"No, lassie, that is the suit the Prince wore at Holyrood, where he gave a great ball after Prestonpans, and danced with the Edinburgh ladies. It was smuggled across to France at last with other things of the Prince's, and he gave it to Carnegie. 'It will remind you of our great days,' he said, 'when the Stewarts saw their friends in Mary's Palace.'" Last of all, the General lifted out a casket and laid it on his table. Within it was a brooch, such as might once have been worn either by a man or a woman; diamonds set in gold, and in the midst a lock of fair hair. "Is it really, father? . . ." And Kate took the jewel in her hand. "Yes, the Prince's hair--his wedding present to Sheena Macpherson." Kate kissed it fervently, and passed it to Janet, who placed it carefully in the box, while the General made believe to laugh. "Your mother wore the brooch on great occasions, and you will do the same, Kit, for auld lang syne. There are two or three families left in Perthshire that will like to see it on your breast." "Yes, and there will maybe be more than two or three that will like to see the lady that wears it." This from Janet. "Your compliments are a little late, and you may keep them to yourself, Janet; it would have been kinder to tell me. . . ." "Tell you what?" And the General looked very provoking. "I hate to be beaten." Kate first looked angry, and then laughed. "What else is there to see?" "There is the gallery, which is the one feature in our poor house, and we will try to reach it from the Duke's hiding-place, for it was a cleverly designed hole, and had its stair up as well as down." And then they all came out into one of the strangest rooms you could find in Scotland, and one that left a pleasant picture in their minds who had seen it lit of a winter night, and the wood burning on the hearth, and Kate dancing a reel with Lord Hay or some other brisk young man, while the General looked on from one of the deep window recesses. The gallery extended over the hall and Kate's drawing-room, and measured fifty feet long from end to end. The upper part of the walls was divided into compartments by an arcading, made of painted pilasters and flat arches. Each compartment had a motto, and this was on one side of the fireplace: A nice wyfe and A back doore Oft maketh a rich Man poore. And on the other:-- Give liberalye To neidfvl folke Denye nane of Them al for litle Thow knawest heir In this lyfe of what Chaunce may the Befall.