Raphael gave utterance to a sardonic laugh, but made no reply. "Tell me," said the Panther. "Tell you what, child?" "Why you flirt with that poor little Anne Morfill till she wishes her husband was hanged." "My dear Claudia, I shall continue to think you are a Branscombe, even against the strong evidence to the contrary you have just given. But you are a strange girl, and I think you had better go to bed." "What do you mean?" "Simply that you are losing that piquant perspicacity which used to distinguish you. Here you are asking me why I flirt with your little bride? Have you ever asked a cat why it chases mice; or, if that simile is not poetic enough for your taste, can you tell me why a falcon kills smaller birds? If you desire to remonstrate, Claudia, by all means lecture your frivolous, flippant, little friend. Cry Ware hawk. Give her the very best advice, moral, religious, social. I hope it will do her good." "I can't think what you see in her," said the Panther, meditatingly. "Dear me, can't you? Why, a plump morsel of flesh and blood and lovingness-that's all; and that's enough to tempt any man to delicious morsiunculae. She's not a marvel of the jungle, like you-a terror to mild men-a creature to be tamed with a wrist of steel and a lash of wire. No, she's all love and melting sweetness, like a candied conserve of the East." "Well, I shall warn her," said Claudia “Do, and discharge your conscience. If you warn her against me, and make her afraid of me, you will increase my amusement, and I doubt whether you will decrease her danger. That is an affair entirely for your consideration. Meanwhile, my dear Claudia, permit me to say that I warn you." "Oh, you're not going to frighten me," said the Panther, frightened all the while. "You mistake me. I do not wish to warn you against advising your friend. I wish you in that to do exactly what you deem wisest. But I warn you against too intimate a flirtation with that blockhead Willesden." "What do you mean?" she exclaimed, indignantly. "Be calm-that's a good girl. I have not the least fear that you will do anything silly. The men of our family have always been sans peur, and the women, sans reproche-an excellent way of dividing the old motto. But Willesden can't marry, you know; and if you flirt too much with him there may be talk; and if any talk comes to my ears, you know I must shoot him, which would be devilish inconvenient for all parties. So be prudent; I don't see what there is to admire in such a large awkward mass of jewellery and Eau-de-Colognebut that's your affair." "Well, good night, Raphael," said Claudia; "I shall warn her." And she did. She got her into her bedroom at her next visit, and told her it was very wrong to flirt so much with Raphael. Anne became mutinous. "Flirt!" she said. "What do you mean by flirting? I merely talk to Mr. Branscombe, and not half as much as you do to Sir Arthur Willesden. You seem to forget that I am a married woman now.' "Mr. Morfill wouldn't like it," said the Panther, amused at her little friend's assumption of dignity. "Then Mr. Morfill should not leave me alone all day, without any amusement, and come home to dinner as stupid and cross as he can be. He is living on my money, and he ought to know better." The meekest little women in the world get a spirit in them when conscious of possessing money. "I mean to do just as I like, Claudia," she continued. "Mr. Branscombe is very pleasant to talk to, and he won't eat me, I suppose, though he is your brother; and I really think you had better attend to your own affairs." Claudia was both amused and amazed at her friend's rebellious spirit. Being a wife, the young lady considered herself in a rank above all unmarried women; she thought it impertinent of Claudia to venture to lecture her. Marriage had conferred a funny kind of dignity upon her; so the Panther's lecture had no effect, save perhaps to increase Anne's interest in her intercourse with Raphael, by reason of its appearing perilous. As to Raphael, when Claudia left him on the evening of her lecture, he fell to soliloquy. "I rather like the little girl," he said to himself. "She's a dainty pet. Emilia is a fine woman, no doubt; and Fiordilisa is a girl out of Shakespeare, as poetic as she is beautiful; and, by Jove! I wish I was back with her in Isola Rossa. But this little Morfill is such a lump of sweetness; she'd melt in a fellow's mouth like a very ripe greengage; and then that villain Morfill stole her-stole her from me, too, the unprincipled reprobate. 'Twould be a fine thing to revenge myself upon him by carrying off his wife.' So Claudia's remonstrance rather increased her brother's tendency to flirt with Mrs. Morfill. And, a few days later, he made a movement in advance. The scene was Claudia's drawingroom; the Panther was singing divinely for Sir Arthur's delectation; Raphael was talking in low tones to Anne. How delightfully your sister sings!" she had said. 66 Not half so delightfully as you talk. I could listen to your pretty prattle for ever." "You speak as if I was a child," she said. "So you are, and a very charming child, too. Why, you are not ashamed of being young, surely?" "If I am old enough to be married, I ought not to be treated like a child," she replied, with petty fretfulness. 66 I never said you were old enough to be married. But never mind: I'll treat you with the greatest respect in future-just as if you were fifty." "O, no! Don't do that." "I shall not see you to-morrow morning, I suppose. Claudia is going to be out all day. By the way, can one ever find Mr. Morfill at home?" "Very seldom; he generally goes to the Temple the moment breakfast is over." "And you are all alone? Well, I think I shall call to-morrow morning, and see if I can find him." "I don't think it will be any use," said Anne, "unless I tell him to wait at home for you." "Don't on any account interfere with his business for me." And she did not. By some curious caprice, Humphrey, lounged longer over his breakfast than usual, that next morning. He found something in the newspaper to interest him. Anne thought he was never going. But he went at last, after giving orders about the dinner two or three times over. He liked a good dinner after his work-not what Raphael would have called a good dinner, but something full flavoured and substantial. None of your delicate entrées and curious wines for Mr. Morfill: leg of mutton, sirloin, steak, Reid's stout, Carbonell's fruitiest portthese were his favourite eatables and drinkables. He was not refined. He liked onions. In the course of the morning Raphael appeared, regretted that Mr. Morfill was not at home, and sat down for a chat with Mrs. Morfill. She was looking very nice. There was a rosy flush, and childish freshness, about her; a deal of pink in her print dress, of coral and cream in her complexion, of loving innocence in her soft glance. Raphael thought her the prettiest specimen of babyish beauty he had ever seen. "I should like to put you under a glass case, Mrs. Morfill," he said, and keep you in my own room to look at." 66 "Make me a prisoner, as Humphrey does. I'm sure I wish he was anything but a lawyer; he slaves at it night and day, and I get no pleasure at all." "What would you like? You ought to be playing Les Graces with a dozen other little girls upon a green lawn under shady trees." "That's the way with you all," she said, with a provoking pout. "You talk to me as if I was a baby. Humphrey always does. And Claudia used to, at Kingsleat; but I'm better off than she is; I am married, at least, and I don't think she ever will be." "Don't you sometimes wish yourself unmarried?" said the Seraph, laughing. Indeed I do, every day of my life. What induced me to marry Humphrey I can't think. I should have been better off with Stephen." "You should have waited for me." "O, you're too old. And you think me a mere baby, I know." "I think you the most beautiful creature I ever saw in my life," he said seriously. "And as I have said before, your youth is only too valu able a possession. We all get old fast enough. But you will always be young, I believe." "You are laughing at me, Mr. Branscombe. You think I am not fit to be anybody's wife-only fit for a hoop or a skipping-rope." "I wish you were my wife," he said. "I wish I had seen you in time." "You vain being! So you really have conceit enough to fancy that I should have liked you better than Humphrey." She sprung up from her seat, and danced round the room, laughing and clapping her hands. "I am sure you would," he said. "More than that, I am sure you like me better now." "Go away! go away! You are getting naughty. I shall ring the bell and order 'Mr. Branscombe's carriage." "Don't you think you could be serious for a minute?" he said. "No, not half a minute-not a second.' She had taken a long scarf, and was vainly trying to use it as a skipping-rope. "Now, do sit down, just for a moment. I want to talk to you.' "But I don't in the least want to talk to you. I think I shall send out and buy a skipping-rope. I wonder what the dignified Mr. Morfill will say when he comes home to dinner if he finds me skipping in the Square." Raphael rose from his seat, and tried to catch her arm, she ran away. He followed her. In a moment the chase had become exciting. The room was large, with much heavy furniture in it, in the regular Mesopotamian style; so there were plenty of opportunities for dodging. But the young lady's foot caught in a rug; she almost fell; and before she could recover herself, Raphael had overtaken her. She was an infant in his grasp. He coolly took her hands in one of his, and returned to his chair, and made her sit upon his knee. "Now, young lady," he said, "you are my prisoner, and I can punish you for all the trouble you have given me." "O let me go, let me go, please. If Humphrey were to come! I'll scream, Mr. Branscombe, I will, positively." 'Well, what is it? I will answer if you'll promise to let me go." "Very well, I promise. Do you think," he asked, slowly and deliberately, "that if you had met me in time, you could have loved me?" Anne's bright young beauty was reddened this time by a more vivid blush. Her long eyelashes drooped to veil her eyes. She did not speak. Answer!" he said in a passionate whisper. She said not a word. "Answer!" again he said, pressing her closely to his breast-so closely that it was almost pain. For sole reply she hid her face on his shoulder, and burst into a passion of tears. "O, my darling," he exclaimed. "My poor little pet! My sweet love!" And all the while he rained kisses on her brow, her eyelids, her lips. And all the while she clung to him, quivering with ecstacy. She did not want to escape, now. She lay in his arms like a bird in its nest. "Kiss me!" he exclaimed, in the imperious tones of passion. Kiss me! Speak to me! Call me by my name!" She kissed him with clinging kisses, honey-sweet, fragrant as the jasmine's breath. And she looked at him with bright, loving, fearless eyes, from which all tears had passed. And she said, in a low voice like the coo of the doves that haunted her father's Idlechester garden- "I love you, Raphael." SOCIAL LIFE IN MORAY, A CENTURY AND A HALF AGO. BLESSED be the hands that preserve to aftertimes all sorts of interesting memoranda, letters, trifles, documents of the passing day, whether they illustrate the course of history, or social usages, or the business or the sports of country or district! In fifty years' time such notes and papers become very interesting, a hundred years later, most valuable to the historian or archæologist, and after the lapse of some centuries they become part and parcel of national treasures not to be parted with for any consideration. In the archives of our old families lie neglected many curious pieces of information, which, if carefully copied and sent to magazines, or local newspapers, would greatly interest their readers, and contribute to the preservation of valuable material for history. Such good office has been done by E. Dunbar Dunbar, Esq., late Captain in 21st Fusiliers, for a north-eastern district of Scotland, under the circumstances thus described in the short preface to his valuable work:-* "When arranging the family papers at Duffus House, Gordonstown, and Lesmurdie Cottage, the residences respectively of my brother, Sir Archibald Dunbar, my cousin, Sir Alexander Gordon Cumming, and my kinsman, Captain James Stewart, I occasionally found documents which appeared to me to throw considerable light on old social life, or to be otherwise interesting, and which I therefore sent to the local press." THE WHEREABOUTS OF MORAY. The province of Moray, to which the extracts chiefly refer, anciently included the counties of Murray or Elgin, and Nairn, and parts of Banff and Inverness. Looking on the map of Scotland the district is seen, traversed in a Northern direction by the Findhorn, West, and the Spey, East, these rivers towards the South being separated by the Monagh Lea (Gray Wood or Gray Bog) mountains. The soil generally is open and gravelly, with some deep loams and clays. The coast running east and west, and the district thus facing the open Northern Sea, a casual map-inspector would be inclined to compassionate the inhabitants during the cold season; but they are not at all to be pitied. "The climate is mild and dry, and the county has been called the Devonshire of Scotland, the mountains of Aberdeenshire and Banffshire protecting it from the cold moist winds of the German Ocean."+ West of the mouth of the Findhorn lie the sand dunes of Culbin (Fair Wood), occupying three square miles of extent, and some of them rising to the height of 118 feet. The chief products of this region are oats, wheat, and turnips; it exports grain, cattle, salmon, and timber. The inhabitants do not trouble themselves with manufactures of any extent except those of wool and mait liquors. EDUCATION. The contents are subjected to a certain classification, the first subject being by right-EDUCATION. We are informed that King's College, Aberdeen, was the favoured Alma Mater of the youth of the province of Moray, the students being designated by the barbarous names of Bajans, Semies, Tertians, and Magistrands in succession, during their four years' stay in college. Dr. Reid, whose metaphysical works are still in favour, was elected in 1752 professor of moral philosophy in King's College, Aberdeen. He introduced some useful reforms, which, as we learn from the text, were afterwards neglected. The following extract is taken from a letter of his to Archibald Dunbar, Esq., of Newton, at Duffus: "Your concern that the behaviour of your sons be narrowly looked after is most natural. I can assure you that for some years past we have been using our best skill and application for that purpose. While the students were scattered over the town in private quarters, and might dis Social Life in Former Days, Chiefly in the Province of Moray. Illustrated by Letters and Family Papers. By E. Dunbar Dunbar, (late) Captain 21st Fusiliers. First and Second Series. Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas. † Chambers's Cyclopædia-Elginshire. I hope you will not take it amiss if I decline providing you in a Presbyterian Dominie or a Libertin Whig. I wish you and your family too well to do you such an ill offer.' " The same gentleman, Archibald Dunbar, was evidently a considerate man. After entertaining a French master at his house, and allowing him pose of themselves as they pleased but at school hours, we found it impossible to keep them from low or bad company if they were so disposed. But they are on a very different footing since they lived within the college. We need but look out at our windows to see when they rise and go to bed. They are seen nine or ten times throughout the day statedly by one or other of the masters. They are shut up within walls by nine at night. We a guinea a quarter for each of his five charge those that are trusty and diligent pupils, he declares that "any person with the oversight of such as we suspect of tolerable taste or skill in the to be otherwise, and I verily believe there are few boys so narrowly lookt after, or French language will feel that there so little exposed to temptations to vice at never will be such another man in home as with us at present." his way in our country." The expenses of college life were 50 merks* per quarter at the first table, 40 shillings at second. A student paid 27 shillings for the season, his furniture being bedstead, tables, chimney grate, and fender, all other luxuries to be provided for by himself. The master's fee was two guineas; that of the professors of Greek and philosophy, five shillings. Not very oppressive all this. Å letter from Dr. Falconar, Bishop of Moray, to Archibald Dunbar of Duffus, and dated Edinr, April 23rd, 1754, is characteristic. He scruples to recommend a Presbyterian tutor, and is no more loyal to George II. than is absolutely necessary. "There is a young man, Mr. Alexr. Diack, just now governor to the master of Elphinstone's sons, who is well and fully recommended to me. And as Mr. Elphinstone's sons have finished their home education, Mr. Diack leaves the family at Whitsunday next. He is a good scholar, of modest behaviour, and of virtuous character. He understands the learned languages, the French, mathematics, and writes a fine hand; so that so far I think he will fit your purpose. I believe he has not, nor, as I am informed, will he take the oaths, but I think you need not mind that qualification, as Mr. Elphinstone, who is an officer in the army, made no scruple as to that point, nor indeed does any gentleman in this country mind it at all, as they make those gentlemen who perform the part of pedagogues, pass under the name of clerk, or factor, or what they please. He has twelve guineas a year where he now serves, and if he answers the good character I have heard of him, it will be money well laid out. I cannot in conscience recommend any of our new-fashioned blades. So The good opinion which dancing masters, in later times appear to have entertained of themselves is either in stinctive, or else was handed down to them from Mr. William Badhame, whose receipt to one of Lord Duffus's sons runs thus: "I William Badhame, danceing master in Edinburgh, be the tenor hereof, grant Sutherland, Advocat, the sum of ffiftie punds, Scots money, in full contentation and satisfaction for all due me for danceing on accompt of Mistris Elizabeth Sutherland, his sister, preceeding the date of thir presents. And by thir presents it is provided that in case the said Mistris Elizabeth shall at any time happen to come me to have received from Master James where I, the said William Badhame shall "In witness whereof (wryten by George Keith writer in Edinburgh), I have subscribed thir presents in Edinburgh, the eighteen tday of Septer, Javij (1700) and ffour years, before witnesss, James Donaldson, merchant in Edinburgh and the said George Keith wryter hereof. "WM. BADHAM." "J. Donaldson, witnes. If the great Mons. Mocquard or the greater Herr Bismark, wished to The English mark was 13s. 4d., and as the Scotch shilling was only worth an English penny, the Aberdeen merk was consequently only 1s. 1d. |