"Another item of news. Mrs. Macjean has presented the delighted Otterburn with a son and heir. By-the-way, I should not call him Otterburn, as, by the death of his father four months ago, he is now Lord Dunkeld. But old habits are hard to get rid of, and I always talk of them as Mrs. Macjean and Otterburn. They are very happy, as they deserve to be, for Dunkeld is a real good fellow, and Lady Dunkeld--well, she is all that is charming. "Do you remember Miss Minnie Pelch, poor Aunt Jelly's companion? She is now down at Errington with us, as she was so lonely in town that Alizon took pity on her, and she is installed as companion at the Hall. Her volume of verse came out in due splendour, and was entirely overlooked by the press, at which I am not sorry, as if the poems had been noticed--well, you know the poems of old. Minnie, however, thinks this silence is jealousy, and quite looks upon herself as a shining light of the Victorian age, so neither Alizon nor I undeceive her, for she is a good little woman, though somewhat of a bore with her infernal--I mean eternal--poetry. "I really don't think there is any more news to tell you, except that good old Mrs. Trubbles is dead--apoplexy--and her dear Harry is now on the look-out for another spouse with political influence--I wish it was 'poetical influence,' and we might manage to marry him to Miss Pelch. "Mr. Dolser and 'The Pepper Box' have both gone under, never to rise again I hope. Some dreadful libel on a high personage appeared, at which the H.P. took umbrage, and the editor is now expiating his offence in prison. I can't say I'm very sorry, as when he is released Mr. Dolser will no doubt leave other people's affairs alone. Such men as he are the curse of the present age, and should all be sunk in the Atlantic for at least half an hour--after that I think we'd have no more trouble with them. "And now, my dear cousin, I must close this long letter, but first, in confidence, let me hint to you that my wife is expecting an interesting event to take place shortly, which will once more render the nursery a necessity. Poor Alizon has borne up bravely since the death of Sammy, but I know she longs for a child of her own to fill the vacant place in her heart. I am no longer afraid of having a rival in my child, as my wife loves and trusts me now, and my lot is as perfectly happy a one as any mortal can hope for. "So now goodbye, my dear Eustace. I hope we will soon see you back again at the Hall, where there is always a place for you. My wife sends her kindest regards to you, and so do I, thus closing this letter, and remaining "Your affectionate Cousin, "GUY ERRINGTON." When Eustace finished reading the letter he let it fall on the ground, and laughed bitterly. "Kindest regards," he said sadly, "and I gave her love." The sun was sinking swiftly behind the dark hills, and Gartney, with his hand supporting his chin, sat watching it, thinking of the days that were no more.