"There the signora spoke worthily of
herself," cried Agnese, her dark eyes flashing;
"but strong deeds are the language that she
must learn to use to her enemies. The blood
of the south is hot as its sun; that of the
north cold as its winter streams."

"Agnese," replied Lady Irwin, rising and
fixing a look upon her that made her quail,
so stern—so cruel—it was, "there is blood
flowing in my veins hot and impetuous as in
those of the fiercest barbarian of the south.
There are tales told of the clansmen of my
house which would make even your Italian
heart stand still. The snows of ten thousand
winters will never cool the blood of the fiery
Celt. The days of strong deeds are past, and
this puny generation drags the chain its
fathers burst. Nevertheless fear not. I am
no unworthy daughter of the Macdonalds."

CHAPTER XI.

IT was a bright morning; the sky was
cloudless, and the genial west wind sweeping
over the grass, crisped with hoar frost,
seemed to antedate the return of spring. In
some sheltered nooks, which Catherine well
knew, the violets were already in blossom,
and she was returning from an early ramble,
with a small bunch of these precious flowers,
when Edward came bounding along to meet
her: now followed, now preceded by his
favourite hound, who had caught the joyousness
of his master's spirit, and emulated his
activity.

"Good news, Kitty!" he cried, as soon as
she came within earshot. "Good news, little
sister; what will you give me for my
news?"

"Have you got your pony?" asked Kate
in reply.

"Pony!" retorted Edward, scornfully.
"Don't I tell you it's great news—news for
you, my darling!" and he flung his arms
about her and kissed her.

There was a fluttering motion at Kitty's
heart; the colour left her cheeks, and. she
looked at him trembling.

"Well, why don't you guess? Why don't
you laugh, or cry, or do something, Kitty?
You couldn't look worse if I had said the
news was bad. Come, haven't you a bit of
Pandora's curiosity? Must I take my glorious
news home again, because you won't give the
least touch to the lid?"

"I know you are going to see Frank," said
Kitty, tremulously. "Lady Irwin told me
about it yesterday morning."

"No, that's not it. Guess again? But
there, I won't torture you, dear. Strange,
isn't it, Kate, that a man of taste like Frank,
shouldn't like Italy?"

"If that's your news, Edward, I had a
shrewd guess of it before."

"Why, of course you had, when he began
at the top of the sheet with O! how am I to
exist another day without you! and ended at
the bottom of the fourth side with—I feel
convinced I must expire if I don't see you
tomorrow—all four sides written close and
crossed, and all to the same tune."

"You are a saucy boy, Edward, and want
to provoke me to show you Frank's letters.
You know well enough he never crosses
them, and that there is often room for a
great deal more when he finishes."

"With 'Yours till death, eternally and for
ever.' Well, I'm sure I don't know what a
love-letter is like, and I don't suppose I ever
shall. I daresay Frank's letters are just
what they should be, or that you think them
so—which is quite as good; but l can tell you,
you're not likely to have any more of them
just at present, so you'd better make the most
of what you have. I'll bet you Mad Tom to
your father's old cob that he won't write to
you for a month to come."

"Have they heard from him at the Hall,
then?" said Kate, bewildered.

"Yes, truly, have they. In a most
substantial manner has he forced on their
astounded minds the fact that he has a
good stout will of his own, and that he has
no idea of being sent out of the way that
people may worry his little bride out of her
pretty looks. I'll tell you what, Kitty, Frank
has a great deal more spirit than I ever
gave him credit for. You ought to be proud
of him. He has done the very thing I should
have done myself!"

"But what has he done?" cried Catherine,
impatiently.

"O you're coming up at last, are you, like a
shy bottle of ale when it is held to the fire?
Know, O sweet Kitty, that your future
lord has shown himself a fine fellow, and
won't be hoodwinked by my revered and
incomprehensible mamma, and that I came
off this morning to impart to you the intelligence,
that he came home last night, to the
confusion of his enemies, the delight of his
affectionate father, of his devoted brother,
and of his blushing bride. But I say, dear,
what's the matter? Kitty, I say, dear Kitty,
don't be a little fool please, dear!"

The abrupt announcement of the return of
her lover—a joy so sudden, so unlooked for,
was indeed too much for Catherine's strength,
enfeebled as she was by long separation, and
by the wearing sickness of hope deferred;
she would have fallen had not the boy
caught her in his arms. He bore her with
difficulty to the bank at the side of the road,
and was running to seek assistance when his
brother, whose impatience had become
uncontrollable, and who had wandered thus far
in search of his betrothed, came up. A little
water, brought from a neighbouring rivulet
in Edward's cap, and dashed on Catherine's
face, aided in reviving her; the sight of her
lover bending over her with a look of earnest
solicitude did more. He folded her in his
arms, and all the troubled past seemed to
vanish like a dream, or only to be remembered
to intensify the happiness of the re-union.