The Laird had been disturbed in his morning slumbers by the tones of Mrs Balchristie's objurgation, sounds in themselves by no means uncommon, but very remarkable, in respect to the early hour at which they were now heard. He turned himself on the other side, however, in hopes the squall would blow by, when, in the course of Mrs Balchristie's second explosion of wrath, the name of Deans distinctly struck the tympanum of his ear. As he was, in some degree, aware of the small portion of benevolence with which his housekeeper regarded the family at Saint Leonard's, he instantly conceived that some message from thence was the cause of this untimely ire, and getting out of his bed, he slipt as speedily as possible into an old brocaded nightgown, and some other necessary garments, clapped on his head his father's gold-laced hat, (for though he was seldom seen without it, yet it is proper to contradict the popular report, that he slept in it, as Don Quixotte did in his helmet), and opening the window

of his bed-room, beheld, to his great astonishment, the well-known figure of Jeanie Deans herself retreating from his gate; while his housekeeper, with arms a-kimbo, fist clenched and extended, body erect, and head shaking with rage, sent after her a volley of Billingsgate oaths. His choler rose in proportion to the surprise, and, perhaps, to the disturbance of his repose. "Hark ye," he exclaimed from the window, "ye auld limb of Satan-wha the de'il gies you commission to guide an honest man's daughter that gate ?"

Mrs Balchristie was completely caught in the manner. She was aware, from the unusual warmth with which the Laird expressed himself, that he was quite serious in this matter, and she knew that, with all his indolence of nature, there were points on which he might be provoked, and that, being provoked, he had in him something dangerous, which her wisdom taught her to fear accordingly. She began, therefore,

to retract her false step as fast as she could. "She was but speaking for the house's credit, and she couldna think of disturbing his honour in the morning sae early, when the young woman might as weel wait or call again; and to be sure, she might make a mistake between the twa sisters, for ane o' them wasna sae creditable an acquaintance."

"Haud your peace, ye auld jade," said Dumbiedikes; "the warst quean e'er stude in their shoon may ca' you cousin, an' a' be true that I have heard.-Jeanie, my woman, gang into the parlour-but stay, that winna be redd up yet-wait there a minute till I come doun to let ye in-Dinna mind what Jenny says to yẹ.”

"Na, na,” said Jenny, with a laugh of affected heartiness, "never mind me, lassa' the warld kens my bark's waur thần my. bite-if ye had had an appointment wi' the Laird, ye might hae tauld me-I am nae un person-gang your ways in bye, hin

civil

ny," and she opened the door of the house with a master-key.

"But I had no appointment wi' the Laird," said Jeanie, drawing back; "I want just to speak twa words to him, and I wad rather do it standing here, Mrs Balchristie."

"In the open court-yard ?—Na, na, that wad never do, lass; we maunna guide ye that gate neither-And how's that douce honest man, your father?"

Jeanie was saved the pain of answering this hypocritical question by the appearance of the Laird himself.

Gang in and get breakfast ready," said he to his housekeeper-" and, d'ye hear, breakfast wi' us yoursell-ye ken how to manage thae porringers of tea-water-and, hear ye, see abune a' that there's a gude fire.-Weel, Jeanie, my woman, gang in bye-gang in bye, and rest ye."

“ Na, Laird,” Jeanie replied, endeavouring as much as she could to express herself with composure, notwithstanding she still

trembled, "I canna gang in—I have a lang day's darg afore me-I maun be twenty mile o' gate the night yet, if feet will carry

me."

"Guide and deliver us!-twenty miletwenty mile on your feet!" ejaculated Dumbiedikes, whose walks were of a very circumscribed diameter,-" Ye maun never think of that-come in bye."

"I canna do that, Laird,” replied Jeanie; "the twa words I hae to say to ye I can say here; forbye that Mrs Balchristie".

"The de'il flee awa' wi' Mrs Balchristie," said Dumbiedikes," and he'll hae a heavy lading o' her. I tell ye, Jeanie Deans, I am a man of few words, but I am laird at hame, as weel as in the field; de'il a brute or body about my house but I can manage when I like, except Rory Bean, my powney; but I can seldom be at the plague, an' it binna when my bluid's up."

"I was wanting to say to ye, Laird," said Jeanie, who felt the necessity of entering upon her business, "that I was gaun a