“There, lassie, Robert doesna’ care a penny for that lass,” he said tenderly. “She is only a heartless coquette, o’er fond of adventure,” and he laid his wrinkled hand caressingly on the golden head. “Noo look here, Mary, ye mustna’ expect Robert to be an angel all the time. He thinks only of ye, and he loves ye just as fondly, e’en if he does smile and make love to the ladies who throw themsel’s at his feet. He would lose his popularity, ye ken. ’Tis only an amusin’ pastime, lassie, an’ but gives him inspiration for his poetry, so dinna’ take it to heart. Ye ken Rob is highly sensitive, a most temperamental lad, who is very susceptible to the charms of the fair sex, but whist, Mary, he isn’t marrying any of them. There is only one lassie who will be his wife noo, and she’s nae far away from me this moment.” And he nodded his head sagely. “Why dinna’ they leave him alone?” sighed Mary disconsolately. “’Tis very unmaidenly in them to seek for his favor so openly.” “Noo, lassie,” said John seriously, “we maun get Lady Nancy out o’ this scrape, for the house is watched noo by her father, who suspects her presence here.” He walked up and down the room for a few moments plunged in deep thought. All at once his face brightened. “I have thought o’ a scheme, lassie,” he said suddenly. “Let Lady Nancy take this long cloak of yours; ’twill cover her o’er entirely; then she can walk boldly out past her father; he will think ’tis ye, Mary, and will na’ stop her. Ye’re both of a height,” and he regarded her with anxious eyes. “Why should I help her?” said Mary, her heart still heavy and sore. “For Robbie’s sake,” pleaded John. “Her father will blame the lad for it all; perhaps he will shoot him, and he an innocent man. Why, lassie, he doesna’ even ken the lass is in the house.” “Doesna’ ken it?” repeated Mary, smiling incredulously. “Why, John, Robert isna’ blind. If she is in his room——” “But she isna’ in his room, Mary,” interrupted John. “She’s in there, scared to death,” and he pointed to the door opposite. “Oh!” comprehended Mary with a sigh of relief. “That’s different. I’ll help her noo, John,” and she jumped eagerly to her feet, her face flushed and earnest. “That’s the girlie,” replied John heartily. Going to the door, he opened it and whispered to Lady Nancy to come out. “Lud, I thought you were never coming,” she flashed as she hastily entered the room. She stopped short upon seeing Mary. “This lady will help ye get away,” said John, looking angrily at the bogus Lady Nancy. [Illustration: “Mary quickly divested herself of her mantle and threw it about the bare shoulders of the disdainful lady.”] “Where have I seen that face before?” Lady Glencairn asked herself nervously, looking closely into Mary’s flushed, innocent face, that reminded her so guiltily of Lady Nancy Gordon herself.