The sounds of autumn were about them now; the hum of insects and the song of the few birds that yet sang; the fragrance of the golden broom and the sweet briar, with a score of other sweet and indefinable scents and balmy breaths. All around them was scenic beauty and peace, and yet with all their great love for each other, their hearts were heavy at the prospect of their future, which must be a life of banishment in India, and to the heaviness of Lennard was added indignation and sorrow. But he could scarcely accuse himself of having acted rashly in the matter of his marriage, for to that his family would never have consented; and he often thought could his mother but see Flora in her beauty and brightness, looking so charming in her smart sealskin and bewitching cap and feather, and long skirt of golden-brown silk that matched her hair and eyes--every way a most piquante-looking girl! Young though he was, and though a second son, Lennard Melfort had been a favourite with more than one Belgravian belle and her mamma, and there were few who had not something pleasant or complimentary to say of him since his return from India. At balls, fêtes, garden and water parties, girls had given him the preference to many who seemed more eligible, had reserved for him dances on their programmes, sang for him, made unmistakable _œillades_, and so forth; for his handsome figure and his position made him very acceptable, though he had not the prospects of his elder brother, the Hon. Cosmo. Lady Fettercairn knew how Lennard was regarded and valued well, and nourished great hopes therefrom; but this was all over and done with now. To her it seemed as if he had thrown his very life away, and that when his marriage with a needy governess--however beautiful and well born she might be--became known, all that charmed and charming circle in Belgravia and Tyburnia would regard him as a black sheep indeed; would shake their aristocratic heads, and pity poor Lord and Lady Fettercairn for having such a renegade son. Flora's chief attendant--a Highland woman who had nursed her in infancy--was comically vituperative and indignant at the affront put by these titled folks upon 'her child' as she called her. Madelon Galbraith was strong, healthy, active, and only in her fortieth year, with black eyes and hair, a rich ruddy complexion, a set of magnificent white teeth, and her manner was full of emphatic, almost violent, gesticulation peculiar to many Highlanders, who seem to talk with their hands and arms quite as much as the tongue. Sometimes Madelon spoke in her native Gaelic, but generally in the dialect of the Lowlands.