"'Tis a pity he is a prelatist, though," said Mrs. Alice; "and abune a' that he should take up with these Methodists—a wheen sectaries I doubt they are." "What is a prelatist?" I asked. "A prelatist? Oh, just ane that believes in bishops, and printed prayers, and written discourses, and surplices, and such like rags of Babylon," answered Mrs. Alice. "They're all prelatists the other side the border, except a few of the chosen seed scattered here and there." "A weel Alice, they are brought up that way; you cannot blame the poor lad for preaching what he was taught to believe, and may be even the rags of Babylon may be better than no clothes at all!" said the old lady with a smile. "At all events, this Mr. Cheriton is a brave man and a gentleman, and comes of a good stock, you say." "Oh yes, madam—aunt I mean. His friends live not very far from Highbeck, and his father is heir to a title in the South." "And are they Jacobites like the rest of the Northumbrian gentry?" "No, old Mr. Cheriton is loyal to the present government." "That is well. Titles and the like are but empty breath, compared to the root of the matter, but yet one cannot but value good family and a long descent. If Sir Julius had objected to the match at first, it would have behooved Amabel to pleasure her father; but I cannot think he had a right to withdraw his consent, once given, or to match his child against her will to a wicked man and one whom she detests. You are quite sure that this Mr. Cheriton is faithful to Amabel, and that these tales about him are not true?" "I have the best evidence!" said I. And I told her of Mrs. Thorpe's letter, which by the way I had found in Amabel's bosom when I undressed her. The old lady asked me several questions about Mrs. Thorpe, and set down her address in her pocketbook. "And my nephew, you say, has had no more sense than to cast in his fortunes with that unlucky lad at Edinbro'!" said she. "So I suppose, aunt!" "The senseless haverell. What good does he think that will do him or any one else?" "He believes that King James will be reigning in London before the next mid-summer." "Aye, that he will, when the sky turns pea-green!" ejaculated the old lady. "However, I do not believe Sir Julius would have gone to Edinburgh, but for his wife!" I added. "She is a violent Jacobite." "Aye, I daresay she would like well enough to go to Edinbro' herself. How does my niece Deborah like such a partisan to her cause?" "Not very well, aunt. I can't but fancy her zeal for the prince has cooled a good deal, since my lady came to the Hall." "She should remember that loyalty, like poverty, makes us acquainted with strange bed-fellows!" said the old lady smiling. "Well, bairn, you are safe for the present, and the future is in better hands than ours." [Illustration] CHAPTER XXV. THE DOCTOR FROM NEWCASTLE.