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CHAPTER XII. 



ON THE MOORS, 



By a Sportsman's Wife. 



We went North about the beginning of August, 

 and the " grouse fever " set in on the tenth. 

 Once in the previous night I had heard my hus- 

 band shout excitedly in his sleep " Mark over ! " 

 but when I awoke him he only asked, " What's 

 the weather ? " and recommenced to snore. In 

 the morning he was irritable, and constantly 

 looked out of doors. Each time he returned 

 he told us that the mist caps still stuck to 

 the hills, that Ben Bald was hidden in clouds. 

 Like the Wandering Jew, he ever and cease- 

 lessly paced from room to room of that High- 

 land Shooting-box, and asked querulously of 

 every one who came near him, " Will Ronald 

 never come ? " None knew whether " Ronald" 

 was dog or man ; but we soon found out. 



L 



