A Blot on the Scutcheon

ner be a nun than live

little foot, scolded her dog, and

easing his sister. She refused to come to London under the chaperonage of my Lady Helmington, an

casion treated Mistress Gabrielle de Varenac Conyers as if she were Betty

tment, and vowed, many times over, that she would never again put in

he, such as a man in the Prince of Wales's set need be. Ah! the

he Prince himself had driven Richmond, the black boxer, down to Moulsey, and held his coat for him when he beat Dutch Sam, or how th

teen, tilted a very pretty nose, and declared His

icturing the absent Morry at the dicing-board, or under th

Florizel's" set was more notorious for

abrielle lived virtually alone

o had betrayed him. Cursing at a Government, too, which had given him the name of rebel, and a King who was l

and, though she shed a few filial tears for

ferent they two might have

s had money to spend at the gaming-table, or a bottle of good wine to get drunk on, not omitting other de

nd virtue of her own, and shrank from the blustering offers of an introd

maiden wandered aimlessly down a garden path and through a wicket-gate. What was the use of being pretty and sweet as a M

fun and coquetry rose to her lips whe

ght at such forward desires,

meo to whom she might play Juliet. The picture wa

st and gayest amongst larches and slender ash, all dressed in the freshest of green robes, and, in the centre, herself,-a Quee

uctive Eve, all waiti

and smiled a welcome which set the dimples in her che

y, and she knew the name of her Adam though she had no

ies, laughing as she watched the colour

l enough, but he rais

e cried, swinging her hat by its blue ribbon,

ware that he di

ed Michael Berrington, shame-fac

him, clappin

ever do, though, certes, it is many a long year sinc

he last words, only afterwa

er, rendering her more

ow that this was the little Brown Fairy of

e Conyers, daughter to the ma

raining in worldly wisdom. Gabrielle had heard the story of S

laintively, "and very dull. Come

from hazel eyes, the you

fort. "Perhaps, madam, you do

mple completed

hould have no place in the present, sir, so forget, pray, your name, if

ght from town, but that same woman's instinct of hers told her that this stalwart yo

od which characterized him, and knelt beside her on the mossy bank to gathe

r, and, before him, the slim, girlish figure in its simple gown of white, with a bunch of blue ribbons loosely knott

ton's blood quickened in his v

rthern skies, yet breaks through the trammels of

dawns, with no warning murmurs, no slowly stirring

laughing eyes. Yet he did not call this strange new sweetness, love, but was content to feel it thrilling and animating his whole being. So lonel

d suddenly aside as a girl's r

in! You should be minding your devoir

and dreams put aside for

Would I were indeed your knight, little mistre

m over the great posy

ore faithful than you have been these ten years. Alas! I remember now the tears I

wat

d w

houg

you had vowed to

you knew my nam

stood

green leaves and w

d not have had you spe

father died f

tor's son

hers' sins. As long as you ar

tly raised her litt

ly she withdrew it. So, af

d simply; but her eyes, under vei

if you wil

prefer it. I nee

fair a lady mu

t o

ut you have

outly-when he's sober. But the Prince of Wales has admitt

ances, follies, and empty-headed good-nature were

l Berringto

father had no kin and my mother's are in Brittany. Som

re long, methinks, these friends of you

for the Revolution, Morry says it is a good th

ink it, mistress. It is a party question, and they air their opinions to annoy Burke and Pitt.

enough to change

And she pointed to the flat, three-corne

e muslin apron to hold a

een most di

e is Mi

ld be a s

, I fear, though I claim

ang

s, is enough for me. Do

e is Ga

riel

it very slowly, dwelling

e her curls, for she ha

he said primly, "or my brother and h

ou are

oor little child! How sorel

erself up with

ied. "I sup with her when Morry

his strong hands, little guessing

ay God I may ever be your true and fait

his eyes, for here was no longer the merry, careless youth who tossed y

ever since Lady Helmington promised

ly in return. "I-I do not think I sha

's eyes

pray you tell me their names. They shall learn a

ed as she ran home, through the wicket and over the lawns, leaving a trail of primrose blooms be