"Uncle—Sir Nigel!" said I, in a voice that became tremulous. "Newton—my dear boy, Newton—am I blind that I did not recognise you?" he exclaimed, while he grasped my hand and threw an arm round me; "welcome back to Calderwood—welcome home—and on the second day of the New Year, too! may many many joyous returns of the season be yours, Newton! What a manly fellow you have become since I saw you last in London—quite a dragoon!" "And how is Cora—she is with you, of course?" "Cora is well; and though not a dashing girl, she has grown up an amiable and gentle little pet, who is worth her weight in gold; but you shall see—you shall see, and judge for yourself. The house is full of visitors just now—I have some nice people to present you to." "Thanks, uncle; but you and Cora were all I cared to see." "But how came you to be here alone, and on foot too?" "I left the train at Calderwood station, and wished to come quietly back to the old house, without any fuss." "To steal a march upon us, in fact?" "Yes, uncle, you understand me," said I, looking into his clear dark eyes, which were regarding me with an expression of great affection, which recalled the memory of my mother, his youngest and favourite sister. "Pitblado will drive over with my traps before dinner." "Ah, Willie, the old keeper’s son?" "Yes." "And how is he?" "Quite well, and become so smart a lancer, that I fear there will be a great pulling of caps among the housemaids. I am loth to keep him out of the ranks, but the worthy fellow won’t leave me." "Many a good bag of grouse from yonder fields and the Lomonds, and many a good basket of trout from the Eden, has poor Willie carried for me. But, come this way; we shall take the near cut by the keeper’s lodge to the house; you have not forgotten the way?" "I should think not, uncle; by the Adder’s Craig and the old Battle Stone." "Exactly. I am so glad you have come at this time; I have such news for you, Newton—such news, boy." "Indeed, uncle?" "Yes," he continued, laughing heartily. "How?" "Calderwood Glen is a mere man-trap at present." "In what manner?" "We have here old General Rammerscales, of the Bengal army, who has come home with the liver complaint, and a face as yellow as a buttercup, and his pale niece—a girl worth heaven knows how many sacks or lacs of rupees (though, for the life of me, I never knew what or how much a lac is.) We have also Spittal of Lickspittal and that Ilk, M.P. for the Liberal interest (and more particularly for his own), with his two daughters, rather pretty girls; and we have that beautiful blonde, Miss Wilford, who has a cousin in your regiment—a Yorkshire heiress, whom all the men agree would make such a wife! We have also the Countess of Chillingham, and her daughter, Lady Louisa Loftus, really a very charming girl; so, as I told you, Newton, the old house is baited like a regular man-trap for you."