And Harry, whose capital had shrunk to the final thousand, and whose last expensive purchase remained to be paid for, led the way down stairs in high glee, feeling himself already the second founder of the family, and rich in patriarchal wealth. At the gate, Agnes and Rose were looking out eagerly along the road, from which a tramp of hoofs penetrated into the very drawing-room of Allenders. Little Katie Calder stood upon the summit of the low wall, with one foot on a tree, and Martha a little behind them, looked out with much gravity and concern. Great work-horses, with ribbons at their ears, and elaborate decorated tails, were marching with heavy hoofs into Harry’s stables; and the lowing of Harry’s kine from the fields summoned the new milkmaids to lead them home. You would have thought it the most prosperous of homesteads, with its grey, thin house, and abrupt turret, telling of long descent and elder times; its superannuated Dragon witnessing to the family kindliness which would not abandon an ancient servant; its great farm ranges, new and shining, which testified, or seemed to testify, to present energy and wealth; and its youthful family crowded about the gate, from pretty little matron Agnes to the meditative Lettie, standing by Dragon’s side in the road without. Prosperous, peaceful, full of natural joys and pleasant progress; but Harry’s flushed, excited face, and the coarse pretension of Gilbert Allenders came in strangely to break the charm. “Come along, Agnes, and see them,” said Harry, loudly. “I told you they were splendid fellows, Gilbert. Come, never mind your bonnet; and Gilbert will give you his arm, Rosie--come along.” “Wait till I get a shawl on--for the servants, Harry,” said Agnes, freeing herself from his grasp. “What about the servants? it’s only at your own door,” said Harry, securing her arm in his own; “and the light shines in your hair, Agnes, very prettily. Come away, little wife.” And Harry went on singing-- “There’s gowd in your garters, Marion, And siller on your white hause bane.” to the secret misery of Lettie, who thought he was humiliating himself, and to the great wonder and astonishment of Katie Calder. But Rose drew firmly back, and would not go. Rose was very near hating Gilbert Allenders; so he went to the other side of Agnes, and they walked to the stables together--poor little Agnes, nearly choking all the way with wounded pride, and shame, and fear, lest Harry might be offended in spite of her compliance. “Why has Lady Dunlop never called on you again? and what has become of that pedantic son of hers?” said Harry, when they had returned, and were taking the tea which Agnes hoped would subdue him. “It’s three or four months now since you called on them, Agnes--why does not her ladyship return your visit? and I should just like to know what’s become of young Dunlop.”