that any mystery had ever been made about the matter, took every
opportunity of telling every body who inquired the whole facts of the
case.

These were few enough and simple enough, though very sad. The Earl--
the last Earl of Cairnforth--was a hopeless cripple for life. All
the consultations of all the doctors had resulted in that conclusion.
It was very unlikely he would ever be better than he was now physically,
but mentally he was certainly "a' richt"--or "a' there," as the
country-folk express it. There was, as Mr. Cardross carefully explained
to every body, not the slightest ground for supposing him deficient in
intellect; on the contrary, his intellect seemed almost painfully acute.
The quickness with which he learned his lessons surpassed that of any
boy of his age the minister had ever known; and he noticed every thing
around him so closely, and made such intelligent remarks, that to talk
with him was like talking with a grown man. Before the first week was
over Mr. Cardross began actually to enjoy the child's company, and to
look forward to lesson hours as the pleasantest hours of his day; for,
since the Castle was close, the minister's lot had been the almost
inevitable lot of a country clergyman, whose parish contains many
excellent people, who look up to him with the utmost reverence, and for
whom he entertains the sincere respect that worth must always feel
toward worth, but with whom he had very few intellectual sympathies. In
truth, since Mrs. Cardross died the minister had shut himself up almost
entirely, and had scarcely had a single interest out of his own study
until the earl came home to Cairnforth.

Now, after lessons, he would occasionally be persuaded to quit that
beloved study, and take a walk along the loch side, or across the moor,
to show his pupil the country of which he, poor little fellow! was owner