His resolution, whatever it may have been, remained unspoken, for at this moment Lady Hester Rawdon came in, leaning on her nephew´s arm--a frail old lady much broken with illness, who received Gervase with a show of homely kindness, and strongly expressed her sense of the good-will he had shown toward her niece. Motioning to him to sit down beside her on the couch, she drew from him the story of his recent adventure, and Gervase seeing the interest and pleasure she took in the narrative, entered at some length into the particulars of his journey. Regarding the Vicomte de Laprade she made many inquiries--the Vicomte´s mother being her half sister--and regretted the unhappy state of the country that prevented her seeing a lad she was very fond of in his youth. No doubt he was a Catholic, which was to be deplored, but religion should not weaken the ties of kinship. He was of the same age with her nephew Jasper, and a fine lad when she saw him last. That was at Meudon, a great many years ago. There were many changes since then, and she supposed that she would not know him now. These were dreadful times and the roaring of the guns frightened her beyond measure, but there would soon be peace. So the poor lady rambled on. All the while her nephew stood near without taking any part in the conversation. He was considerably older than Dorothy and very like her in appearance, but without the expression and vivacity which was the great charm of his sister. Gervase thought there was a look of unfriendliness in his eyes, and resented with some inward heat, the supercilious air with which he treated him. Macpherson had stood for some time preserving an awkward silence, until Dorothy withdrew him to the window, and by slow degrees broke down his silence, till he suddenly found himself talking with great ease and friendliness. It was many years since he had looked so nearly in the face of youth and beauty and listened to the tones of a girlish voice, and who can tell what secret springs of memory had suddenly been unlocked? Certain it is that when Gervase and he made their way to the walls half an hour afterwards, there was an undertone in his voice and a softened look in his eyes that Orme had never heard or seen before. “There are hard times,” he said, “before yon sweet lass, harder than she dreams of, but you and I must help to make them easier if we can. That rambling old woman and that gay spark of a brother will be a poor help to her in the day of her trial. I like not yon lad; his eyes shift too much, and they are ever counting the buttons on your coat while you are trying to find what is the thought in his mind. I´m thinking he would be glad to be out of this, could he carry the old woman´s fortune with him. But the lass herself hath a great heart, and if God sees good will make a fit mother to a noble race of bairns.”