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Week after week passed

Spring was slowly developing into sulas, the fine estate in Perthshire which old Sir Richard Ranscolas Castle, a grand old turreted pile, was perched on the edge of a wooded glen through which flowed a picturesque burn well known to tourists in Scotland Once Blairglas Burn had been a es, worn its way deep through the grey granite down to the broad Tay and onward to the sea On the estate was solas Moor, and trout in Blairglas Loch Here Lady Ranscomb entertained her wealthy Society friends, and certainly she did so lavishly and well Twice each year she went up for the fishing and for the shooting Old Sir Richard, notwithstanding his gout, had been fond of sport, and for that reason he had given a fabulous price for the place, which had belonged to a certain Duke who, like others, had become impoverished by excessive taxation and the death duties

Built in the fifteenth century as a fortress, it was, for a tie with Mary of Guise It was to Blairglas that, after his defeat on Solway Moss, he retired, subsequently dying of a broken heart Twenty years later Darnley, the elegant husband of Mary Stuart, had lived there, and on the level bowling green he used to indulge in his favourite sport

The gri stone corridors, cyclopean ivy-clad walls, narros, and great panelled chao So extensive was it that only one wing--that which looked far down the glen to the blue distant mountains--had been modernised; yet that, in itself, was sufficiently spacious for the entertain, early in June, Dorise, in a rough tweed suit and a pearl-grey suede ta a mackintosh across her shoulder, and accompanied by a tall, dark-haired, clean-shaven man of thirty-tith rather thick lips and bushy eyebroalked down through the woods to the river Theclothes, sauntered at her side, sarette; while behind therizzled, fair-bearded head keeper, carrying the salaff, creel, and luncheon basket

"The spate is excellent for us," exclaiht to kill a salirl; "but somehow I never have any luck in these days"

"No, you really don't! But Marjorie killed a twelve-pounder last week, your mother tells me"