"That is a picture of your son, Colonel Lennox, is it not?" asked Lady
Emily, "I mean the one that hangs below the lady in the satin gown with
the bird on her hand."
Mrs. Lennox answered in the affirmative; then added, with a sigh, "And
when I _could_ look on that face, I forgot all I had lost; but I was too
fond, too proud a mother. Look at it, my dear," taking Mary's hand, and
leading her to the well-known spot, while her features brightened with
an expression which showed maternal vanity was not yet extinct in the
mourner's heart. "He was only eighteen," continued she, "when that was
done; and many a hot sun has burned on that fair brow; and many a
fearful sight has met these sweet eyes since then; and sadly that face
may be changed; but I shall never see it more!"
"Indeed," said Lady Emily, affecting to be gay, while a tear stood in
her eye, "it is a very dangerous face to look on; and I should be afraid
to trust myself with it, were not my heart already pledged. As for my
cousin there, there is no fear of her falling a sacrifice to hazel eyes
and chestnut hair, her imagination is all on the side of sandy locks and
frosty gray eyes; and I should doubt if Cupid himself would have any
chance with her, unless he appeared in tartan plaid and Highland
bonnet."
"Then my Charles would have some," said Mrs. Lennox, with a faint smile;
"for he has lately been promoted to the command of a Highland regiment.
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