“I wish you a pleasant journey, Miss Mary,” cried Dr. Redgill.  “The game season is coming on, and—­” But the carriage drove off; and the rest of the sentence was dispersed by the wind; and all that could be collected was, “grouse always acceptable—­friends at a distance—­roebuck stuffed with heather carries well at all times,” etc. etc.

To one less practised in her ways, and less gifted with patience, the eternal babbling of Aunt Grizzy as a travelling companion would have occasioned considerable ennui, if not spleen.  There are perhaps few greater trials of temper than that of travelling with a person who thinks it necessary to be actively pleasant, without a moment’s intermission, from the rising till the setting sun.  Grizzy was upon this fatal plan, the rock of thousands!  Silence she thought synonymous with low spirits; and she talked, and wondered, and exclaimed incessantly, and assured Mary she need not be uneasy, she was certain Colonel Lennox would follow very soon; she had not the least doubt of that.  She would not be surprised if he Was to be at Lochmarlie almost as soon as themselves; at any rate very soon after them.

But even these little torments were forgot by Mary when she found herself again in her native land.  The hills, the air, the waters, the people, even the peat-stacks, had a charm that touched her heart, and brought tears into her eyes as they pictured home.  But her feelings arose to rapture when Lochmarlie burst upon her view in all the grandeur, beauty, and repose of a setting sun, shedding its farewell rays of gold and purple, and tints of such matchless hue, as no pencil ere can imitate—­no poet’s pen describe.  Rocks, woods, hills, and waters, all shone with a radiance that seemed of more than earthly beauty.  “Oh, there are moments in life, keen, blissful, never to be forgotten!” and such was the moment to Mary when the carriage stopped, and she again heard the melody of that voice familiar from infancy—­and looked on the face known with her being—­and was pressed to that heart where glowed a parent’s love!

When Mary recovered from the first almost agonising transports of joy, she marked with delight the increased animation and cheerfulness visible in Mrs. Douglas.  All the livelier feelings of her warm heart had indeed been excited and brought into action by the spirit and playfulness of her little boy, and the increased happiness of her husband; while all her uneasiness respecting her former lover was now at an end.  She had heard from himself that he had married, and was happy.  Without being guilty of inconstancy, such are the effects of time upon mutable human nature!

Colonel Lennox lost no time in arriving to claim his promised bride; and Mary’s happiness was complete when she found her own choice so warmly approved of by the friends she loved.

The three aunts and their unmarried nieces, now the sole inhabitants of Glenfern Castle, were not quite decided in their opinions at first.  Miss Jacky looked with a suspicious eye upon the mortal enemy of the Maclaughlan race; but, upon better acquaintance, his gaiety and good-humour contrived to charm asleep even her good sense and prejudices, and she pronounced him to be a pleasant, well-informed young man, who gave himself no airs, although he certainly had rather a high look.