Henrietta Anna married Henry, third Earl of Carnarvon; Isabella Catharine married Charles, seventeenth Earl of Suffolk; Charlotte married James Buller, father of Sir Redvers Buller; Juliene married Sir John Ogilvay. [Sidenote: NAME OF CRACKENTHORPE] Soon after my arrival, I had gone out alone into the wild park of Gobarrow, on a small mountain pony rejoicing in the classic name of “Pacolet,” and very diminutive. Like Mazeppa, I “urged on my wild career,” and naturally, the ground being quite new to me, lost my way: so far so good, just what a heroine of romance ought to do; so on I went, snatching a fearful joy, until I came to a large grip, which Pacolet prudently refused. I was trying to persuade him to clear the obstacle, when I perceived a man approaching, who promptly came to my rescue, a gentleman, not remarkable for youth or beauty, but at least chivalrous in his offer of assistance. I told him I was anxious to find my way back to Greystoke Castle. My new acquaintance offered to escort me, being bound for the same hospitable dwelling; this offer I gratefully declined, as it would have entailed a foot’s pace, and I preferred a hand-gallop. Pacolet was comforted when he found the grip might be dispensed with, for I was turning my back on home; so following the directions given me, and with the help of a few landmarks, I reached Greystoke in safety, and on coming down to dinner, after a hurried toilette, encountered my friend. Our recognition occasioned much chaffing and bantering, and no small curiosity was manifested as to how I could have possibly made his acquaintance. He was a middle-aged, respectable-looking man, but for all that, the incident of our meeting seemed invested with interest, and when dinner was over, I enquired the name of the stranger, with the secret hope that he might be something in the belted Will Howard line. I hope I shall be forgiven for having been disappointed when I learned that he bore the time-honoured name of Crackenthorpe. “Oh those merry days when we were young”—those happy days at Greystoke! What rides, what stag hunts by beautiful Ulleswater, on foot, on horseback, in boat, up the fells, and on the lake. Untiring, strong, in all the pride of youth and joyous spirits, with those beloved friends, what wonder that I described myself to a distant correspondent on one occasion as having “the courage of a lion, the strength of an elephant, and the appetite of a wolf.” Our feats of horsemanship would have done no discredit to a circus, and our palfreys were so well trained, that we used to dance quadrilles, or waltz in the most approved fashion, and I stoutly maintained that my chestnut, named Montilla, after the Cid’s renowned steed, bore away the palm.