"Fenton?--he'll be ane o' the auld Fentons owre the water; as gallant and stalwart a race as ever Fifeshire saw." "I hope so," sighed Lilian; "but, oh Elsie! there is some sad mystery about this poor young man. When a very little child, he was found nestled in his dead mother's bosom in the kirk-yard of the Greyfriars, in that terrible time you will remember?" "My bonnie bairn, it was indeed a fearfu' time; but, by his winsome face, I warrant him come o' gentle kin." "Dost think so, dear nursie?" "Not Claver'se himsel has an eye that glints wi' mair pride, or a lip that curls mair haughtily. True gentle blood can aye be kent by the curl o' the lip. I warrant his blude's as gude as ony in braid Scotland." "Oh; 'tis for that I pity and love him so much," said Lilian artlessly. As she spoke, Walter, who was conversing with Lady Grisel, unexpectedly looked full towards her; he had removed his steel cap, and the long black locks beneath it flowed in cavalier profusion over his scarlet doublet. He never looked so prepossessing; and, fearing that he had overheard her, the cheek of the timid girl grew scarlet and then deadly pale; and to hide her confusion, she bent her face towards the old nurse, requesting her to bind up her hair. "In ringlets and heart-breakers such as never Maister Pouncet fashioned, shall I twine thy bonnie gowden hair to-morrow, hinny," said the old woman, kissing with fond respect the white forehead of Lilian; for those were days when the highest and the lowest classes in Scotland were bound together by such endearing ties as never will exist again. "And nae mair shall your dainty arms and jimpy waist be bound wi' aught but Naples silk and three-pile taffeta." "Ah! nurse Elsie, if my heart is always as happy and light as Meinie's, it will matter little what I wear."