“They’ve but a box apiece,” said Bell, “and that’s wonderful for our ladies. But they’ve minded this time that it’s not that easy to get trunks up our stairs. They’ve minded and they’ve no minded, Sir Ludovic: for Mrs. Bellin’am’s is that big that no mortal, let alone John, could get it up the stair. Her woman has had a’ the things to carry up in armfu’s. And oh, the heap o’ things a leddy wants when she gangs about! It’s just a bondage--gowns for the mornin’ and gowns for the evenin’, and gowns to put on when she’s dressing hersel’, and as mony fykes of laces and collars, and caps for her head--if they ca’ thae vanities caps.” Sir Ludovic laughed. “Poor Jean and poor Grace!” he said. “I hope they think mourning is becoming to them, Bell, for they will not stint me of a ribbon; I know my daughters too well for that. They will give me everything that is due to me, to the very last scrap of crape.” “They’ll do that, Sir Ludovic,” said Bell, divided between her desire to humor him and her wish to keep off painful subjects; “the ladies have never shown any want o’ respect. But Miss Grace was aye fond of bright colors. They’re no so young as I mind them, but they’re weel-fa’ured women still. The Leslies were aye a handsome family. They take it from yourself, Sir Ludovic, if I may make so bold.” “Not entirely from me,” said Sir Ludovic, with a smile. He did not dislike the allusion to his good looks, even though he was dying. “Their mother, whom you scarcely remember, was a handsome woman. We were not a bad-looking couple, people said. Ah! that’s a long time ago, Bell.” “Deed and it’s a long time, Sir Ludovic;” but Bell did not know what to say on this subject, for the interpolation of a third Lady Leslie no doubt made the matter somewhat more difficult. Probably this struck Sir Ludovic too, and he was in the condition when human nature is glad to seek a little help from another, or sympathy at least, no help being possible. This time he sighed--which was a thing much more befitting than laughter on a dying bed. “That’s a strange subject altogether,” he said; “any meeting after so long a time would be strange. If she had been at one end of the world and I at the other, there would be many changes even then. Would we understand each other?” Sir Ludovic had ceased to speak to Bell. He was musing alone, talking with himself. “And the difference must be greater than any mortal separation. Know each other? Of course we must know each other, she and I; but the question is, will we understand each other?” “Eh, Sir Ludovic,” said Bell, “it was God’s will that parted you, not your ain. There would be fault on one side or the other, if my lady had been in, say America, a’ this time, and you at hame; but she’s been in--heaven; that makes a’ the difference.”