In the year 1715, the gentry of Northumberland had risen almost as one man to support the cause of James Stewart, or the old Pretender, as the Loyalists called him. But a new generation had arisen since then. People who remembered "the fifteen" had also a vivid recollection of the hangings and confiscations which followed it, and had no mind to run the same risks again. Others were content to see things remain as they were. The race of non-juring clergymen, who had done a great deal to keep alive the flame of devotion to the Stewart family, was dying out, and only here or there was one to be found. It was observed afterward, in the march to Derby, that the proclamation of King James in the towns through which the army passed excited no more enthusiasm or curiosity than would have been produced by the advertisement of a quack doctor. The ill success of his political banquet did not tend to put Sir Julius in any better humor than he was before. Neither did the fact that on the following Sunday, Mr. Lethbridge preached a really fine and eloquent sermon on the duty of resistance to rebellion and faithfulness to the existing government. His usually slow, and I must say tedious, delivery waxed nervous and decided, as he warned his hearers against being led into treasonable practises by false representations. Sir Julius, who had come to church, I suppose in compliment to his wife, looked furious. Lady Leighton yawned, laughed and chatted all but aloud with the gentlemen who sat by her. Lord Bulmer whispered something to Amabel, but was met by a look which silenced even him. I could not forbear peeping at Aunt Deborah. She seemed as if she did not know whether to be angry with the preacher for his doctrine or pleased at his vexing her sister-in-law. Indeed, I could not help thinking that Mrs. Deborah's loyalty toward James Stewart had cooled considerably, since she had learned that Lady Leighton espoused his cause so warmly. The next morning, I was sitting with Amabel in our own bedroom, when Lady Leighton's woman tapped at the door, with a summons. Miss Leighton, was to attend her father and mother in the library. "The time of trial is at hand!" said Amabel, turning to me, after she had sent a message, that she would come at once. "Pray for me, Lucy!" "Dear Amabel, you won't give way!" said I. "Indeed, I would not urge you, but I know this Lord Bulmer is a wicked man, and will make you miserable." "If he were the best man in the world, it would make no difference to me!" replied Amabel. "My love, such as I had, is given away, and I cannot call it back." "But what will you say!" I asked, detaining her, as she bent to kiss me. "I shall see, when the time comes. There is no use in planning before hand. Let me go, dear. I must not keep them waiting, and since it must come, the sooner it is over, the better."