never think any more about Colonel Lennox; and, take my word for it, you’ll get plenty of husbands yet.  Now, since there’s a peace, there will be plenty of fine young officers coming home.  There’s young Balquhadan, a captain, I know, in some regiment; and there’s Dhalahulish, and Lochgrunason, and—­” But Miss Grizzy’s ideas here shot out into so many ramifications upon so many different branches of the county tree, that it would be in vain for any but a true Celt to attempt to follow her.

Mary again tried to lead her back to the subject of the Lennoxes, in hopes of being able to extract some spark of knowledge from the dark chaos of her brain.

“Oh, I’m sure, Mary, if you want to hear about that, I can tell you plenty about the Lennoxes; or at any rate about the Maclaughlans, which is the same thing.  But I must first find my huswife.”

To save Miss Grizzy’s reminiscence, a few words will suffice to clear up the mystery.  A family feud of remote origin had long subsisted between the families of Lennox and Maclaughlan, which had been carefully transmitted from father to son, till the hereditary brand had been deposited in the breast of Sir Sampson.  By the death of many intervening heirs General Lennox, then a youth, was next in succession to the Maclaughlan estate; but the power of alienating it was vested in Sir Sampson, as the last remaining heir of the entail.  By the mistaken zeal of their friends both were, at an early period, placed in the same regiment, in the hope that constant as association together would quickly destroy their mutual prejudices, and produce a reconciliation.  But the inequalities were too great ever to assimilate.  Sir Sampson possessed a large fortune, a deformed person, and a weak, vain, irritable mind.  General (then Ensign) Lennox had no other patrimony than his sword—­a handsome person, high spirit, and dauntless courage.  With these tempers, it may easily be conceived that a thousand trifling events occurred to keep alive the hereditary animosity.  Sir Sampson’s mind expected from his poor kinsman a degree of deference and respect which the other, so far from rendering, rather sought opportunities of showing his contempt for, and of thwarting and ridiculing him upon every occasion, till Sir Sampson was obliged to quit the regiment.  From that time it was understood that all bearing the name of Lennox were for ever excluded from the succession to the Maclaughlan estates; and it was deemed a sort of petty treason even to name the name of a Lennox in presence of this dignified chieftain.

Many years had worn away, and Sir Sampson had passed through the various modifications of human nature, from the “mewling infant” to “mere oblivion,” without having become either wiser or better.  His mind remained the same—­irascible and vindictive to the last.  Lady Maclaughlan had too much sense to attempt to reason or argue him out of his prejudices, but she contrived to prevent him from ever executing a new entail.  She had