'I have heard a rumour that one of the Melforts who made a pure love-marriage was cut off root and branch.' 'That was poor Uncle Lennard, before I was born. Well--they can't cut _me_ off.' 'They will never consent; and when I am far away, as I soon shall be, if their evil influence----' 'Should prevail with me? Oh, Vivian!' exclaimed the girl, her dark eyes sparkling through their unshed tears. 'Think not of their influencing me, for a moment.' 'Thank you a thousand times for the assurance, my love. It was vile of me to think of such things. I have a sure conviction that your cousin Shafto dislikes me most certainly,' said Hammersley, after a pause. 'I don't doubt it,' said she. 'They mean you for him.' 'They--who?' 'Your grandparents.' 'I know they do--but don't tease me by speaking of a subject so distasteful,' exclaimed Finella, making a pretty moue expression of disdain. He pressed a kiss on her brow, another on her hair, and his lips quickly found their way to hers, after they had been pressed on her snow-white eyelids. 'I love you with my whole heart, Finella,' he exclaimed passionately. 'And I you,' said the artless girl again, in that style of iteration of which lovers never grow weary, with an adoring upward glance, which it was a pity the gathering gloom prevented him from seeing. As they walked slowly towards the house, she quickly withdrew her hands, which were clasped clingingly to his arm, as Shafto approached them suddenly. He saw the abrupt act, and drew his own conclusions therefrom, and, somewhat to Finella's annoyance, turned abruptly away. 'So that is the amiable youth for whom they design you,' said he in a whisper. 'Did I not say you were not to speak of him? To tell you the truth, I am at times somewhat afraid of him.' 'My darling--I must give you an amulet--a charm against his evil influence,' said Hammersley, laughing, as he slipped a ring on her wedding-finger, adding, 'I hope it fits.' 'What is this--oh, Vivian! actually a wedding-ring--but I cannot wear, though I may keep it.' 'Then wear this until you can, when I return, darling,' said he, as he slipped a gemmed ring on the tiny finger, and stooping, kissed it. 'My heart's dearest!' cooed the girl happily. 'Well, Vivian, none other than the hoop you have now given me shall be my wedding-ring!' Had Lady Fettercairn overheard all this she would have had good reason to fear that Finella's twenty thousand a year was slipping away from the Craigengowan family, all the more so that the scene of this tender interview was a spot below the mansion-house, said to be traditionally fatal to the Melforts of Fettercairn, the Howe of Craigengowan--for there a terrible adventure occurred to the first Lord, he who sold his Union vote, and of whom the men of the Mearns were wont to say he had not only sold his country to her enemies, but that he had also sold his soul to the evil one.