Robert turned to Lady Glencairn with a smile of apology on his lips. “I ask your pardon, Lady Glencairn,” he said humbly, “for being the cause of this unseemly scene in your presence, but my anger was aroused, an’ I simply couldna’ help speaking my thoughts—I am always doing the wrong thing.” “Oh, nonsense!” she responded laughingly. “Let us forget it and join the others.” She took his arm and they slowly entered the ballroom, where they were speedily joined by Lord Glencairn and a party of friends, who immediately surrounded them. “My dear,” said Lord Glencairn, “do you know that you have left us an unconscionable time? Is there some witchery about yon balcony that I know not of?” and he smiled affectionately upon his wife, whose eyes were shining with happiness. “Your pardon, James, but I’m sure our absence was not noted in such a distinguished assemblage.” She glanced carelessly about the room at the groups of sedate-looking people gravely conversing with each other while they strolled slowly, aimlessly about with much dignity and ceremony, and an almost imperceptible sneer curled her full lips. “Oh, the stiff formality of some of these Calvinistic old fossils!” she remarked contemptuously to Robert. “From all such people, good Lord deliver us,” he replied in a low chant. “Amen!” cried Eppy, looking archly at Sir William. “Give me youth and gayety always.” Sir William looked his unspoken scorn. “You and I may well sigh for youth, Miss McKay,” quavered the venerable Dr. Blacklock. “Many moons have passed since he eluded our clutch and fled, never to return,” and he sighed dismally. “Speak for yourself, Doctor,” bridled Eppy. “I shall never let go my hold on youth,” and she tossed her head indignantly. “Speaking of fossils,” said Lady Glencairn pointedly, turning to Eppy, “I wonder what can have happened to Mrs. Dunlop?” “Oh, she is always late for effect,” she replied spitefully. “Mrs. Dunlop is a very dear friend of mine,” observed Robert quietly, but his eyes flashed with indignation. “I beg your pardon for my rudeness,” murmured Lady Glencairn sweetly. “I understand Mrs. Dunlop is chaperoning a new beauty,” said Lord Glencairn inquiringly to his wife. She gave him a side glance that was far from pleasant. New beauty, indeed! There was only one recognized beauty in Edinburgh and she would not yield the palm to anyone. “I really do not know to whom you allude, James,” she said coldly. The Duchess of Athol, who was standing near, smiled significantly. “Mrs. Dunlop asked permission to bring a young friend, who was visiting her from the Highlands,” she remarked pleasantly. “I do not know her in the least, and they may not come at all.”