Ardtaraig

tenderly regarded. Soon after this her husband got mixed up in some of the political disturbances so rife in that unsettled country; letters ceased, and we lost sight of them both. I know not if they are living or dead. One cannot help fearing that something sad had happened, otherwise tidings of some sort would surely have reached our family. Many years have passed since they disappeared.
After Uncle Willie’s return to this country he married for the second time, his cousin, Miss John Campbell, only daughter of grandmamma’s first cousin, Major John Campbell, Royal Marines; who for some time resided at Stuart Hall, Bute, and again at Cardross, on the Clyde. After Uncle Willie’s marriage to this Scottish cousin, the couple took up their abode at Dunloskin, near Dunoon, where, after some years, Uncle Willie breathed his last. His widow, Aunt William, as we children called her, or “Johnnie,” as she was named by the relatives in general, I remember very well. She is inseparably associated with “the Rothesay days,” when she and Miss Sally Campbell (another cousin, though always known as “Aunt Sally,”) lived together in a neat little house, not far from grandmamma’s. These ladies, noteworthy in some degree, were both relatives on the maternal side. My recollection of Aunt William is somewhat tinged with the ludicrous. She was what Lord Byron hated, “a dumpy woman,” and in addition to her masculine name of John, she was one of the most hirsute of the feminine sex I ever beheld. Her hair, even then, when she was quite elderly, was beautiful, rich, brown, and luxuriant. Alas! so were her beard and moustache! The rest of her face, even her hands and arms, were covered with a soft down, the like of which I never saw before or since. This, with her squat little figure and abrupt manner, made up a whole which could not be called attractive. She had, however, some qualities which were certainly redeeming. She was extremely neat in her person and dress; wore her skirts rather short, to show her dainty, well-shod little feet, and was altogether in her appearance “trig,” the best Scottish word for it. She was, moreover, modest and retiring in manner, and might often be seen trotting about, carrying baskets full of flowers, or pots of jam, or such-like dainties, for sick or aged friends – a kindly, well-meaning little lady on the whole, and more than content, for the most part, to live in the shade.
Miss Sally Campbell, or I should say “Aunt Sally,” was a much more pronounced and fascinating personality, though, also, bordering on the eccentric. She had been a “belle” in her youth, and had seen the very great world. Full cousin of grandmamma, being the daughter of her Uncle James, she was close of kin, and always preserved the rôle of a near relation. Miss Sally’s uncle on her mother’s side, Dr Hare, was appointed private physician to Lord Hastings, when he went out as Governor-General of India, in the year 1813. Miss Sally, under Mrs Hare’s wing, went along with the suite, and had entry into all the highest functions, together with all the gaieties, such as balls and parties, at Government House. She was a fine musician, and her play¬ing attracted much attention. I remember her so well, in her own little drawing-room, executing on the piano the most wonderful shakes and flourishes, in order to perform which with due dexterity, she occasionally dipped her fingers into a saucerful of flour, placed beside her for the purpose. The performance was unique and brilliant in its way, but most amazing to the eyes an ears of the young folks present. She especially excelled in rendering with a pathos all her own, sweet Scottish melodies, such as, “The Flowers o’ the Forest,” “The Yellow-¬haired Laddie,” “A Wee Bird Cam,” “Ye Banks and Braes o’ Bonny Doon,” etc. But these were not all her repertoire, she took flights into classic regions as well. Her piano she called her “good man,” and it was wrapped in a blanket every winter’s night. She, and all that appertained to her, were in the style of her day, antiquated in my youth, utterly unknown now. She came home from India, a land she hated, but where she was looked upon as a pretty girl, and, although she returned without a husband, which few girls did in those days, she came back with rejoicing in her heart. Her uncle and aunt were good to her, and did not suffer her to leave them empty-handed. She was well dowered with lovely china, Indian shawls, filigree gold ornaments, and some very fine diamonds. On her return she lived with her bachelor brother, Major Campbell, Major Roy, or “John Roy,” as his relatives familiarly