Sae, after a silence, she said, Elspeth Cheyne (for she always gave me my maiden name), are not ye the daughter of that Reginald Cheyne who died to save his master, Lord Glenallan, on the field of Sheriffmuir ?' And I answered her as proudly as hersell nearly--As sure as you are the daughter of that Earl of Glenallan whom my father saved that day by his own death.'" Here she made a deep pause.
"And what followed ?--what followed ?--For Heaven's sake, good woman--But why should I use that word ?--Yet, good or bad, I command you to tell me." "And little I should value earthly command," answered Elspeth, "were there not a voice that has spoken to me sleeping and waking, that drives me forward to tell this sad tale.

Aweel, my Lord--the Countess said to me, My son loves Eveline Neville--they are agreed--they are plighted: should they have a son, my right over Glenallan merges--I sink from that moment from a Countess into a miserable stipendiary dowager, I who brought lands and vassals, and high blood and ancient fame, to my husband, I must cease to be mistress when my son has an heir-male.

But I care not for that--had he married any but one of the hated Nevilles, I had been patient.

But for them--that they and their descendants should enjoy the right and honours of my ancestors, goes through my heart like a two-edged dirk.

And this girl--I detest her!'-- And I answered, for my heart kindled at her words, that her hate was equalled by mine." "Wretch!" exclaimed the Earl, in spite of his determination to preserve silence--"wretched woman! what cause of hate could have arisen from a being so innocent and gentle ?" "I hated what my mistress hated, as was the use with the liege vassals of the house of Glenallan; for though, my Lord, I married under my degree, yet an ancestor of yours never went to the field of battle, but an ancestor of the frail, demented, auld, useless wretch wha now speaks with you, carried his shield before him.