and Miss MacQuillan departed
from Castle Craigie for the Continent.

CHAPTER IV.

FOUR years passed away, and Jamie and Mary
had grown accustomed to their improved
circumstances, Lady Betty having proved as good
as her word in bestowing on them all those
benefits which she had enumerated when coaxing
Ailsie away with her. Whether they were
quite satisfied with the freak that fortune had
played with them, they themselves knew best.
When a neighbour went in to see them, Mary
had always some grand talk about " my
daughter, "Miss MacQuillan;" but the Widow
Devnish often shook her head, saying they
were dull enough when nobody was by, and
feared Ailsie had forgotten them.

Ned Mucklehern and Mehaffy the miller
had each consoled himself with a wife long ago.
Hughie Devnish still taught his school, and
his mother still called him in to his supper of
evenings; but he was not the same Hughie, the
widow vowed, never since the night of Lady
Betty's ball, when he had taken the strange
whim of going serving at the castle. That some
one had put a charm on him that night, from the
effects of which he had never recovered, was the
Widow Devnish's firm belief. He was " as
grave as a judge," she said, from morning till
night, all wrapped up in the improvement of his
school, never would go to a dance or a fair like
other young men, and, say what she might to
him, would admit no thought of taking a wife,
though his means would allow of it now, since
he had got some tuitions among the gentry-
folks of the neighbourhood. The Widow
Devnish was very proud of her son, but she was
sorely afraid there was " something on him."
For, strangest of all, once when she came into
his schoolroom at dusk unnoticed, she saw him
looking at a little kid shoe, with long silken sandals
hanging from it. " She'll forget," he was saying,
as he turned it about, and wound the sandals
round it, " of course, of course she'll forget."

All this time, while things had been going on so
with these vulgar and insignificant folks at home,
neither Ailsie nor Lady Betty had been seen at
Castle Craigie. Lady Betty surrounded her
protégée with French, Italian, drawing, and music,
masters. But with these had Ailsie concerned
herself but little. " Hughie Devnish could never
tache me," she would say, coolly, when they were
ready to wring their hands with vexation, " an'
I don't think it's likely ye're any cleverer than
him." However, there were some things that
Ailsie did learn in time. Being observant and
imitative, she acquired a habit of speaking
tolerable French, and when talking English she
modified, though she did not by any means give
up, her brogue. She very soon learnt to flirt a
fan, to carry her handsome gowns with ease,
and to develop certain original graces of
manner which were considered by many to be
very charming in the pretty heiress of Lady
Betty's Indian thousands. Altogether, the
patroness found herself obliged to be content,
though the young lady could read neither
French nor Italian, nor yet could she play on
the spinnet or guitar.

Ailsie's education being thus finished, Lady
Betty set her heart on an ambitious marriage
for her favourite. She introduced her to society
in Paris, and saw her making conquests right
and left at the most fashionable watering-places
on the Continent. Ailsie's sparkling eyes were
enchantingly foiled by her diamonds, and
proposals in plenty were laid at her feet. But
Ailsie, though enjoying right merrily the homage
so freely paid her, only laughed at the offers of
marriage, as though it were quite impossible to
regard them as anything but so many very
capital jokes. Lady Betty did not join in this
view of the matter, but she had patience with
her heiress for a considerable time, as Ailsie
always mollified her displeasure by saying, on her