‘Your most affectionate sister, ‘THEODORA A. MARTINDALE.’ She made two copies of this letter; one she directed to ‘The Hon. Arthur Martindale, Grenadier Guards, Winchester;’ the other, ‘Post-Office, Wrangerton.’ In rather more than a week she was answered:-- ‘My Dear Theodora,--You judged rightly that I am no man to trifle, or to raise expectations which I did not mean to fulfil. My wife and I are at Matlock for a few days before joining at Winchester. ‘Your affectionate brother, ‘ARTHUR N. MARTINDALE,’ CHAPTER 2 She’s less of a bride than a bairn, She’s ta’en like a colt from the heather, With sense and discretion to learn. A chiel maun be patient and steady That yokes with a mate in her teens. Woo’d and Married and A’ JOANNA BAILLIE A gentleman stood waiting at the door of a house not far from the Winchester barracks. ‘Is my brother at home, James?’ as the servant gave a start of surprise and recognition. ‘No, sir; he is not in the house, but Mrs.--; will you walk in? I hope I see you better, sir.’ ‘Much better, thank you. Did you say Mrs. Martindale was at home?’ ‘Yes, sir; Mr. Arthur will soon be here. Won’t you walk in?’ ‘Is she in the drawing-room?’ ‘No, I do not think so, sir. She went up-stairs when she came in.’ ‘Very well. I’ll send up my card,’ said he, entering, and the man as he took it, said, with emphasis, and a pleading look, ‘She is a very nice young lady, sir,’ then opened a room door. He suddenly announced, ‘Mr. Martindale,’ and that gentleman unexpectedly found himself in the presence of a young girl, who rose in such confusion that he could not look at her as he shook her by the hand, saying, ‘Is Arthur near home?’ ‘Yes--no--yes; at least, he’ll come soon,’ was the reply, as if she hardly knew what her words were. ‘Were you going out?’ he asked, seeing a bonnet on the sofa. ‘No, thank you,--at least I mean, I’m just come in. He went to speak to some one, and I came to finish my letter. He’ll soon come,’ said she, with the rapid ill-assured manner of a school-girl receiving her mamma’s visitors. ‘Don’t let me interrupt you,’ said he, taking up a book. ‘O no, no, thank you,’ cried she, in a tremor lest she should have been uncivil. ‘I didn’t mean--I’ve plenty of time. ‘Tis only to my home, and they have had one by the early post.’ He smiled, saying, ‘You are a good correspondent.’ ‘Oh! I must write. Annette and I were never apart before.’ ‘Your sister?’ ‘Yes, only a year older. We always did everything together.’