"Even so, sweet sister, learning dearer lore and lovelier tales than
even Provence could instil; 'tis not the land, it is the _heart_ where
poesie dwells," rejoined Nigel Bruce, gayly, advancing from the side of
Agnes, where he had been lingering the greater part of the dialogue
between his sister and the countess, and now joined them. "Aye, Mary,"
he continued, tenderly, "my own land is dearer than the land of song."

"And dear art thou to Scotland, Nigel; but I knew not thy fond dreams
and wild visions could find resting amid the desert crags and barren
plains of Buchan."

"Yet have we not been idle. Dearest Agnes, wilt thou not speak for me?
the viol hath not been mute, nor the fond harp unstrung; and deeper,
dearer lessons have thy lips instilled, than could have flowed from
fairest lips and sweetest songs of Provence. Nay, blush not, dearest.
Mary, thou must love this gentle girl," he added, as he led her forward,
and laid the hand of Agnes in his sister's.

"Is it so? then may we indeed be united, though not as I in my girlhood
dreamed, my Isabella," said Lady Campbell, kindly parting the clustering
curls, and looking fondly on the maiden's blushing face. She was about
to speak again, when steps were heard along the corridor, and
unannounced, unattended, save by the single page who drew aside the
hangings, King Robert entered. He had doffed the armor in which we saw
him first, for a plain yet rich suit of dark green velvet, cut and
slashed with cloth of gold, and a long mantle of the richest crimson,
secured at his throat by a massive golden clasp, from which gleamed the
glistening rays of a large emerald; a brooch of precious stones,
surrounded by diamonds, clasped the white ostrich feather in his cup,
and the shade of the drooping plume, heightened perhaps by the advance