e
clachan," said Alison, "cheaper than your honour or Mr Harry can do;" and
then whispered to Henry, "Dinna vex him onymair; I'll pay the lave out o'
the butter siller, and nae mair words about it." Then proceeding aloud,
"And ye maunna speak o' the young gentleman hauding the pleugh; there's
puir distressed whigs enow about the country will be glad to do that for
a bite and a soup--it sets them far better than the like o' him."

"And then we'll hae the dragoons on us," said Milnwood, "for comforting
and entertaining intercommuned rebels; a bonny strait ye wad put us in!--
But take your breakfast, Harry, and then lay by your new green coat, and
put on your Raploch grey; it's a mair mensfu' and thrifty dress, and a
mair seemly sight, than thae dangling slops and ribbands."

Morton left the room, perceiving plainly that he had at present no chance
of gaining his purpose, and, perhaps, not altogether displeased at the
obstacles which seemed to present themselves to his leaving the
neighbourhood of Tillietudlem. The housekeeper followed him into the next
room, patting him on the back, and bidding him "be a gude bairn, and pit
by his braw things."

"And I'll loop doun your hat, and lay by the band and ribband," said the
officious dame; "and ye maun never, at no hand, speak o' leaving the
land, or of selling the gowd chain, for your uncle has an unco pleasure
in looking on you, and in counting the links of the chainzie; and ye ken
auld folk canna last for ever; sae the chain, and the lands, and a' will
be your ain ae day; and ye may marry ony leddy in the country-side ye
like, and keep a braw house at Milnwood, for there's enow o' means; and
is not that worth waiting for, my dow?"

There was something in the latter part of the prognostic which sounded so
agreeably in the ears of Morton, that he shook the old dame cordially by
the hand, and assured her he was much obliged by her good advice, and
would weigh it carefully before he proceeded to act upon his former
resolution.

CHAPTER VII.

From seventeen years till now, almost fourscore,
Here lived I, but now live here no more.
At seventeen years many their fortunes seek,
But at fourscore it is too late a week.
As You Like it.

We must conduct our readers to the Tower of Tillietudlem, to which Lady
Margaret Bellenden had returned, in romantic phrase, mal