"Yes, graciously; they told me most graciously: but I know not how it was; he seemed ill at case, suffering in body and in mind. He said as much, I suppose, as is usual and fitting; and yet, methought, under the circumstances, there lacked something of that warmth which might have relighted the expiring flame of loyalty in one's bosom." "The expiring flame of loyalty in your bosom, my Winifred? If I had spoken so, having seen all I have seen!" "Oh! but I have seen enough! I passed through the blackened ruins of the burned villages,--burned by his own orders. I saw the houseless inhabitants of what once were flourishing and happy homes; I saw the helpless children perishing in the snow, the old and the infirm without a shelter; I saw the desolated fields; and I had heard--oh! I had heard how the noblest of the land had been treated on their approach to this city, and I felt that it was for his sake that my husband had been pinioned, that his hands hail been tied with cords; for his sake that he had been exposed to the gibes of the multitude! And there he stood, cold and unmoved, and 'hoped my good lord's health continued unimpaired!' Oh! at that moment my loyalty died within me! and I felt--oh! how agonisingly did I feel--that we had sacrificed all for one who was little worthy of the sacrifice!" "Alas! I have, as you know, long feared that such was the case. His spirit has been early crushed, and it does not possess the elasticity to spring up again. They still retain Perth. Do they expect to hold it?" "The proclamation orders that a public thanksgiving for King James's safe arrival should take place on the 26th; but there were vague rumours that the Earl of Mar had resolved to evacuate the town; still these were only rumours." "A thanksgiving for his safe arrival!" Lord Nithsdale repeated with a faint sad smile; "one for his safe departure would be more to the purpose, I fear. Did you see the king but once?" "It was on my return from Scone I received the good duchess's letter, and you may well imagine I did not linger on the way." "Some one told me the roads were impassable from the snow; that all carriages were stopped, and that even the post was delayed; so I did not look for you to cheer me yet." "I rode from York," she replied, "with Walter Elliot and our faithful Amy Evans." "You, Winifred, who never could be persuaded to mount the gentlest and best-paced palfrey!" "Oh! I forgot those foolish fears, those fears which were bred of too much happiness, and of being too tenderly cared for; I never thought of any fear but one--that of being delayed on my journey." "My own love! that soul of thine will ever have the mastery over that fragile form."